Under the white moon

a writing by Dilliram chhetri

As usual dawa sat under the comforting hillock of an old willow tree. The tears cascaded from the weakened eyes through the pale cheeks. It was the quit late twilight and the waxing moon slowly came up to its reign, he felt soothing comfort under the embrace of the mighty glowing friend and slowly and with much of care he picked up a stone and with his left hand just as he have learnt from his beloved mom he threw the stone to nearby pond and the ripple continued………..
It was first day of his college and with destiny in his hand he had gone to Eastern Bhutan for Engineering course. The life took other way and he fell under the treacherous claws of the destiny. Just like many middle class family of his school he too was from that back ground for which the history of Bhutanese is reveled. Never in his life he faced any lows as he was completely brought up with utmost care and love by his most trusted uncle. With influence from his friends he was dragged by the company of drugs ad became addicted to it and the time also came that he could not live without the intoxication of drugs.
One day a friend of his took his school bag and he fortunately returned it back as several time he had never returned. But soon he was called to the office and the Principal started to check his bag. ALASH! he found several packets of N10 in his bag. It was not his but in what ever way he tried to convince the principal he did not listened and he became frustrated and gave a blow! TO PRINCIPLE. Next day police came and took him you the prison..
But today he regrets those days which he spent with drugs and tells. ”Drugs gave me wings to fly but it took away my wings to fly.”

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