I sleep till the late hours of the morning on weekends. This Saturday I got up a little early and turned on the television to find BBS rebroadcasting PM’s address to the Parliament. I suck at politics so I do not cling on to much of their speeches but this talk kept me glued to the screen. He was stressing on a disease that was catching up fast with the Bhutanese people.
It is indeed worrisome to note that people are anchoring themselves in the harbour of card games and trying to make a career out of it. I cannot help nodding to the words of the PM as he says that stringent measures and actions will be taken to curb this disease. Such issues, if at all should reach the Parliament, perhaps indicate we have a lot to worry about. I wouldn’t put my money in it, but yes sometimes card games could be the only trick left to bring together friends who are, by view of marriage and other sanctimonious relations to their own accord, alienated from each other.
Just then my cell phone tells me I have received a message. It’s a friend asking me to join for a game of marriage. I try to smile but there’s something else written on my face. The face of a man who is burdened by guilt provoked by the honorable PM lampooning card gamers or, to his eyes, gamblers. In sharp contrast to my earlier views, I seem to be looking forward to our gatherings. What the heck. I hardly meet my friends otherwise. It’s not utter gambling for there are no high stakes involved. Moreover, it’s strictly a socializing bout for a few hours. However, things start from the first step. Drops make up oceans.
Anyway, I got to my friend’s lair and there they were. I would be the sixth man. Four of them are married. One has a girlfriend. I am as single as the first digit of the set of natural numbers. The PM’s words rang loud and clear to me. You could tell I wasn’t enjoying as much this game of marriage as I used to before.