I was rolling on my bed helplessly. My friend had long gone leaving behind a dreaded hangover as usual. It could have been around 3 O’clock. On my right was my wife in her deep slumber although our first baby in her womb rendered bit of discomfort that made her moan sometimes.
How I reached my bed that night? I still don’t remember. Last I remember was holding a glass of Special Courier and chatting with Ata Tashi and other regular mates. I remember, it was in Shangrila Restaurant whose underground dungeon like bar offered a best place for my friends and I to hang out, with latest Bhutanese movie songs at full blast.