Travel Blog - Journey, Stories and Experiences

I and my sister decided to visit Bhutan on the 24th of March for its international festival and trekking.  Bhutan hosts this beautiful international festival called Paro International Festival and I wanted to witness it. We had made all the reservations for flights and train but left the reservations of Hotels for on the spot booking. On the 24th morning, I arrived at the Delhi's Indira Gandhi International Airport and met my sister, all set to see the spectacular view of the festival that was being organised which looked just like this.     I expected to see people dancing on the roads, wearing traditional dresses and huge dragons on the way. But soon, my sister spoke the words that shattered all the above imaginations. She said, " I won't be able to go, I have some really urgent work in the company, I am really really very sorry". I was like what the hell? Why didn't you tell me before? She said the flights were non-refundable and still I thought we could...

Before I go on to tell you about the other days that I spent and went through, I feel the need to tell you about the patients in my ward. I dedicate this chapter to four patients in my ward, who have left a significant impact on my memory. I never talked to any of those patients because I was not able to speak, but they all had different lives and different situations which forces me to write about them. You will know after reading, why among all these four are the only patients I would like to mention.     The first patient I recall was a woman. She was a healthy woman, wore a nice suit with flowers imprinted on it. She was healthy and was just brought to the ward. As I stated it was an IMC ward which had only critical patients under watch everytime. Even in the night. It was around 3 pm and I was talking to my sister. My sister was reading something from her phone. That lady had her husband with her who was sitting on the stool right beside her. Her husband wore a grey po...

I woke up by the noise of doctors' arrival in the ward. It was a routine check up that happened every morning at 10. They used to check the patients and decide the change in medicines, write reports and speak about the health. I was too weak. I couldn't sit without reclining the bed. My double vision was same as it was two days earlier. I could see everything if my head was kept straight like an owl and my pupils did not move. To see anything I had to move my head and still I would see everything double. I was most concerned about my eyes. I could recall the episodes of, " Monsters inside me" where the narrator would speak again and again that we cannot reverse the damage to the eyes. The doctor arrived at my bed. He checked if there are any improvements. He asked me to lift my hand, which obviously I couldn't. He asked me to fold my hand and then lift it, which obviously I couldn't. He took his pen and kept it in front of me, still holding, and moved his han...