MESSED MIND AND MISSING

Human brain (or the mind) has unparalled capabilities if trained and used well but it is dangerously tricky and deceptive if left unchecked and untamed. 

As powerful and as deceptive our brain is, it is equally fragile. It needs utmost care and maintenance. Excessive drinking can cause severe defect to our brain and even cause death.

This story is a personal account of my paternal uncle. Drinking is a huge problem in our village and all single men have had their share of such experiences. This is his near-death experience after years of drinking and the eventual withdrawal symptoms.

This is what he has to say:

It was back in 2018, I along with my brothers and friends went to pick cordyceps some 7000 meters above sea level at the base of Gangkarpuensum. There were around 30 of us, divided in groups of 7 to 10 people.

This wasn't my first rodeo, by this time, I was a well experienced cordyceps picker. However, I have been drinking quite heavily for the past couple of years and seems to have taken a toll on me.

We go and stay up in the mountains for about a month. We take rations that includes whiskeys and cigarettes. I wasn't feeling too well from the get-go, so I gave away every bottle of whiskeys and every piece of cigarettes. I thought I will get better if I don't drink and smoke. After two days, I started to feel weak and queasy. I kept it to myself, because everyone risked their life and walked hundreds mile to reach there.

Anyway, on the second day, I stayed in the tent as I wasn't feeling well and was thinking about returning home. As I slept in the tent staring at the door curtain, I heard someone calling me " Naku...Naku... Naku..." Naku is a nickname my close friends called me. I snatched it couple of times and swung it but seems that the curtain had nothing to do with the calling.

Towards the evening, everyone returned to the camp from their daily cordyceps collection trips. I went along with my friends to collect firewood in the nearby forest by the riverside. As we were collecting firewoods, I heard someone singing " Zhomo Aalay..." a traditional Bhutanese song, from the other side of the river. I ignored the song and just kept it to myself.

That night, I started hearing my friends calling me. I heard loud noise of bike. A friend of mine kept calling me. Everytime I closed my eyes, chilling shock would leave me writhing in pain. Every now and then, my friend kept telling me different things to do. 

By this time, my brothers and friend noticed that something was wrong with me.  I told them that, my friend must have passed away as I am hearing his voice. My friends reminded me to be strong. But it just got worse with every passing moment. Soon, I was reacting to the voices I heard and images I am seeing. Out of fear, the women were tasked to hold me while, some 10 men, lined up to chant Dolma (Tara). Few other men kept a huge fire going to keep me warm and visible. 

The whole night, I shouted, I sang, I laughed, and I cried. I did just as the voice in my head asked me to do. We stayed up all night with nothing to eat or drink. By 5 AM, I felt like I am a dead guy, so I cried that if I were to die, I want to be cremated near my house and not be left holed up in some caves way up in the mountains. So, I tried to stand up with hope of going home. With no choice left, 12 men, including my 2 younger brothers, started our descend from the base camp of Gangkarpuensum. 

I was barely myself, I can remember everything clearly, but I have no will of my own whatsoever. I am but a walking puppet to the voices I am hearing. So, they held me from all angles, it took 12 strong men to hold me in place.

As I reached steep cliff edges, the voices guided me to be careful. He would guide me to walk up or down depending on the road. When we reached a bridge (a few timbers tied together). I felt a strong stinging pain everything I lost my balance. I would feel the pain in left if I leaned too much on left. I would feel the pain in right if I leaned too much on the right. 

Everyone was tired but not me. I cannot rest. The voice in my head won't let me rest. I would feel pain every time I sat down to rest. On the contrary, I would jump up and down; dance and holler, just as the voice instruct me to do.

By evening, we reached a riverside, just a few miles away from the motorable road. As we neared the river, the voice began to threaten me. He said " Should I kill you here? Go and jump in the river.". Saying this, I felt something strangling me and I started to gasp for air. It took the force of 12 men to keep me from jumping into the river. After about a minute of strangling and constricting, I passed out. I came back to senses, to the cries of my two younger brothers. 

More alert than ever, they surrounded me and guarded me towards the road. When we reached a small clearing, the voice said "Should I get that bald friend of yours?" 

I told my friends "The voice said he wants the bald dude."

They scolded me to be more mindful and not let the mind astray. 

One of them jokingly said "Ask him to get the bald dude. Let's see what he can do." 

I told the voice " My friend said you can get him."

Just as I said these, my bald friend, named Chaylu, began to wobble and he started to jump into the thorns and muds. He would avoid all the good path and jump into muds. He would free himself from his friends and jump into spikes and thorns. He began to laugh and cry like me.

Now, out of the 12 men, 6 had to take care of him and 6 had to take care of me. For a normal individual, it would take a week to tread the path we were walking. For daily goers, it would take about two days with luggages and a whole day without luggages. However, we walked the whole path in over 5 hours.

By the time we reached the motorable road, my friends were exhausted and hungry. I was ecstatic and brimming with energy. My bald friend was acting up too. When we reached there, a taxi was waiting for us and we were taken home. 

It took me another week of constant vigilance and rituals to heal from this "madness", which I believe is caused by the drinking. They call it withdrawal symptoms. But I believe something more is at play here. There are two voices, one says nothing good. It tells you jump in the river, go and kill yourself and everything it says is to kill and harm you.  However, the other voice guides you, like the one that guided me on the bridge and cliffs. But for a drunkard like us, it is hard for us to listen to the good voice, and we land up listening to the bad voice, until eventually, we hear nothing good and that's when we die. And this is how an untamed mind can play tricks on you.

P.S. My uncle is one of the 11 men who underwent the same experience but lived to tell the tale. Over the past 10 years, 6 men have lost their lives after undergoing a similar experience. They all went crazy and every one of them died jumping into the river. Two of the deceased were saved two times but eventually gave in to the voices in their head.