19th November 2014 – Darjeeling, India
There is nothing saintly about an old monk, as I would find out today. The body was left dehydrated, and the soul rushed to fly away. I was too weak to even get up or get going, and if not for a fleeting moment in a railway carriage, this whole project would have been at bay.
Ah, the old monk from yesterday, killed me today!
I lost track of how much I was drinking. And also lost track of common sense, which normally has me hydrated by drinking water on the side. And when I woke up today, I had the most stinging headache I ever had. I barely got up to go have some breakfast. A toast later, I was sure I had to throw up, so came back in. After lying down again, woke up in the afternoon.
Went out to get a little drink, and managed to click my only picture of the day, of a lady sitting sombre inside a railway carriage. It somehow blended with my mood for the day too. I found a tea stall, had a sip of herbal tea. Only to run back to my room in a few minutes, throwing up again.
By night, I was scared to even touch any food, because whatever went into my stomach, was going out at almost the same pace. I could almost feel my intestines ready to come out too. Of all the places, I had chosen the cold Darjeeling, to fall sick. It was terrible. Painful, and terrible.
I took a couple of tablets for the headache, and went back to sleep again. Still afraid to eat anything. My plan was to leave to Bhutan, the following day. I doubt it now. I highly doubt it.