It all started when I was 16. On my way to school I met a grocery dealer that day who used to send the daily use products to our house. I knew him pretty well as we had been dealing with him for years now. He was this thin man, who used to talk in a sleepy tone. He offered me some sweets to eat, told me that he got them from the temple and that they were offerings from God. I couldn’t smell the rat in what he said and thus I ate the sweets. Everything was normal until half an hour of having the sweets after which I vomited and blacked out. I was in school and my mother was called. My dad had expired due to his prolonged illness and cancer. Mom took me home and got a regular check up done. The doctor failed to recognize that I had been intoxicated with drugs. And so did I. I couldn’t make out.
The grocery dealer met me after a week or so and offered the sweets again. I ate them but this time I did not vomit. Instead, I was feeling good. I felt like I was on top of the world and I wanted to take more. I searched for the dealer but couldn’t find him for the next week. One day while going to the tutions I saw him and stopped him. I asked him for the sweets. Only this time he asked for money to give me the sweets. I gave him all the money I had. I took the sweets and skipped tution. I reached home late that evening. My mother thought I wasn’t well and put me to bed. And this is how it started.
Day and night, all I wanted were the sweets. Soon I realized that the sweets were drugs disguised as sweets. But I did not care. All I craved for were the drugs. My mother failed to realize my problems and could not help me properly. Somehow, school passed away, but what happened in college literally changed my life.
I met a new and more professional group of drug addicts who used to stay back in college after the classes and did drugs. I joined them soon. It was smack that they inhaled, and I loved it. It gave me the high I always wanted. It brought me closer to death. It was as if I was greater than God. All that mattered for me were the drugs. I took them day in and day out. My mother guessed by that time that I was in the wrong company.
I was caught with drugs in college and was expelled. My mother was shattered. She asked me how I got addicted to it but I did not answer. She told me to leave the company of drug addicts. This is the point in my life I regret the most. I literally slapped my mother. She did not say a word and silently went to her room. But I did not care at all.
All I wanted was more and more money to buy the drugs. I did whatever I could to get the money. I stole my mother’s jewelery, I stole money from her purse, I borrowed from friends and money lenders, and what not. There was a time when my mom voluntarily offered money for the drugs. The reason being that she did not want me to die on the road or be jailed. She wanted me to die in her arms. There was a time when she wished I died as she could not see me spoiling my life. But mom couldn’t have done anything. She did not tell anyone fearing the social stigma and being a thin and old lady with arthritis she was not the one who could forcefully hold me back and silently watched my draconian addiction take over my life.
My ability to think had ended. I was unable to differentiate between different colors. I could not taste food. I had lost all my friends and my new friends were my drugs and the fellow addicts and peddlers. Then came another time which I regret a lot. I had gone to one of the rave parties where we used to take drugs, have sex, sleep and do drugs again, and yes, dance all night. I got this call from my neighbours. They had called to inform me that my mother had been diagnosed from a heart attack but I did not care at all. After two days of continuous intoxication, I went to my mother. Not to check how she was, but to borrow money for some more drugs.
That was the time when my neighbours came to know about my addiction, and so did the ones who knew me and my family for ages. All distanced themselves from us. My mother was in a bad condition and was sent to an old age house. But again, I did not care. Not that I was too old by then. I was only 23 then but had no job. The shifting of my mother from our house to the old age home was frustrating for me as now I couldn’t steal the money from her. My mother had given up all hopes from me and had requested the authorities of the old age home to cremate me with full respect if I died after her death.
Then came the day which changed me forever. It was 2 in the morning and I was roaming around on the roads of Connaught Place, Delhi, with my drug addict girlfriend. We had no money and were looking for someone who could lend us some. We couldn’t find anyone so we stopped a car and looted the driver. He was a taxi driver. We managed to collect around 4000 bucks and bought drugs. We took the drugs and went high again. I was loving it but then…
It was the day that made me wake up to life. I had always been close to death, but that day… It brought me so close to death that I begged for life. I was experiencing a kind of a pre-death scenario. I was sure that I would not survive. That was the moment I actually missed my mother. That was the moment I actually regret everything I had done. And trust me, it all happened in a matter of seconds. And then, a blackout. I don’t know why but God gave me another chance.
The next day I found myself in a local Government hospital. I was being diagnosed for the overdose that had happened last night. The doctor came in to see me and said “You were almost dead.” As much as I thanked God for saving me, my addiction had not ended. I did not take drugs anymore. I was sent to a rehab in Delhi and was then transferred to its Mumbai branch. I am alive now. It has been 4 years since I took my last dose of drugs, but the after effects are still there. I still have sleepless nights. I still have severe headaches and am suffering from a blood disease. All because of the drugs.
But there are a few things I learnt. I now work with the same rehab in Delhi. I am living with my mother and am happy to be with her in her last days. She is suffering from Lung cancer. During the course of my life I ruined all relationships, broke a hundred hearts, did all I could do to buy the drugs, I ruined my life. And am still suffering. My mother wants me to get married before she visits God. But who would marry an ex-drug addict, who is 29 year old but looks like a 40 year old man. Courtesy, drugs.
I did it for years, I could have lived a happy life, only if I did not take that first step. Being an ex-drug addict I advice you to please stay away from that first dose of cigarette, that first glass of alcohol, that first gush of drug.
Life has a lot to teach. But why learn the hard way? Live your life without the smoke. Live your life without the drugs.
If you are an addict or know someone who is an addict please call +91-9811498181 or +91-9810031931
Reach out to your loved ones before drugs destroy them, like they destroyed me and millions like me.
Find this guest post also at Youth Ki Awaaz’s campaign against Drug Abuse Us Against Drug Abuse. Visit http://www.drugabuse.youthkiawaaz.com now!
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