What was supposed to be an enjoyable reunion, dining with 2 former colleagues, turned out to be a melancholic affair.
Sad because I learnt from them that 2 Thais I used to work with very closely had passed on without me even knowing.
OP died of a heart attack just 2 weeks ago. He was not a young man, drank and smoked heavily and had a 'spare tyre' you would expect from a guy his age keeping such crazy hours without exercising. So really a heart-attack would ordinarily not be very shocking. But he was truly an inspiration to his men and was there for me, a young foreigner in a strange land, when I had to navigate the bureaucracy. I was told everybody wept buckets at the wake.
The other was M, my driver. Another heavy drinker. But only when he had ensured that I was sent safely back to my hotel every single evening after work or after my late-night meetings. And he was never tardy in the morning, even if I told him to pick me up very early. Always with a toothy grin that showed off his pearly whites which in turn matched his starched safari shirt, M, I was told, bled to death from the intestines after a particularly heavy binge over the Songkran last year. What a way to go :( I still remember that he used to regale me with stories of how he 'worked his way up' from being a
Tuk Tuk driver to what he was today, the driver of a 'big' car for 'important' people. I had no heart to tell him that it was only a Honda and really, I was an insignificant small fry back home.
You know how in tragic movies, the good men are always the first to go. While the bastards live on forever.
Why does Life have to imitate Art sometimes I wonder.