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When I Witnessed My Own House's Auction
When I Witnessed My Own House's Auction

When I Witnessed My Own House’s Auction


Sukhdeep Singh

Write Something To Right Something

Passionate about playing with words. Sukhdeep is a Post Graduate in Finance. Besides penning down ideas, he is an expert online marketing consultant and a speaker.


“Dear Husband! Setbacks are the part of life. Drinking is not a solution. It can give you a temporary relief and can make you forget things for a day, but the problem is going to remain there until you solve it.”

How can I not remember the day, when I witnessed auction of my own house. There was no stress at all. I was long prepared for this one day.

It was Sunday, May 23rd. My lawn table was replaced by a conference table and teapot was exchanged with a gavel. A few days back I mowed the whole garden. I really love walking on the grass. Never allowed anyone to enter my lawn with shoes on. But, today people were sitting on chairs in the same lawn and I was watching them all from a distance. My emotions were confusing me. There was no one by my side when I witnessed my own house’s auction.

With auction hammer’s every strike, I experienced the highest level of pain and helplessness. I saw hundreds of people contesting for the ownership rights on my dreams.

To my wonder, they were pricing my dream the cheapest they can. That was the day when I strangulated my possessiveness for my belongings.

Then, came the turn of my wife’s study table. I purposely planted a friend of mine to have that table for me.

Guess what? There was no bidder for that piece of wood and my friend easily managed to have that in the auction.

Why that table only? Why was I so attached to that?

That table was the real reason behind this whole auction. Sounds strange? But, this is true.

Reminds me of the day, when I first had a business loss. I was stressed because of my first ever financial setback. A number of liabilities were ceaselessly increasing.

After spending a whole day in frustration, in the evening, for the first time in life, I poured a drink for me. I shouted at my wife for bringing me some snacks. Right after one week of our marriage, she got to see the real me.

“Dear Husband! Setbacks are the part of life. We must not give up. Drinking is not a solution. It can give you a temporary relief. It can make you forget things for a day, but the problem is going to remain there until you solve it.” My wife was lecturing me.

“Listen up! I don’t need a mommy. I can take care of me and I know what I am doing. This is real me and if you don’t like, you are free to move out.” I screamed.

From that day, it became a routine. For every little stress, I used to drink. My journey of becoming a drunkard that started from the coffee table of my drawing room ended in the back seat of my car after the auction of my car.

I never realized how and when I turned into a beast. From verbal abuse to physical abuse, I crossed all limits. People say it was my drinking habits behind this. My justification was stress. But, the real culprit was me, my inabilities of tackling problems, and my own poor emotional intelligence.

I was so busy proving others wrong that I never looked at me. Instead of making a correction in me, I was flying high in my own seventh sky. For me, this whole world is wrong. To support my ego and to prove my bad decision a good one, I took a number of false decisions.

I was causing serious damage to myself. Unlimited loans, useless business visits, and on top of that, my lust for sex and wine; they all were secretly damaging my foundations.

In between these, my wife got pregnant. She was in her eighth month. Despite her million requests, I was not ready for a small change in me.

It was a fine sunny day. I was drinking since morning. There was no one around me except my wife. The moment I approached the wooden wine bar for another bottle, my wife tried to stop me. She pulled my arm. But, I was drunk and I pushed her away.

After pouring my drink, I looked back. She was lying on the floor and bleeding. Oh my God! What happened to you. I lifted her up and call the ambulance.

After reaching the hospital, I had the worst update. “As your wife got hit on the belly, we lost your child and due to excessive bleeding, we lost your wife too.”

I saw, despite operation mask, the doctor was trying to cover his nose with his hands. I know, I was stinking; it was alcohol.

I was looking at my wife and my dead baby. I cremated my wife and buried my kid. After losing them, I was shattered. These two deaths killed whatever was left in me. I surrendered myself.

In next few years, my income graph was reversed. In front of my eyes, my six figure monthly business income and four figure expenses interchanged their places. I was completely under six-figure debts now.

My friends were no more a friend now and my relatives were all gone. Then, came the day when I was served with a government notice of auction. But, again I was broken and drunk. I was still figuring out the reason behind this misfortune. I still do not have any answer; why I want to keep the study table with me? Can you help??

I was standing close to that study table and my proud possessions were a bottle of whiskey, a photo album, a pair of baby socks knitted by my wife, and my poor emotional intelligence.