It was a Saturday night, the usual activities where lined up with the guys, plenty of alcohol, cigarettes and other things to smoke, which are for some reason frowned upon and an SUV to roam about the locality while we “performed” the aforementioned “activities”.
I joined the guys later on though, why?
I attended a gig, played by the upcoming bands in Mumbai, in the alternative rock scene. With a friend.
She’s probably the cutest little thing, doe-eyed, dusky, normal Indian-woman height, and black (REALLY) curly hair.
I’ve known her pretty long, about 3-4 years now, she was infact the reason behind, not one, but MANY mini-breakups with my, well, I honestly don’t know if we are still together are not. That’s a whole other story.
Do I like this friend? Maybe I did at some point in the past. But I guess we both are way past that stage where such things fuck-up good friendships and as she puts it “we’re awesome together”. She’s committed to a doctor guy, based in Pune. Yay.
I never understood why women feel the need to be equal to men in some things. The case I’m going to talk about today is Drinking, Alcohol. I mean, drink how much ever you can handle, im a 5’11in and 110kg monster, MOST human beings can’t drink much as I can.
One quarter of the girly vodka bullcrap, “green-apple with 7-up”, and a miniature port-wine. That was at around 11ish in the night.
Its 2am now, she’s still passed out on my bed, in my room, with my parents at home, and I can safely say I can feel my balls in the back of my throat.
That’s not the point of this piece I write though.
For many years to come, this story will be the story to get high and laugh on between me and the guys in the SUV, which we lovingly call our “mobile-bar”. The entry is based on “invitations only”.
It houses everything, from ‘chakna’ to a variety of alcoholic beverages, with amenities for all types of glasses. Again, I can now say, you will never leave our mobile-bar sober, and hungry.
That’s not the point of this either.
That mobile-bar, for me, is a second home, and “the guys” are way beyond what you may call “friends”. They are family. A family much closer to me than my literal one.
Let me give a little insight, about the guys.
One of them is a North-Indian-Brahamin-Delhi-ite, he’s got his own flourishing business, and he owns our “mobile-bar”. As sane as human beings can get, as humble as they come, a frank talker, and you will not stop laughing at the jokes he cracks.
The other one’s a mutt, part Punjabi, part Kerala-ite, How that happened, I still fail to understand, an engineering student like me. He’s, well him. I seriously doubt if there are more people like him. Again, as sane as they come, an extremely decent guy, he still thanks me for “getting him his first pair of tits”, and in his case, you will not stop laughing AT him. Also, he claims to be dyslexic, but I guess all of us know the real fact, “woh humlogka chutiya banata hain”.
Another one, Is a tall, lanky South-Indian-Brahamin fellow, who in no way is “shudhh” as per the Brahamin culture. He’s an executive at a very well-known five-star hotel. Like the rest of us, he’s “chilled out”, frank genuine, and smokes like a fucking chimney.
What connects us?
The fact, that our bunch, is one with possibly the most genuine people ever moulded. We are simple, we think less, we drink a lot, we smoke a lot. The actual “bond” between us, we haven’t been able to explain yet, and possibly won’t be able to ever. The fact remains, if and when the one of us needs the other two, may it be day or night, or in a different city or a country, the other two WILL be there or do everything in his power to help the one in need.
No, its not part of some deal we made. That’s just how we are.
The drunken slobs influence me in many ways that make me better.
Among the many sticky situations we’ve found ourselves in, they were with me, today too, when the friend I was with passed out, and did not leave me alone with her, even when the woman ended up puking in our “pyaari dhanno”. They were with me to the point of carrying her home, and placing her on my bed and telling me “kuch chahiye toh phone kariyo”.
As they say, friendships happen, and incidentally we all are the kind of people who don’t look for friendships, we like our alone-time. Also incidentally, none of us can point out, as to HOW and WHEN we began drinking together.
So yeah, tonight, was a night when something I knew all along, probably slapped me on my face.
The fact of “friendship”, a human emotion that always perplexed me, Is something that cannot be explained. “Love” for that matter, can be, related to the human need to “mate”.
Taking into account my condition now, I’ve been a popular guy all along, almost everybody knows “bala”, I probably have over 300 friends on Facebook, but I don’t need them, like I need these guys.
Pretty much like how “David” on FRIENDS says towards the end, “after years of trying to explain something, I’ve found that it cannot be done.”
The point of this piece, if you’ve managed to read the whole thing is that I myself do not know the point of this piece.
I just realised that I’ve been typing my thoughts as I sit on the floor in my room with my dog curled up on her bed beside me, with my friend passed out on my bed.
It’s 4am now, everything stands the way it was a couple of hours before,
Luckily, tomorrow is the “rest day” is my weekly gym regime.
Sleeping tonight doesn’t seem possible. After all, I’ve to drop this girl back home BEFORE my parents wake up and have me for breakfast.
What a Night, what a fucking, night, sheesh..
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