Sometimes i just
really like listening to frothy water cascading out of a bucket. Sheer force of the tap et al, wasteful yet perfect. Let me enjoy the tiny 4 second high. Please?
Speaking of more conventional highs, It was one of those birthdays yesterday. Those.
The ones you look back on and wonder how-in-the-world you
a) managed to make it to it
b) managed to stay for SO long
c) didn't collapse after the first six hours
d) didn't get grossed out by your own kaam-chalao attitude (wait, all shall be explained)
So dram-kid-junior has birthday on 23rd. Surprise Party has been organized.
Yours truly has ONE job.
Turn up on time for the 'surrrrprise' cheer.
Yours truly turns up late. Uh. Cough. Cough.
Skating past that and offering 5-mins-to-pick-due-to-aforementioned-delay gift.
Yours truly is escorted STRAIGHT to the bar.
(what do you think i am, a drunkard? i-duly-accepted-whisky-coke. Oookay.)
Many hugs and remonstrations later, cushy seats, good music and some light food.
It was 5.30
I trace my dal into patterns with a mini naan and listen to soon-moving-to-Japan friend
(yes i Have one of those)
Birthday Girls Boy (and organizer of the posh yet comfy set-up) dangles the idea of 'shots' in front of Japan friend and i.
For the sake of convenience, we shall call her Manasi *beams*
Lazy M and i are reluctant to move but too late, we get convinced to move our behinds to another section.
Boy is in panic mode because bar is about to close and we are clearly nowhere near a high enough drunk state. This needs to be taken care of immediately.
Voila.
Vodka.
Too late, too late. Vodka and i don't see eye to eye.
It wants me to feel dizzy.
I fold my hands and frown on such ... lost my train of thought.
See my point? Exactly.
But then i've never taken a 'shot' before and the whole salt+lime routine seems fun.
i take it with the rest of the crew. Yes, i said crew.
Its watery. In fact i suspect it Is water. Where is the high? i wonder blankly.
Enough with 5.45.
Boy soon lures us to the dance floor (we were mere puppets in his hand)
promises this is the 'last' number.
Some friend somewhere giggles hysterically and prances around in stolen heels.
the 'last' number lasts at least an hour.
Fun, plenty.
Of course by now i've discovered where the elusive high went.
Right to my tummy.
Sigh, ACHE.
7 pm and on the phone with Mom.
College is off till the 29th, she thinks it wouldn't be terrible if i stay over at friends'.
Friend has been insisting.
I know it'll come down to the emotional stuff.
Okay i sigh but i need clothes.
Night Clothes.
Pj's, loose shirt and BED i specify firmly.
She agrees, quickly.
I-should-have-seen-it-coming.
One not-so-quick but musical ride back to her place with Journo M and Boy.
Birthday girl is still in shock that boy managed to make her day so beautiful.
Aww? More on that later.
We plonk ourselves on the promised bed and in the mere 27 mins i am in the bathroom (on the phone. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. not really though :)... ) a plan is made to go out from 11-1.
Okay i can live with that.
I'll wear the same clothes.
Really? Yes.
But then i thought we were All doing that.
Not so much.
A plan is made.
Only if birthday girls mom reads this blog, she will be very angry.
AND have her suspicions confirmed.
Sigh. Children...
Oh birthday girl has just recovered from a brief stint in the hospital.
Hence over protectiveness.
We eat a cheese pizza with the family. Her family. (M's and mine doesn't materialize out of nowhere)
I feel sufficiently motivated to go take a bath AND wash my hair.
It may be noted. I don't have any extra clothes. NONE AT ALL.
I am travelling with my wallet and a cell phone. That is it.
No scope for hidden glosses or sudden whiffs of perfume.
Not even a basic black shirt tucked into one corner.
Whatever.
I borrow shampoo, conditioner, wild berry shower gel (yay!), toothpaste and a towel.
I am an easy house guest.
Give or take 40 mins.
I am scrubbed and dripping.
have you ever tried wearing the SAME clothes after a refreshing shower?
Don't do it.
Don't you ever do it.
The clothes are tighter, warmer and hideously claustrophobic.
Yes the same clothes are the Kiss of Death to fun. Or freshness.
M and birthday girl wear pajamas to give it a realistic we-are-going-over-to-a-friends-for-the-night-look.
Waitaminute, who?
Another story.
We walk on over to E's house.
They transform into swans.
I lie on the bed and ache for sleep.
All glossy with 'puffs' created with tiny pins on their heads, they pose for pictures.
I put my own 'puff' in serious jeopardy while lolling about on bed talking on the phone.
I need to not be a spoil sport.
I insist someone capture my repeated attire glory on camera.
M changes back into her afternoon dress.
I feel better.
I make her re-do my 'puff'.
Boy insists it won't suit me.
Puff and piffle to him.
We leave E's place with her older female cousin at 11.45.
Ladies night will be over somewhere in the world we realize.
Lets head to a place thats further away we decide intelligently.
5 girls flow into Sk's (birthday girl) Boys car.
Boy has changed. CLOTHES.
We reach C (club) and flow right out.
E's cousin is from New York i learn.
Ah, there is nothing more i can add to the conversation.
(yet, i later discover)
We meet some easily forgettable people.
E's friends we presume until she is introduced to them by a chap.
Okay. One large group of Sk's friends, Sk's friends friends and Sk's friends friends friends.
I-Am-Not-Making-This-Up.
At least there is no entry fee.
Someone 'knows' someone.
It was inevitable, we practically have the entire world as a part of our 'group'.
We go in and the music is 'techno'.
The easy (probably incorrect) term for anything relying on unfamiliar beats and incoherent words. Wait, thats almost all kind of 'pop' music. Oh right. 'Pop' is familiar :)
We can't possibly dance.
Our bodies no longer move to beats.
We need to unconsciously imitate the moves in the video as a form of self-expression through dance.
Uh-oh. Unintended Insight.
The 'fun' is lost on me.
I'm tired and sleepy and frankly not up to dancing in a crowded place.
This isn't what i signed up for i think.
Im sure more people felt it, they just didn't want to admit it to themselves.
(because that would make their parents right... What is the point Beta?
But i like knowing my parents can make smarter decisions.
Who else is going to figure out my life plan?)
I send boy one last text promising to 'dance anyway'
E's cousin R seems to be in a similar boat.
Forced smile ie.
I sit out a song or two and she leans against the wall to my right.
Soon we're off to the bar to 'explore' in my words. 'drink' in hers.
She buys us bacardi shots.
Revolting Stuff. (i buy us two more after 45 mins)
She insists its chicken feed when converted into dollars.
Unfortunately i can't live with that :(
Something in me rebels at the thought of being a freeloader.
Even in a tiny unintended way.
I need to pay her back.
Odd.
So we talk and she tells me that she's heading xyz (she being older by at least 5 years)
and how indian bartenders love american accents.
I guess i automatically put on an interested expression while my mind shrieked 'neo-colonized discriminating bartenders'.
Sk and M noticed i had gone missing and came hunting for me.
If R had been a boy and we'd had the Exact same conversation, people would think we were flirting. The prejudice of the world is cruel.
Where is the scope for spontaneous conversations in todays society? i ask you.
Excited over my first bacardi shot ever and my second shot today, i dance wildly for a bit.
R walks out after 20 mins and i keep up the wild dancing.
(to give you a time frame of wild dancing)
I find a table outside in the less-loud portion of the world.
Apparently i remind R of herself hence she must buy me another shot.
When she was younger, she craved random shots purchased?
But i get my 500 buck note to the bartender first and get my dignity back.
Only a flicker of sadness accompanies the departure of the yellow-green note.
But with renewed enthusiasm i down my shot.
and offer another to M (at my side)
R gets a freebie from a friendly bartender. Interesting.
It works then? Should i cultivate an accent as an experiment? Or, just tag along with her? :)
Another shot works its magic.
I feel absolutely sleepy and nothing will change my mind.
I slump into a sofa chair and close my eyes.
Panic. E thinks ive fainted.
I gently calm her down.
All is well.
Just a long day and 2.10 in the morning don't agree with me.
2.3o we leave (i have a 5 min bout of dancing in the middle, nowhere near enough to burn off 1/5ths of the calories inhaled)
There is macaroni at home and people leave E's bed at 3.
3.10 and one chocolate biscuit later, M and i go upstairs to sleep.
The Birthday Party is over.
Hello. About bloody time right?
Ps- If any of you made it to the End of the post. Congratulations.
And just so you know, this is the Edited version :D
*beams*
