The long way home..

Lost it somewhere on the way,

Left with nothing else to say,

Waiting for the light to come,

To end this night lonesome..

The tunnel's end seems too far,

Like a distant guiding star,

Living in the same old fear,

That the end is always near..

The adrenaline stops to flow,

Then the heart feels so low,

Reaching out to nothing again,

And then fighting to stay sane..

I need to go and find it back,

Don't know how I lost my track,

The old magic has to return,

To help me get what I yearn..

Lost in the jungle of life,

Amidst the pain and the strife,

Think it's time to end the roam,

And get on the long way back home..

The Extremes..

A revelation is what I came across last week,

When as usual, the mighty one had met the meek,

There seemed to be a reversal of roles,

Or rather I'd say an exchange of souls..

We always knew we were poles apart,

If one was the brain, the other was the heart,

But little did we know of destiny's ruse,

We now walk in each other's shoes..

Being as different as chalk and cheese,

While one was fire, the other a cold breeze,

But now we know which part we play,

One is a dark night and the other a sunny day..

The chessboard has indeed been given a fright,

It turned out to be black, which it thought to be white,

The world was mistaken, it never understood,

Due to the thin line between the evil and the good..

But their kinship now is stronger than before,

This legendary irony has still a lot in store,

At liquor's abode for years to come,

You'll still find God and the Devil with a bottle of rum..

A brand new road,

for that damn 'Bro Code'..

It is the big changes in life that one never actually sees coming. This is the story of one such change. I took an off last Saturday, the 25th of September, and went to ADMIS to meet two of my very close friends. Gurshran and Vasu. It sure felt nice to be around Vasu, the president and founder of the FOSLA group. A bastion of single, desperate and chauvinistic guys. By the way, I happen to be a proud member of the same. Gurshran has been a dear friend, so it was a pleasure meeting her as well. I spent the first half of the day with them, going over the past, the present and the future. And of course, my incredibly boring jokes were there to keep company as always. It felt great to be back in ADMIS, even if it was for just a couple of hours. But it sure felt like coming back home after a long time. And by the way, if any of my fellow ADMISEANS are reading this post right now, this is for them. For 2 years, we made fun of the fact that the front wall of our college building says "ADMIS ROX". Even though we made fun of it, even though the person who wrote it could not spell the word "rocks"correctly, the truth remains that thanks to all of you, ADMIS actually did "Rock". So for that, I say thank you.

After having a great lunch with my friends, I headed to Vile Parle (East) to 'Answer the call, of the al-co-hol'. I met Sid and started our daily Saturday routine of getting wasted. We were later joined by Gadre, who in a very weird way, is co-responsible for this particular blog post. It must have been around 7:00 when the discussion was spear-headed by the devil himself. My brother. It started with how silly smoking actually is. Then it went on to establish how dangerous it is. Then it somehow went on to speculate that it might also be the cause of my untimely death. It was no wonder that my brother's mind had excogitated this devious plot. It didn't strike me then because of the rum though. Anyway, then the conversation proceeded with me agreeing to quit smoking over a span of 6 months. Seemed like a fair deal to me. Little did I know that Sid was thinking, "Not so fast, junior". This tirade was interrupted when a dear friend of mine from ADMIS, Suri, called me up. Incidentally, she was also in Vile Parle at that moment. I told her to meet me outside the infamous bar at which we were busy getting sloshed. She got there in no time. I chatted with her for around 10 minutes while Sid and Gadre sat in the bar discussing football. At least that's what they say. I bid adieu to Suri and returned to my table. After a couple of minutes, the anti-smoking duo was back in business, serious than ever.

This time around, the stakes were even higher. Sid proposed that I should quit that very evening. And so would he. Now they say better is the devil you know than the one you don't. Well, Devil No. 2, Gadre, suggested that we add this as a new article in "The Bro Code". It stated that "One bro shall never ever indulge in an act of smoking, unless passive, if another Bro binds the former by this rule". "The Bro Code" says nothing about murder. So I guess I can kill Gadre for doing this to me later. So, apparently, we both were supposed to smoke our respective "last cigarettes ever". That was something that I was not supposed to fall for hook, line and sinker. But, sadly enough, I did. The clock struck 9:30 when we took our last drags. I even had to give back the shopkeeper the lighter which I had bought from him a couple of hours back. Ten bucks gone waste.

It's been a week now. The urge to smoke has lessened, but it is there nonetheless. But there was something in there for me in abiding to the code as well. Sid has promised that he will start taking the code very seriously. And also that he will never lie to me ever again, as that was the article I added to the code myself. I know what you guys will say. Sid is such a good guy. I know that. But I didn't know that he was so good at being so good. Damn it. And Gadre. The only man whose memory works better when he is drunk which made him remember "The Bro Code" idea. Damn it, again. But he's a good friend, too. Although he is not able to see ice when he's drunk. May be I won't kill him. At least not before I get a treat from him for his new job which is still pending.

So...in a very weird way, I guess I should thank these two drunken morons for making me sober in life. The smoke may be gone, but the rum...will always be there. This song never seems to grow old. We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs...drink up me 'earties yo-ho...!

The night that never ended..

September 5th, 2010. It was a Sunday. A day to remember. Not for the best of reasons though. A day before, I met Sid and we had a great time over a good old bottle of rum. All seemed well. We even talked about Prachi, as we always do. Correction. I talked about Prachi, as I always do. The discussion was the same, as it always is. After cribbing about my one-sided love dilemma and tormenting my brother, who seemed as nonchalant as always, we tried to reach a conclusion. As we always do. But we couldn't. As we never do. However, the conversation helped me decide that I needed to do something about the situation. Well, to tell the truth, there was no situation. So I guess the plan was to create one. The idea was to get back in touch with her, one way or the other. For instance, by standing outside her office and giving her a surprise. Though I'm not sure if "surprise" is the right word here.

Then arrived that fateful Sunday morning. The sun came up from the east, the dogs on the street were doing there business, the birds were chirping away for reasons best known to them, my mom was cribbing about her past, my granny was taunting her incessantly and I was busy ignoring both of them. All in all, a regular Sunday morning. Little did I know that the evening had other plans for me.

My granny had to go pay a visit to her ailing sister at Kandivli. She took off by the time the clock struck 3:00. A little bottle of rum was lying in my bag for a good couple of weeks. It was not safe to keep it in the house any longer as my gran was not aware of it. So I decided to drink it in the presence of my mom, which by the way is something that I have done earlier, too. So I ordered a Sprite and a few cancer sticks from the store downstairs. I began drinking around 5:00. By the time I finished my last peg and was on to my last cigarette of the day, it was around 7:30. And the doorbell rang. And I was still far away from my last drag. My mom panicked, which made me panic. I ran to the kitchen and stubbed it out at a speed Stanley Ipkiss would have after putting on The Mask. However, as it turned out, it wasn't my granny, but the guy who sells bread and eggs in the building and has made a habit of ringing our doorbell every single evening. Now, to understand what happened next, you need to know two things. One, that I was drunk. And two, that I'm a fool. A drunken fool, so to speak. The fact that my hard earned cigarette went to waste, did not sit too well with me. And I set out of my house to smoke another one and bring justice to that little cancer stick that died way too young. I headed to the store, bought two more sticks and began puffing away. Now, with the discussion of the previous night and the alcohol guiding me, I reached out for my cell and dialed a number. No prizes for guessing as to whose number it was. Prachi's, of course. The number was busy. So I dialed again. And again. And again. And again. And before I knew it, I had dialed that number 47 times in a span of 17 minutes. I was relentless.

It must've been around 5 seconds post the 47th unsuccessful attempt to talk to my ladylove, when my phone rang. The number seemed strangely familiar. Now to understand why it seemed familiar, you need to know that the last 5 digits of Prachi's cell state her birth date. The number flashing on my cell's screen had the same 5 last digits. A danger alarm started going off in my head. But I still answered the call anyway. The voice at the other end was male. The next 75 seconds were, in the simplest of words, abysmal. The man, who introduced himself as an inspector, went on to threaten me that if I did not stop making these calls, he would beat me up within an inch of my dear life. I can't describe what the man said verbatim, as the language was quite unparliamentary and translating the same into English would not be easy even though it's my profession. Now, mates, you may think that since I was drunk, some dutch courage may have done the trick. Poor guess. I was petrified. For a second I may have forgotten what a bottle of rum looks like. Because even though I was sober enough to understand that it was not a cop but some friend of hers who was just doing his job, he still could've been perfectly capable of kicking my butt. So a little scared and a little sad, I apologized. And then I slowly hung up the phone. I wasn't done yet, if that's what you were expecting. I picked up my cell yet again, and sent an SMS to that gentleman saying thanks for the favor he just did me. And that I won't do this again. I even addressed that clown as "Sir" in the message. To my astonishment, he called up again. This time to tell me that I am a smart-ass who doesn't give up despite being told otherwise. He said that my hands run a lot on the cell's keypad. Amidst the confusion, I told him that I had texted him and not the girl. He went on to tell me that it was "Bade saab's" number. And that he was here at the police station with his daughter and that I had no idea what a serious crime I had committed. He even mentioned that they might slam a mental harassment charge against me. For some stupid reason, he kept asking me my address so that he could pick me up and make me disappear from the face of this planet so fast, that my parents would think that I vanished in thin air. I apologized again. And after another 11 seconds of verbal abuse, I hung up. And that was it.

Well, let's check out the facts now. If she was on the phone for 17 minutes straight, when did she reach the police station? Why would the cop call me from someone else's cell? Haven't they paid the phone bill down there? And why was that twit asking for my address? I thought the cops had a way of finding out such things on their own. But that's besides the point. It was crystal clear that she didn't wish to hear my voice again. I can't argue with that.

After the phone call, I went to the store and bought another cancer stick or two, while narrating the whole incident to the shop owner, Mr. R.P. Gupta. Don't ask me why. The poor old man heard me out, blurted out a few comforting words, after which I began my way back home. I stay on the 4th floor of a building which has no elevator. But that night it seemed like I was climbing the Everest. It was almost 9:00. I was feeling a lot better, to be honest. It's been 5 days now. But that night still seems far from over. Hopefully, someday, I will give it an ending that it deserves. September 5th, 2010. It was...a Sunday. Hey, but it was not as bad as you think it was. I reached home. I climbed the Everest.

We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs...drink up me 'earties yo-ho...!

Strike three...!

For those of you who have been nice enough to follow my blog for a while and have read a post of mine titled 'Three to tango..' will know what I'm talking about here. But for the ones who have decided to waste the next 10-15 minutes of their lives to read this nonsense for the first time, I'll unfortunately have to make you face the devil in the details. So, let's put this in chronological order, shall we?

Strike # 1

As you all know, I fell for Prachi in the year 2002. The first day of the college. This is the year 2010. So you can do the math as to how long I've been crying for the moon. The ups and downs in this journey of 8 years surely made this nothing short of a saga. The first two years of college went by staring at her from a distance of a good five to six yards. Then came the ladies room incident, which I like to call the 'LR debacle', in the month of September 2004, wherein I "supposedly" proposed to her. Just to make myself clear, I didn't propose to her. But whatever I did that day, as silly as it may sound, is something that I'm darn proud of. From 2004 onwards, ensued the relentless persecution, courtesy of her friends who would later be referred to as "A bunch of Prachi guys". In the process of being picked on by those vultures, any chances of me getting close to her began dwindling. Then came the year 2006. On the 1st of December, following a fortunate rencounter, I got a chance to get to know the girl of my dreams. All was going well, until the month of May, 2007. Things fell apart, we lost touch for a long time because of some outside interference. She made a comeback to my life at the fag end of 2008. Things were shaping up well, but then the momentum didn't sustain. Now she's busy in her life and her job and is doing pretty well on the career front. I haven't really spoken to her in a long time. It's been over a year since the last time I saw her. And that's all I have to say about that.

Strike # 2

Shifa still remains a mystery to me as well as to Sid. She came in at the start of 2008, and took off in not more than two or three months. But not before making an indelible impact on my life. She and I had hit it off immediately. We got real close. Then one fine day she thought that I was fake. I met her just twice after that. Once to hear her say that I'm fake and lots of other things that she called me in person. That's when the whole "You hate your father and you still were his shirts?" dilemma arose. Hey, I never said that she was the brightest girl that I fell for. And the second time she met me was when I had asked her to as I had nowhere else to go for a while because of personal reasons. But things didn't get better from that day onwards as one would expect. We lost touch again. I believe the last time I spoke to her was on the 12th of January, 2010. She asked me to write a poem about her, don't ask me why as I don't know. And of course, I obliged. But thereafter, once again, we lost touch. This one was a roller-coaster ride. Why? Because it had lots of highs and lows. And also because it got over no sooner than it started. And that's all I have to say about that.

Strike # 3

Oh, boy, this was the saddest of them all. Who says that "The best is saved for the last"? And who was that douche who said "Third time's a charm"? Anyway, Shweta and I met at ADMIS, my MBA institute. We began as good friends. I fell for her. She fell for someone else. They started going around. There was not much that I could do, except supporting those two knuckleheads. Once I cracked a filthy joke, which is a routine for me, that drove the lovebirds up the wall. We didn't talk to each other for a long time. Then I confronted her about the situation. We talked it out, she apologized and things came back on track by the end of my last semester of MMS. Or so I thought. I tried contacting her a good number of times after college ended, but she never answered the calls. Not even on her birthday this month. The next day though, she did pick up my call. Only to tell me that she had made a big mistake by being friends with me. And that she regrets meeting me in the first place and that I'm a "wrong person". Being as bewildered as I was, I tried to find the reasons behind this outburst of hers. As it turned out, on the basis of the details that her boyfriend chose to divulge, she never really liked me as such. She thought that I cracked filthy jokes and I'm not someone worth being around. I was pretty okay with that. But I wonder why she didn't tell me this in those two years when she was walking by my side and pretending to laugh on those very same jokes. But when things go wrong for her, and yes they will, she'll realize that she and her life have one thing in common. They're both bitches. And that's all I have to say about that.

Game over

On Ashu's advice, I promised him that I will delete these three numbers from my cell forever, the day he learnt about strike three. And I have lived up to my word. So the point is, that I got through all these strikes, I took all the blows, I went in that big bad dark world and came out of the other side, stronger than ever. I have no complaints about Shifa. She was stupid. Plus they haven't invented the technique of "Brain transplant" yet. So I guess it wouldn't have worked anyway. Darwin's theory believed in evolution. Today we all believe that apes evolved into humans. But this wouldn't have applied in case of Shweta. Once a bitch, always a bitch. That leaves us with Prachi. Some of you may think that I'm going back to square one. Well, quite frankly, in my defense, I don't think I ever got off square one to begin with. And I'm not sure if I ever will. So...strike one, strike two, strike three! I'm out! But I guess that's where baseball and life differ. In life, you're not out until you don't breathe your last. And I don't intend on doing that any time sooner. In life, you win or lose on the basis of the number of hits and misses that you had throughout this whole time. I don't know if I'm going to hit it out of the park this time or not. But just grabbing that darn bat again...sure feels good. As that dude in 'Signs' said...just swing away.

P.S.: The girls mentioned above cannot sue me as I have not mentioned their last names. So long, suckers! We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs, drink up me 'earties yo-ho! And mates, that's the story of how I bored the crap out of the people who read this post. And that's all I have to say about that.

Never..

Dancing with that ghost unseen,

Not knowing how long has it been,

I still see that shadow in my dreams,

"Will never leave you!" is what it screams..

(Chorus)

I'll never be the same again they say,

I'll never see the light of a brand new day,

I'll never ever find that pleasure sea,

I'll never find what's inside of me..

I'm living a lie, I know it now,

It's something that I just can't allow,

I better not run from that hound,

I better not hide, and let be found..

(Chorus)

I'll never be the same again they say,

I'll never see the light of a brand new day,

I'll never ever find that pleasure sea,

I'll never find what's inside of me..

A fantasy can never last that long,

For eternity to you it can never belong,

The moment you feel it's all in the past,

You realize you haven't seen its last..

(Chorus)

I'll never be the same again they say,

I'll never see the light of a brand new day,

I'll never ever find that pleasure sea,

I'll never find what's inside of me..

The life post-ADMIS..

It all started around three months back, sometime during the month of May. I had taken up a sales job at Infomedia 18 Ltd, which was not the wisest decision of my life. I slogged my ass off there for nearly a month. Not to mention, I got the company some business, too. One fine day, I came back home cursing my job, the rains, the traffic, the customers, my boss, some tall guy on a bike with his girlfriend and pretty much everything that I could see, hear or smell. While surfing through the internet, I came across a job opening which seemed to suit my interests. It was an editing job. It didn't have much in it for me in terms of money, but it sure as hell seemed a lot better than the cruel world of sales that I was living in back then. Following a phone call that evening, I got myself an interview the very next day. After four endless hours, I was told that I had been hired. I joined the company in just three days as I had no intention of wasting any time. However, as a result of putting down my papers without a 15-day notice, those bastards at my previous job didn't pay me a single dime. In fact, I'm still trying to squeeze something out of them.

I've been at my new job for a little over a month now. I seem to have settled in nicely. The money is not great, but it's enough to survive for sometime, while I get some work experience.

Things haven't been too bad on the personal front either. Sid has always been around to cheer me up on weekends, with a little help from alcohol. Farzana is having her own set of problems which I haven't been able to discuss with her since the past month or so. Prachi is nowhere in the picture. Shweta does not pick up my calls. Ashu has landed a great job in Delhi and doesn't seem to be in the mood to step foot in Mumbai anytime soon. I miss him the most from ADMIS. Harsh got a new job at 'Just Dial', which ironically is the most formidable competitor of the previous organization I worked for. Priya is also at her job and is doing well so far. Then we have Namrata and Reenav working at that media company, and from the looks of their posts of FB, it seems like they're really having a ball down there. King Kenneth has been busy doing sales in a thermacol company and from what I hear, he's been doing quite well so far. Ameya has finally admitted that he's in love with Debanjali and that they are, indeed, a couple. He's now working for a division of Deutsche Bank, earning a pretty penny every month. I think it is 6.5 lacs p.a. if I'm not wrong. Vasu is stuck in a logistics' profile which he absolutely abhors. Santosh got a job in a bank. So all the hard work put in for all those bank exams finally paid off, so to speak.

Naveen was giving some exams a couple of months back. I've now forgotten which ones they were. The man gives too many exams, it's hard to keep a track. The last time I met Kunal was at Sid's cousin, Akshay's house, for a night out, where he almost cried. Now, the only saving grace of that evening was the alcohol and the jokes that all of us cracked about Kunal's hand that was going to be utilized in more than one way for some ad commercial. I believe he also mentioned that the hand would be used in 18 different positions. Now, it was funny enough, but the alcohol made it hilarious.

Well, that brings us to yours truly again. Life post-ADMIS. It has been a mixed bag of sorts. In some ways I miss it, in some ways I don't. Life has slowed down a lot now, or may be it has just sped up. Because nowadays, I don't realize when my day starts and when it ends. Anyway, who knows what's in store next? But one thing is for sure. Whatever happens henceforth, whether good or bad, the rum will always be there to do its job. Sing along mateys... We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs... Drink up me 'earties yo-ho..!

I better believe...

I better believe that she's gone,

leaving me alone at the crack of dawn,

i thought of this as a nightmare,

just trying to give me another scare....

I better believe, time has ran out,

leaving my life in a sea of doubt,

the longer i live, the harder it gets,

against my dreams why destiny bets...

I better believe that all is lost,

that it can never return at any cost,

the more i think, the less i know,

i wonder now which way should i go...

I better believe that the end is near,

the march of silence, now i can hear,

it doesn't matter what's right or wrong,

i better just keep singing this song.....

Down and out....

First of all..let me just say that....finally....'The Kid' has come back to the blogging world! It took me a long time to find my way back to this world. Now, i need to fill you up on what has been happening in my life. I finished my MMS course a couple of months back and found myself jobless even by the end of the same, thanks to my not-so-brilliant placement co-ordinator- Miss Kavita Mishra. Then, happened something that i regret till date. I gave an interview at Infomedia 18 Pvt Ltd for the position of a Business Development Executive, and was unfortunate enough to crack it. I joined the organization on the 10th of May, and was put through 2 weeks of endless on-the-job and classroom training. But little did i know, that the ordeal was just beginning. My first week went well as i got 2 accounts for the company and got a lot of appreciation from all and sundry. Then came along the 2nd week which turned out to be a lot less than ordinary. Now comes in the 3rd week, the most difficult of them all. And i am expected to bring in Rs.20,000 in 4 days...!

By the way, Prachi stopped taking my calls once again after i wished her on her birthday on the 12th of April. I tried her cell on my birthday as well, but to no avail. And that's all i have to say about that.

Mates, i'm down and out right now. The days are passing by and life has turned really bland. I'm already looking for a job change to be honest with you. Let's see what happens...until then...sing along...

We're devils and black sheep...and really bad eggs....drink up me 'earties yo-ho...!!!!

The other love..

Sitting by myself, in a lonely moment,

i was hit by this sudden thought,

i wondered what life would've been,

had the other love i had sought...

With a wry smile on my face,

breathing the cold air around,

i wondered what life would've been,

had the other love i had found....

With a heavy sigh that escapes the lips,

and dry eyes that have cried,

i wondered what life would've been,

had the other love been by my side...

With a broken heart that still beats,

amidst the shadows i look for sunshine,

i now wonder what life would've been,

had the other love been mine...

The Drum roll....

Hello mates, this is a story that deserves a blog post. This past Saturday, i.e. the the 23rd of January, 2010, was my satanic baptism, as my good friend Ashutosh quoted. It all started a week prior to that fateful day when my laptop started giving me a lot of trouble. Although my laptop got back in shape way before Saturday, the idea of having a night out with my Kalina friends coupled with that of alcohol was quite a tempting thought that had precipitated in my mind during the course of that week. Plus, i was cocksure that i was in good hands, considering that Ashu was supposed to be around for this occasion. Then a perfect lie had to be concocted in order to keep my mother in the dark about what her son was about to do. The lie was simple and virtually foolproof- i had to get my laptop formatted post the 6.30pm lecture which would take a good 4 hours, which meant that i would need to stay over at Ashu's while my other good friend, Rahul Jiwane, fixes up my ailing machine. It was the perfect alibi. Then came the unforgettable evening. I had been to their room just once before, and as it turned out, it was not an easy place to find the second time. So after getting lost and realizing that i had taken the wrong lane, i walked back and somehow managed to reach their room. Their place is at a 15-minute walk from the Mumbai University, and falls on the famous 'Kalina lane'. It is quite a busy street, flooded with pedestrians heading their way to work, or just to chill out. After walking on that road for a while you will come across a modish bar- TWO STAR, which by the way is a popular hangout in the area and is almost adjacent to Ashu's place. I reached their room at around 7.30pm to find my three friends-Rahul [Salunke], Kaustubh and Ashutosh lying sprawled across their respective cots in their respective pyjamas while watching the TV. Jiwane who according to my mom was busy taking care of my laptop, had taken off to Goa to celebrate after learning that he had landed a great job with a CTC of 6.5 lacs at RCF, thanks to an exam he had given a few months back.

If Jiwane's vacant bunk thought that it was going to spend the night alone, it turned out to be a poor guesser. The room was a cosy little place, the quintessential bachelors' apartment. All their clothes were hung up on the string attached to the two walls parallel to Salunke's bed. However, it was a lot neater than i expected. The four beds were very well-positioned to the outline of the room. After watching the news for a while, Salunke headed out to get some ice and cold drinks, whereas me and Ashu went in search of the much awaited liquor. We walked for a while, checking out the area while Ashu explained to me which road ended where. On our way back, we stopped at a wine shop which was at a modest distance from their room. We bought 3 bottles of Old Monk, a quarter each. That's correct mates, after crossing the wine-line and overcoming the beer-fear, it was time to hear the drum roll..! Then we stopped at another shop to buy some snacks, or may i say 'Chakna' in this case.We stopped for the third time at a general store to buy a few transparent plastic glasses as we were falling short of those, and drinking rum for the first time called for the rule of staring into the liquid through the glass. Salunke was back with the ice and Thums-up in a jiffy. We gathered in the middle of the room in front of a small table where all the apparatus was placed.Then came the epoch-making moment. The bottle was opened by Ashu with his elbow in a way which i don't really seem to remember. The reddish-brown liquid flew smoothly into our respective glasses, followed by the soft-drink, and finally, the ice-cubes. As we raised the toast to the present and the future [which seems quite bleak at this moment], Kaustubh announced that no one should put their glasses down before taking a sip. We followed the orders. That first sip was just about fine. I was told by Ashu later that he had made my drinks extra-light. The thums-up was dominating the taste, and hence i relaxed, thinking that i was going to have an uneventful evening. Boy, was i in for a surprise..!

The television went off after a while as the need to get entertained had found new means in the form of the alchohol-virgin who was getting laid. Two drinks later, i started feeling light-headed. The magic was doing its work. All my senses seemed to be shifting to the slow-motion mode. Life started to seem a little easier. Sensing that i was close to start 'flying-high', Ashu told Kaustubh to take me out for a walk as he wanted to recharge his cell or something. To my shock, i wasn't able to stand straight. When i tried walking, i struggled to maintain my balance. It was real bad; but it felt real good. With Kaustubh making sure that i don't run into a person or a car, we walked for a little while and came back. Ashu told me later that the walk helps after getting drunk as it breathes some fresh air into your tired body. After returning, i gulped down two more glasses, taking my score to 2/3rd's of a quarter. That is all it took for me to hit rock-bottom. I still vividly remember what i was saying, but the way in which i was rambling was a scene right out of a bollywood film. I realized this the next morning, when i was shown the 39-minutes long video that the three other kooks had taken. I was screaming and yelling and singing songs...! I even dialled Prachi's number at 10.30pm in the heat of the moment, but thank goodness she didn't pick up the damn call. When i tried to walk on a line, on the carpet, i managed to walk everywhere else except on the line. At one point of time, i found myself talking to my shirt. I have always loved that shirt of mine, but not enough to have a conversation with it. Anyways, the funny part comes in next.

After finishing all the three bottles, Ashu came out as the clear winner, hands-down, in terms of the quantity consumed. While i was the only contender for the 'going bananas' award. Then, strangely enough, i started demanding more liquor. In fact, i kept on insisting for another bottle, until Ashu's brain uttered the word 'Eureka!', sotte voce. He took me out for a walk again. However, this second time was a lot worse than the first. Ashu literally had to carry me the whole time, as i was in no shape to walk on my own. I was walking in the middle of the road for crying out loud..! It was Ashu who pulled me in before the newspapers could get a run-of-the-mill story of another hit-and-run case the next morning. This walk was a longer one, and as told by Ashu later, a much needed one too. On our way back, Ashu pointed out the closed shutter of the wine shop putting an end to my incessant requests of more liquor. The next day i was told that the closed shop which Ashu had shown me was actually a shop where watches get repaired. I should've known better, which wine shop in the world closes down at 11pm on a Saturday night...???? I missed this one, but i still had the presence of mind to mention that we could still enjoy another glass at TWO STAR. But Ashu brushed it away, and vetoed the idea by saying that it was closed too. Needless to mention, he was lying again. I came back into the room requesting the other two to join me in demanding more rum. Ashu said that that night i was too drunk to notice how concerned and surprised he was to see me insisting on more drinks. He said that he hoped he had not made a huge mistake of introducing me to Mr.Old Monk. I had to reassure him that nothing of that sort is going to happen. Getting back to the story, i was made to have some dinner by Ashu which was actually very tasty. It was aloo-mutter, one of my all-time favorites. The food didn't end my tantrums though. I was told that no one drinks after having their meals. I finally gave up after losing all hope. The weird part was that i wanted to drink more because i wanted to stay in that ethereal world that i had found myself in. A world without pain, a world without worries, a world without sadness. After having a hazy conversation with Ashu, i managed to get back to my bunk at around 1.15am. I collapsed on the soft cotton surface below me and dozed off in a matter of seconds.

The next morning i thanked my buddies for the past night and headed out to get back home. My mom, who supposedly has the nose of a bloodhound, failed to smell a rat or the rum. It was one hell of a night. I want to thank those three again for taking care of me. As far as Mr.Old Monk is concerned, let me just say that Sir, you haven't seen the last of me..! Today i deserve to sing this song mates....we're devils and black sheep...and really bad eggs....drink up me 'earties yo-ho....!!!!!!!

A place where...

This is a place where,
things never stay the same,
whether friends or feelings,
along with the seasons change...

This is a place where,
people come real close,
but then they turn strangers,
and take their own roads...

This is a place where,
alliances are formed,
but none of them ever sustain,
before you know it, they're gone....

This is a place where,
reality plays a few tricks,
you lose touch with the truth,
while you learn what fiction is...

This is a place where,
your soul gets lost,
though it is never found,
the search goes on....

Sign of the lord...

She had arrived out of the blue,
with a solemn look in her eyes,
she was a mystery without a clue,
a little silly, a little wise.....

Her beauty was a quiet one,
it was the envy of even the moon,
her glow would even shame the sun,
for lonely eyes, she was a boon...

Her conscience was crystal clear,
she always was as right as rain,
she stood her ground, she had no fear,
she never really was a regular Jane...

If one ever crossed the drawn line,
a silent fury she would show,
her heart belonged to a serene shrine,
she had the rage of an angel though....

Still waters do run deep,
and there is a quiet before the storm,
she would shed tears in her sleep,
though the day would keep her heart warm....

She was a friend, and will always be,
to help her out, i'll do all i can,
i'm grateful to her for being with me,
and how i thank the 8th of Jan....

Her smile would always make my day,
her laughter was the sound of life,
she would keep my worries at bay,
putting an end to my eternal strife...

But there was a sadness about her,
which always made my heart cry,
her sigh would make my soul stir,
to make her smile, is all i would try....

Her temper would rise, and then go mild,
and one would wonder where it went,
She was a woman, and yet a child,
the world is what, to me she meant...

One moment she was the calm sea,
at another, an angry wave,
although she was the same to me,
to know her more, is what i would crave...

She had substance in her soul,
her heart was made of gold for sure,
with her, the good times would roll,
and hence her name meant the cure...

With her my life was a paradise,
her presence, ever so divine,
to end the pain, and the sound of cries,
was heaven-sent, that friend of mine....

All my demons, then she slayed,
she got me over my pain and grief,
by my side always she stayed,
and helped me turn over a new leaf....

But then she left and i looked around,
to find the echoes of a broken chord,
now after ages, i have heard her sound,
if she is back, there sure is a lord....