Thursday, August 07, 2008

 

Writing Under Influence

I drank tonight. And not water or juice or any of the other beverages. The real stuff. And not mere tasting or surreptitious sipping of the Blue Label that everyone at home was raving about. I drank to the point of feeling light in the head. It would be too harsh and decidedly untrue to say I was drunk. But it would also be stretching the truth to say I was completely sober. I was in the condition where I certainly shouldn’t have driven. But I was in control of most of my faculties. To confirm the same, I cycled to and fro a bit almost in a straight line, gave a near-flawless rendition of ‘Johnny Johnny Yes Papa’ and could recall that the capital of Chad was N’Djamena and that of Burkina Faso was Ougadougou.


I’ve held out against alcohol for quite some time now. However, unlike smoking against which I feel very strongly, I never saw the point of being a teetotaler. No harm in socially drinking. Plus you miss out on a whole world of liquor tasting if you choose to abstain. And I’m always one for new experiences. Moreover, the alcohol in question had been thoughtfully brought from Europe by bosom buddies and you don’t get Danish Vodka and German Whisky everyday.


The light-headedness has worn down now. I didn’t throw up and am quite certain I won’t. Others, after having danced to ‘Main Talli ho gayi’ a dozen times, have retired to sleep. And though not drunk, I’m still in a bit of a haze and it occurred to me that it would be dashed good thing to have a go at the keyboard.


Having downed 3 shots of Vodka (neat), 1 of whisky (equally neat) and 1 mixed, not to mention a couple of very diluted pegs, I spent my calming down hours sitting in what used to be fondly called the Farmhouse. Melancholy was gradually stealing over me and the sight of my once lush green home didn’t make matters any better. Ever since I’ve returned, everything around me seems to portend, and rightly so, that my days at R are sadly numbered. There was a mass clearing out of the hostel last year and it just doesn’t seem the same. The familiar corridors are dotted with unfamiliar faces. Happy memories of days gone by manage to break through the armour of stoic nonchalance that I’ve tried to create and leave me craving for those days again. The hostel is young again; the newbies will soon develop their own culture and make it a happy home, but for now I’m stuck in the kind of limbo in which Hewitt managed to sneak in a Wimbledon title.


The damage done to the farmhouse has specially been heartbreaking. Those calm nights of endlessly gazing into nothingness while silence spoke comfortingly to me will never occur again. The Farmhouse was equally comforting to Lefty when he was struggling to scrape a respectable B, when he was looking to while away sleepless hours and when he was brimming with bouts of confidence which admittedly were few and far between. A monstrosity of pillars and foundations stares at me now, with the profs’ quarters glaring malevolently from behind. The little tranquility that remains in the wee hours is but a hollow vestige of an era gone by.


The air is thick with the news that my time is all but over. These losses are small, soft and subtle yet sudden and shattering. The farmhouse is one of the first of the things that I’ve had to forego and coming after the mag, it is now certain that the wheel of losses has turned into a relentless juggernaut. The rat race for CAT, XAT, GRE and the dozen other exams intensifies with each passing day. Placements begin in December, turning friends into foes vying for the limited places in the limited dream companies. DC leaves at the end of the year. And then the scramble will begin to say good-bye to every nook and cranny, to cherish the last of the moments spent in this long forgotten town before life becomes miserable ever after.


Comments:
I find it disturbing that you knew the capitals of Chad and Burkina Faso in the first place.
 
I read "Nice guys finish last" and now I read this one.

Time's changing....

But the quality remains the same.
 
You sound so 20-year-old-ish...Stop grumbling and be a good 21-year-old...
 
Hmmm... People, I hear, drink to drown their sorrows. You, however, have realized your sorrows under influence. (Perhaps intoxication isn't the thing for you)

P.S. You write pretty well under influence. Are you sure you had that many shots?
 
This comment has been removed by the author.
 
I can really imagine the kind of void you are feeling. Sometimes I do feel the time I spent in my 1st year was an epic in itself. And you have seen and loved and cherished much more than that. But time is a cruel thing all we can do is to abide.

How was the Whiskey anyways ?
 
I second that -

did u actually write under influence? (if yes, it's pretty great. if no, it's pretty great!) ;)

n how on earth d'u know the capital of Chad n Burkina Faso in d 1st place?... very very disturbing!

n pls don't get all senti bout your colg life like that... it makes me hate mine all d more!! boohoo...

P.S. why the hell did i miss MY chance of sipping vodka months ago??
 
Danish vodka? German whiskey? I know it's a long shot, but will any of these feature on tonight's menu?
 
@ Mathew
Less alarming than knowing GNU and being familiar with Ubuntu, your Geekiess.

@ Rahul
thanks

@ Murty
Hippity Bippity hoe.

@ Anirudh
I had the shots. I was just not that intoxicated, I guess. And my lappy being puke free is testimony to that.

@ Amit
Wise thought.
The whiskey was amazing. Jaggermeister or something.

@ Srishti
He he, he he, he he and he he.

@ Dela
Always good to be optimistic. Makes you appreciate the harsh realities of life even more.
 
There have been only two things now that have made me 'senti' in the entire course of my life.. one was watching Into The Wild and the second is now.. reading your post and realising that a year from now I will be in your shoes..
4th year?? Why god why?? We had a pact!!!
 
@ Kaka
Getting you sent.! This has to be the greatest accomplishment of my life.
 
now that you are not virgin anymore...i would invite you to spoil yourself, next time try active not passive smoking :) (though i have given up)
and believe me it has just started you will get the most out of this year...so save nostalgia for another 9-10 months
n yeah i could take "i ran naked on the street" but not the "capital" thing
 
@ Tranquility
I'm not exactly planning to drink a lot. Give me Danish Vodka and German Whiskey again and I'll join you like a shot. The others, as Ratna Pathak would say, are so 'middle class'.
Smoking. No No. But good to know you've given up the infernal habit.
Nostalgia comes and goes in phases. Guess it'll only build up now.
How's the big bad world treating you?
 
Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]





<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]