Skip to main content

Chug all night

The place and time doesn't seem to matter. You could be perched on a barstool, seated at a table, sunk into a couch or standing in a nook. At some point, you're staring intently into the mug. The tiny bubbles take on a life of their own. The white foam is now only a thin circle around the edges. Using the palm of your hand, you gently massage your eyes and take another sip. Then, without fail, you look into the bottom of the mug, through the beer & the glass; scrying your way down the drinker's rabbit-hole. What usually follows is this. 
---------------------------------------
The Searing Synopsis:

A: Umm... so what do you guys talk about ?
B: Hmm... random stuff man. I mean, there's so much...
C: Yea right! We meet, we drink beer & whine "we don't have girlfriends"
B: *Bastard*
---------------------------------------
The Multifarious Motif: 

A: So, what's the scene with her dude?
B: I donno... doesn't seem to be going anywhere.
C: Meaning ?
B: Its hard to say... I donno... confusing. Don't know if I like her enough.
A & C: *Mental face-palm*
----------------------------------------
The Recurring Regret:

A: You guys broke up, why exactly ?
B: I donno... it wasn't going anywhere.
A: Uhuh.
B: I figured I'd meet someone else.
C: How long ago was this ?
*Silence*
B: Umm... it's been a few years.
A & C: *Mental face-palm*
----------------------------------------
The Perennial Puzzle:

A: So, if you had to choose - hook up with someone you were fond of, or wait to meet someone you're in love with.
B & C (and 99% of those asked): I'd wait for love. Yea, definitely.
A: And cheers to that. *Glasses clink*

1 very arid year later -

A, B, C: Wow, love is never going to happen is it ?

*The whooshing sound of an empty social cupboard*
-----------------------------------------
The Toothless Totem:

A & B: So, you made a move yet ?
C: She sees us more as friends, dude. We've become really good friends.
A & B: *Mental face-palm* 
-----------------------------------------
The Fact:

A: You know... we're washouts.
----------------------------------------

Song for the Moment: Desperado - The Eagles

Comments

:D
i have nothing more to say
girish said…
:) And you don't have to either.

Popular posts from this blog

Night Boat

I usually don't write honest pieces. They're true to facts but I tend to lather my emotions and thoughts with a heavy dose of attempted humour or misdirection. This post deserves some raw emotional honesty, though.

Yesterday, 29th August, a Tuesday (or should I say, another Tuesday) was about me making choices. It was raining quite heavily when I left for office, sheeted down the windows of the train throughout the 1-hour journey to Churchgate and kept going with renewed intensity by the time I made it to the entrance, looking verily like something that had drowned in a gutter and lain there a while before being discovered by a cat and dragged in. I made the choice to go to work as I suspected my boss would be there and not because I wanted to go.

I was right about my boss but that cardiac fizz of being right flattened out rather rapidly once I realised, around 11:30 am, that no one else from my team of 20 had bothered to make a similar effort. And, some of these guys live 5 …

Last of my kind

(This post hasn't come out as well as I wanted. But I'm still pissed off, so.)

Why do we have heroes? What is it about someone that triggers a decision to nail our colours to their mast? I don't have a neat answer so what you read from here on is both an explanation and an exploration. In a post-modern world driven by counter-points, certainty is a luxury.

I missed the boat when it came to India's ODI cricket madness. We moved abroad in the late 80s. When I left, my friends and I wanted to be Kapil, Kris or Sunil. When I returned, god was getting comfortable on his heavenly couch and all was right with a world I did not recognise. I had missed Sachin's opening batsman debut against New Zealand, the hullabaloo of the Hero Cup and other notable moments. So, I was interested in cricket, not any particular sportsman. Not even during the '96 World Cup. When India muffed it against Sri Lanka, I hurt for the team, not for a player.

Then came Dravid. And, personally, …

Drink up and be somebody

Dear Reader,

History will boldly testify that your favourite blogger is usually slow on the uptake, a state of affairs that's blooming with each passing year like a reverse-Revital. "Why this self-harshness, G", you may ask? Well...

I've been doing the Bom-Pune-Bom trips for 9 years and it's taken about that long to accept that MSRTC Shivneri, still the best bus service of them all, simply cannot (or, realistically, will not) cope with 3-day weekends. Since my job profile does not allow me to plan my travel in advance on said Fridays, I land up at Dadar, view the queue of potential passengers snaking a long way from the ticket window and mentally prepare to arrive home at the hour of morning reserved for sheepish teenagers and dacoits. The Expressway doesn't help anyone's cause thanks to truck drivers spreading themselves generously across 3 lanes and clogging the Lonavala pass to a point where the traffic jam is about 3 km long. A stretch that would tak…