There are hangovers and then there are hangovers and then there is the mother of all hangovers and this morning she met me.
What began as an innocent toast to national yuletide spirit ended up with me wishing i had never been born.
So why drink? Good question (even if i do say so myself) but one that doesn't have any easy answers. My theory is that people drink because they are bored. And if any of you have been to a Delhi party, you'll know what i mean.
But first, The Rules(for Delhi Parties):
1. Do not, on pain of death, talk to anyone you haven't known for atleast ten years.
2. Do not, for fear of excommunication, introduce strangers to members of your clique.
3. If people's eyes begin to glaze over when you start talking about your exciting school picnic circa 92, parking problems in Khan market, and "the situation in Kashmir," throw in a random compliment. They'll find you interesting again.
Picture this. A room full of people. Some sit on sofas, some stand around in tight little concentric circles, everyone is staring at everyone else. New people walk in, get a drink, find a place, and join in the staring marathon. First the men stare at the women, then begin staring at other men, while the women stare fixedly at each other. (They are very few men in Delhi worth looking at. Sorry. It's true.)
After what seems like ages, a silent victory is declared. The victors smirk, flip open their miniature cellphones and make slow, sexy talk to sleek, platinum-blonde women in Dubai, the loosers sulk and hit the bar with a vengence. The women continue to stare at each other.
It's somewhere around this point that people turn to each other and begin talking. But its not so easy. Firstly, they've exhausted every topic of conversation, (refer the rules) Everything (weather, gossip, money, jobs, boss problems, cheating partners) has been discussed ad nauseam. every story has been heard a thousand times over. and over. and over.
BORING!
(Personally, I think anyone who parties for a living must have the patience of a saint, not to mention the IQ of a dinner plate.)
Another good reason to drink is that it makes your life interesting. How so? you ask. Well if you get very very drunk and do some very very stupid things, you have something to feel guilty and embarrassed about for the rest of the year. A very good reason to buy a long black trench coat and slither down dark office corridors, something my sexy, evil colleagues should do more of. And finally, if news gets out, (like it will, eventually) in an act of great magnanimity you've just given dozens of other bored people a reason to BE.
Hence, I have successfully proved :
Boring + Alchohol (Preferably of a good variety) = EXCITING!
Also you can get away with a lot of things when you're drunk that would be considered unpardonable if you were sober and sane.
A bit like PMS. Eg:
Husband (horrified): You just nailed our dog to the living room table.
Wife: (thunders):PMS
Husband (shrugs): oh.ok.
Similarly (except that we are not ALLOWED to drink in office!)
Express Building: 3 pm
Snitch: Boss, Ms X is standing on top of the table yelling racial slurs at all Southie journalists everywhere.
Boss: (heal-the-world type) Fire The Bitch.
Snitch: ONLY YOU can do that sir.
Express Building: 3 am
Snitch: Boss, Ms X is pulling noodles through her nose and yelling racial slurs at all Southie journalists everywhere.
Boss: Please don't call me at this time. I'm a family man. I'm sleeping.
Snitch: But Sir, ONLY YOU can do something.
Boss (Phyllosiphically): Has anyone ever been able to calm an angry sea, foretell the future or deal with a drunk woma....purple walrus..frangipaani, hits, hits..dkdkgfdskgfks zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
On a more serious note, my editor sitting next to me is peeking into all the "Racial crap" and is wearing a queeringly disgusted exression (Features desk.... can't be more personal and racial). He would want me to write about more "serious" stuff like "making strict staff supervision mandatory on all school picnics", the "problem of parking in Khan Market" and "the situation in Kashmir."
But for that, i'll need another drink.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
i agree that people get drunk cuz they are bored....but sometimes they drink just to dull the pain....
ha ha i feel stupid after saying that but i said it!
New Delhi Circa 21st Century - Entrepreneurs, diplomats, politicians, movie stars and media vying for their space on the page 3 party circuit as a barometer of their success, amidst the crowd is a young journalist from Chandigarh BORED to death!
Interesting reminds me of an instance in college, I was visiting a pal from school in Pune over the winter break and she and I did some serious partying from Christmas Eve until the 30th when we realized we’d run out of cash. New years was bound to be a somber affair until a dude sent us an invite for a party on his yacht in Bombay, we were enthralled it sounded lovely.
Well the party turned out to be a drag, apart from the well stocked bar, there wasn’t anything remotely exciting. The old monk and I did some serious bonding that night and apart from that there is little more that I remember of the evening. New Year’s morning dawned with a hang over and me scrambling for a cup of coffee on the breakfast table. Surprisingly the guys were gung-ho about how pretty Aishwarya looked the last evening and the gals couldn’t help talking about Bobby Deol and his new hairdo, obviously I was amused, you guys kidding I asked, they looked at me in dismay and replied with a big NO… what are you guys talking about? Chunky Pandey’s party last night came the reply, damn and where was I? “Drunk sleeping in the car” they sang in chorus…
On that note, 'Happy New Year.' Lovely and might i add, quite an inebriated story anon. Thanks for sharing your side of the sun... And yeah, the bonding bit about booze is boisterously bang on....
so, let the wines flow free!!!!!
Inebriated stories galore on the sunny side, at another instance the morning after a high spirited bachelor’s party I woke up from my slumber with a call from the groom’s mother asking for his whereabouts just 3 hours before his wedding and I didn’t have a clue. He wasn’t with us, nobody in the house knew where he was, he wasn’t with anyone we called and neither did they know where he could be! After hours of frantic phone calls and pandemonium the clown walked in screaming for coffee, the whole gang screamed back where the hell were you dude? you guessed it he was Sleeping in the car.
This New Years make sure you don’t leave any friends sleeping in the backseat of your car, Champagne Wishes n Caviar Dreams.
well aren't we a car drinker. always locomotive, eh? nice to hear your stories Niraj, blog some. Take care and here's to more sober beginings, or shall i say awakenings.
Post a Comment