Pink Floyd, Vodka and now, Chuck Palahniuk.
We all are addicts and we keep looking for potential in other people. We want them to be worse than us or at least as drowned as us, in our similar addictions. If not, we spread the same.
Virus and I are victims to the same dope – music, vodka, misery and Chuck Palahniuk.
The train journey to
Getting down at
Knowing Virus :
Virus and the ATMs:
Our first stop before the “big night out” was at an ATM. The ATMs at
Meet the people:
Chaitanya and Virus have been buddies since their school days. Back then they cursed their schools, now they curse Infy. Time moves on, people change, things to curse change, but the curses remain the same. When I entered their abode, there was no electricity. Chaitanya and me exchanged “hello” throwing torch-lights at each other. Then there was another roommate – Surendra aka Surya, another old friend of Virus. I do not know their subject of curses before, it is Infy now, is all I know.
But it was a while before he entered the scene. Till then, time was spent cursing him. An hour later, Surya came with money and some bad news – “Even they are coming”. Hurl of abuses and near death violence later, we locked the doors, got on the bikes and headed for the pub. On our way Virus came up with “Let’s get some stuff for us when we get home”, and I said oh yeah! Old Monk and some cola were the only available options. So Virus and I went back to the room but since the other two had carried the keys to the room, we were forced to keep the bottles outside. Hiding the booze behind the garbage bin was Virus’ brilliant idea.
Purple Haze had stopped serving drinks by the time we reached there.
An attempt at getting physical with one of the females at our table, a big smacking kiss to his roommate, an attempt to play with the wrong “instruments” in public were reasons strong enough for the management to show him out of the pub and slap him some fine.
A decent dinner later, we headed for home. I introduced Virus to Blackfield and we opened Old Monk. Weirdly, no one was in much of a mood to go crazy. So the rum lay aside while we discussed music. Then Floyd started playing and I suggested we raise a toast to them. We filled half our glasses and cheered for bottoms-up. I said let’s do this one more time. It went on for three more times till our noses and throat hurt. It didn’t take time; ten minutes later, the world became a blur and there remained no sense in the talk that followed. The proceedings of the night cannot be further disclosed due to one main reason – we do not remember what happened. I do remember talking to some random friend of Virus at 3 am, then calling Red at 3.15 am. The last memories of the night to me are of someone heading for the sink and myself, crashing onto the bed. Day one ended as planned!
The mornings after are never sweet. The numb day that followed shall be continued in the next part. Stay tuned.