Happy New Year

I was not feeling well. Its not that I usually feel well, spirited and in the best of moods. But it was biting cold and I had a slight headache as well. Add to that, my pessimist view of things and the recent bout of depression (again!), and you get a muddled, depressed, frustrated and confused personality called 'ME'.

Being a doctor in one of the rare health institutions in the region that paid well was a positive in my favour (disregarding my pessimist view of things. Now, ladies, I am not the ideal match for you- so please back off!). And to have a rare off day on New Year Eve was something any of my colleagues would have traded for. In fact I did get offers to exchange duties. One guy was so desperate as to offer to do three shifts if only I would give him the off day. I was tempted too, but knowing the guy and his insane ways, I refused to take the bait.

So, I was in my room surfing the net as usual trying to concoct a good story to upload in my blog as well as juggling the various tabs in the browser which showed the recent news, one social networking site, a men's magazine site (with images of beautiful feminine figures) and my favourite literotica site. The mind was blank. No good story would come to my mind. No inspiration either. The news was stale and the other sites were taking far too long to load.

In came Ayush. He is probably one or two years older, almost my height, has a good physique, is admired by the ladies (and is careless about it) and is worldly wise. And he talks a lot. The yarns he weaves, the stories he tells- if I were him, I could have updated my blog regularly with stories, anecdotes and experiences- all featuring myself as the protagonist (even if it were someone else in reality and even if events didn't happen as they were told).

'Huh! Surfing porn again?'. His knowledge of computers and the net is confined to surfing porn and watching titillating videos. 'Give a rest to those poor eyes and that sore hand, not to speak of little Johnny down there. Lets go enjoy ourselves. Its New Year Eve, yaar!'

'Where to?' I ask. You can't say no to this person if he is bent on something (which he usually is, on everything). And anyway, I was getting bored with the inactive state of affairs on my monitor.

'We are planning a party. In JK's room. They have already brought some snacks. We are going to get some booze.'

It was cold but I knew I had no option. You never have one with Ayush. He gets things done his way. 'Lemme get my jacket and cap' I say.

Ten minutes later, I was riding pillion with him on his rusty, rickety but trusted bike, along the winding slopes, trying to shield myself from the onrushing wind. I was shivering despite my layers of protective clothing. Plus I always had this sense of imbalance. If the bike leaned too far while taking a turn, I had this insane fear that I would fall off. But grown-ups don't say out their fears loud and I kept mum. The ordeal was over within a further twenty minutes, thankfully with all the booze stacked neatly in JK's room and the party set to begin.

There were three more people in the room. JK, PP and Sid. Whether it is a trend to sound anglicised or mere ease of communication, many of my acquaintances have their names shortened to the initials of their names or a shortened but anglicised form of their name. Thus Jayanta Kalita became JK, Palash Phukan became PP (we however made it sound Pee-Pee!) and Sidhdharth became 'Sid'.

'Oh! So made it at last! I was wondering whether you had gone to sleep on that 'khatara' of yours'. JK's welcoming notes greeted us.

'Yeah. I did. By the way, why don't you go out in the cold when we run out of booze? I'll time you'. Ayush shot back.

'And how is our peeping tom today?' PP said. He is one of the least read guys in our group. I sometimes wonder if he even knows what peeping tom really means. Or for that matter whether he even touched his  forensic textbooks during the four and a half years long MBBS course. He is the sort who is more into physical sports- groping female body parts in crowded places or parties included.

I ignored his comment and asked 'Everything ready?'

Everything was ready. The table was laid out- its erstwhile occupants (which included two tomes of Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine, some drug literature, some physician's samples and one or two magazines) thrown haphazardly on the bed. Yesterday's newspaper was spread out over the table and a bottle of Vodka and some disposable glasses were laid upon it. Chicken was being cooked in a pressure cooker while some packets containing 'tanduri chicken' were lying open ready to be served. The light was dimmed with the help of a plastic bag covering the naked bulb while the tubelight was turned off. Bottles of water and cold drinks rounded up the culinary requisites.

We took our places around the table. All except Sid. He was busy with his new Nokia N97. Sid is like that only- a show off. And being born with a silver spoon in your mouth doesn't hurt either. He had everything he wanted- a swank new car, the latest gadgets available, a fashionable wardrobe. Only he was a spendthrift inspite of all these riches (or maybe his Dad had taught him something about savings which our dads hadn't taught us).

'Hey Fucker! You need an invitation? With gold embroidered envelope? Do us a favour and shift that lazy ass of yours over here.' Ayush called.

'Oh! You guys started already? I had a bit of a problem with the pdf files in this phone. Was engrossed with it.' That was his explanation as he sauntered over to the table.

'What does pdf mean? Piss d fuck?' PP said. I told you guys. His English is crap even if he tries swearing.

'Lets get it started.' JK, the alcoholic decreed. We all raised our glasses, mumbled 'cheers' and took a sip. In JK's case, it was a swallow in which half the contents disappeared as if it were the genie in the lamp. Glasses were back on the table, chicken legs were searched for and the crunching sound of breaking bones were added to the sounds of the conversation.

The others were already on their second refills (with JK urging us to drink up fast) while I sat nursing my first drink. 'Hey Yuvi! You trying to last long this time? Drink up. We all are drinking Vodka this time.' JK urged making a reference to events of last year.

It so happened that being relatively new to this art of drinking, I had started with potentially 'lesser' drinks like Vodka mixed with cold drinks- Sprite being my favourite. The others were drinking Whisky last year while I had Vodka for myself. Unfortunately, Sprite was unavailable, so Ayush brought two bottles of Mirinda for me. During the course of events, someone (till date I don't know who did it) gobbled up my second bottle of Mirinda and filled it with Whisky. And by the time, I reached for that bottle, I was already drunk to notice the change in taste or the concentration. As a result, I was drinking a pure cocktail of Whisky and Vodka! I was sick the whole night and halfway through the next day.

'Just got a little headache. I'll go slow. You guys carry on.' I said.

Time passed. We got drunk. The conversation flitted fast from topic to topic- touching a whole gamut of subjects ranging from girls, bikes, books (even PP tried to sound literate!), boobs, money, society, life, politics and what not. The bottles started getting empty, the tanduri was long gone, the contents of the pressure cooker almost finished. The guys were getting drunk, and showing it. Speeches were slurred, gaits were unsteady.

Then came JK with his brainwave. You can always rely upon him to come up with it when he has a fair amount of alcohol imbibed inside.

'Lets go out, buy some more booze and tanduri and party outside. We can get the tanduri at that recently opened food outlet nearby.'

'Isn't it a bit cold outside?' I asked, being comparatively sober.

'Oh, stop whining and be a man, Yuvi!' Ayush chided. 'I am going on my bike. Dare to accompany me?' 

He knew well my fear of fast bikes and my unwritten principle of never riding a bike when drunk. But I had to show him.

'Sure.' I said.

So the other three piled up in Sid's car and me and Ayush on his bike and raced off into the night.

After getting the requisites, we went near the lake and sat atop Sid's car bonnet. Some people were sleeping on the footpath in the distance covered in torn blankets and gunny bags. A little boy was hovering nearby. Some dogs were fighting nearby, probably staking out their claim to a prospective meal of leftovers. 'I love dogs. They are so cool.' Sid started. 'I have an Alsatian and a Golden Retriever at home'. He threw a piece  of bone towards the dogs who started their 'two-dogs-and-a-bone-war' without waiting a moment.

Ayush and me were comparatively sober now as a result of our exposure to the chilly wind. Ayush immediately started making amends and launched upon the bottle (the glasses were forgotten in the room) with renewed vigour. The bottles were passed around. JK was almost passed out. He had already puked once and had come back to replenish what he had lost.

I had lost the thread of the conversation as I observed things. As I concentrated on the conversation, I heard Sid say, 'I hate those fucking politicians. Enjoying lives of unparalleled wealth, power and luxury while more than two-thirds of our population remains hungry. People have to sleep on footpaths. Not even a roof to cover their heads.' PP nodded his head in agreement. He doesn't have any ideas of his own. All he is interested is in birds (not the ornithological kind), booze and food. JK was passed out and lying inside the car. Ayush was busy gulping the clear liquid- finishing the last drops and smacking his lips.

'Oh! Shut up Sid! By tomorrow you won't even remember that you spoke these words. Let's get back. What to do with this leftover tanduri?'

'Feed it to the dogs.' Sid said.

'Yuvi, why don't you do the honours while I go and Pee-Pee?' Ayush said.

'Oh fuck off!' PP said.

I collected the leftover chicken in a poly bag while Sid, PP and JK took off in the car. As I was about to throw the bag towards the expectant hordes of dogs, I noticed the little boy.

'What are you doing kid?' I asked.'Why aren't you asleep?'

'Nothing Sir.' He said. 'I wasn't feeling sleepy.'

'What did you have for dinner?' I asked on an impulse.

He didn't answer.

I extended the bag towards him. He took it tentatively. Without saying a word, he turned and ran off towards the bunch of people sleeping on the footpath.The dogs howled in protest.

From a distance, I saw the kid go and shake a bundle on the footpath. The bundle sat up and took notice. She awoke the other bundles and then they started on the contents of the poly bag.

Ayush had started the bike and was blowing its horn.

As I straddled on the bike, I had a last look at the kid and his family and mumbled, 'Happy New Year Kid.'

'What?' Ayush shouted.

'Nothing.'I said. And we took off.