Good To Be Drunk
I always wanted to become a sober. It wasn’t influence of any kind but the feeling of being clean always attracted me. I had asserted it was appalling. But now, to my stupefaction I am high in the drinking league and now what I know is I love being drunk.
It started a year ago when my best buddy, Aditya came running towards me and asked how did he looked. “Handsome, as always”, I replied and questioned him, “Why? What’s big today?”. With a humble expression in his face he told that he had a date today and he was going to propose her. I wished him luck.
Priya wasn’t the most gorgeous girl I had met but she was a beauty. Her fair, colorless skin had crimson colored cheeks which made her look no less than Snow White of the fairy tale and I thought Aditya could be her handsome prince. Her blue eyes were audacious to look at as if it were searching for something worthless. I didn’t thought it was sinister of her. Well! Her beauty had my admiration.
The next day Aditya elatedly gestured me that the job was done and he had won her love.I was happy for him. Moreover, I was happy for them. They were a beautiful couple .And now, days passed and nights darkened, the sun rose and the sun set, the inconstant moon appeared happy and appeared gloomy, the stars twinkled and it faded away. Nothing seemed harmful and the word “beautiful” was before his life. Those were happy hours, certainly.
But, to the dismay of every mankind the wind doesn’t always blows in the same direction. So didn’t it in his case. I’ll never forget the day when Aditya came to my flat with Ruslan Vodka in one hand and a Surya cigarette in the other. He wasn’t a big fan of both drinking and smoking but it was one of those time in life that needs puffs and pegs .With a sinister smile in his face he said. ”It’s over”. Priya had dumped him and fallen for another guy. He told he was glad to have the break up with her. He justified it with uncanny reasons from his unconscious mind. The Snow White turned out to have a dark heart. She was no fair damsel. I couldn’t help him and I couldn’t be sorry for him at the same time. I got drunk with him. I had to. He was my best friend.
Aditya wasn’t done yet. He wanted her back. I had always admired his stubborn nature. He tried to sway away her heart but the fair damsel showed him indifference as she was busy romancing her new found love. One should admit that the tone of the skin doesn’t determine anybody’s character. She wasn’t ready to acknowledge him again with her arms wide open. At last he gave up on her. But he never recovered from the sorrow of being left alone by his love. And now, I detested her. I thought of her as a red red rose but I had forgotten that rose do also have thorns. I began to ask myself, what immorality people have? What fake smile they act? What game they play? Of love? It was disgusting of her. But my friend never thought, he just drank and puffed and was strung out most of the time. Slowly he became uncontrollable of this habit as his emotions reached magnificent heights of insane fury over his lost love. He slowly began to puff joints and began to advance on to consume pills and at last he reached the league of inserting needles to his veins. He turned deaf ear on me and my warning advises. He was content on his new found world. He became an easy prey for drug traffickers.
Soon his parents found out about their sons misdoings and were compelled to put him in a rehabilitation center. There could be no other solution to the problem. But soon he ran out of the rehab and ended in the feet’s of his parents vowing never to return to doing drugs. Grief-stricken and perplexed at their son’s action they compassionately sympathized with him and accepted him again in their home. He proved them wrong and got himself into drugs again. It wasn’t long before he embarked on the same journey into the deep mist of drugs. The grim sorrow of being left by his love made him addicted to drugs. The fake love of a beautiful-by-appearance girl had made him lose his grip of his own life. Now he didn’t want to return to the mundane world and was happy living in the virtual world of his. Really, once people are addicted to drugs its hard to get rid of the habit and once again my friend became a daily customer of the drugs business. Again I tried to convince him to try get rid of the addiction and yes, at one point of his life he realized that he had to stop and start a new life but, even a stick of marijuana a day concept of mine to make him less addictive day by day until he would be able to cope up with the chill on his veins couldn’t meet the requirements of his daily dose. I couldn’t make him get low in drugs. I felt I had to act quickly so this time I complained to his parents that he had again fallen into drugs. They were shattered at the betrayal of their son and without judgment they put him in a rehabilitation center. He had menaced his life and as a friend I did what I had to. Every best friend ought to do that. Later, after a month I had gone to visit him and we had a dispute over this issue. He vowed never to look into my face again. I was grief-stricken at his assertion but I was glad that I was indeed a true friend.
And now, days went smoothly as it could. I had promised myself that I would devour upon that girl if I ever faced her again. But I refuted my promise when I suddenly faced the fair damsel as I was walking by the road in Asan. I was again perplexed by her beauty. What bright eyes she had. What red cheeks and what soft lips. She was a beauty. And instead of being annoyed at her I pitied her. The materialistic world had engulfed her soul as she had refuted the platonic love my friend, Aditya had given her. I felt that it was her bad luck that she hadn’t been able to distinguish between love and lust. I felt sad for her.
Aditya, by now had been able to sneak out of the rehab as if he had been accustomed to this habit. Nobody knew his whereabouts and when he was found he was lying dead under the ‘kalopul’ bridge as the insects were devouring his flesh. I hope he had a peaceful death. I watched his cremation in the Pashupati ghat. I had only tears to offer to him.
And now, I commemorate him with Ruslan Vodka and I feel his presence deep inside by heart as I go warmer inside, pegs after pegs. It seems he never left the world. And I feel his voice in my ears as he whispers’ his silly jokes and we both smile with lips wide open. It feels good to be drunk. And now I assert, it wasn’t the beauty that killed the beast it was the cruel world.