Resolutions And Wishlists :)

There were quite some sights to behold last night:

1. Mom, who prides on being a teetotaler and frowns when I even think of alcohol,Β  nursing a mug of chilled beer and ‘Cheers’ing everyone in the room!

2. The great-grandmom of the family dancing to Elvis Presley’s “A Little Less Conversation”!

3. Uncles and aunties enacting skits and acting like kids!

4. Overflowing beer!

5. Four people trying to force open the cork of a wine bottle, without a cork-opener, and managing toΒ  break the cork into tiny pieces that fell into the wine!

6. Turning around in circles with a confused look because I was drunk and I couldn’t find the bottle of scotch!

7. Calling up friends and singing Nickelback songs while standing in the middle of the road!

8. Scrambling for money to fulfill the last-minute orders for booze in the packed wine store!

… and other memorable sweet nothings marked the end of 2008 and brought in the new year with much anticipated revelry, fireworks and a collected sigh of relief. It was something that everyone needed, I guess – a break. It was a fantastic start to the new year when I closed my eyes at 2 in the morning, drunk, expecting a major hangover and with a contented sigh on my lips.

)
Resolutions, Wishlists, Hopes And Fears πŸ™‚

Once upon a time (2 days ago) Apar had asked me for my resolutions and I had deftly deferred (adamantly refused) the issue until the year actually begins. Now that it has, I can avoid it no more. Through my hungover haze, I thought about it and realized that there are quite a few things that I’d want to do this year – resolutions and wishes – and I made a rudimentary list. I began prioritizing them all, and here’s the final result:

    • I want to smile more this year, irrespective of the situation. I want to be able to convince myself that punching myself in the face while asleep is not worth losing a smile.
    • I want to make sure that I think seriously about making a resolution to consider the possibility of a faint chance of quitting smoking.
    • I want to get the two books in the pipeline out this year, come what may.
    • I wish this year has some surprises in store for me, because all 2008 had to offer was one heartbreak after another.
    • In the same vein, I hope to find true love, clichΓ©d as it may sound. I’m tired of one-off dates and two-week affairs and one-month ‘girlfriends’. Sigh!
    • I want to go to France.
    • I want to succeed in organizing an All India Bloggers’ Meet in Gokarna this year – it started out as a South India Bloggers’ Meet, but I decided that Gokarna is too beautiful a place to make anyone jealous!
    • I want to feel like God – I want to buy an Avenger!
    • I wish I can convince myself to start working out again – running for 40 minutes a day isn’t enough. I want to pump iron again!
    • I wish I could sleep for 16 hours a day and laze around in bed for the other 8.
    • I’m going to booze more often and get drunk less often.
    • I wish I could wish for more wishes.
    • I wish I could make others feel better.
    • I wish people can live in peace without having to kill for it.
    • I wish I could make at least one person happy per day.
    • I wish I can grow a year old and look back at myself with pride for having accomplished at least one of the above.

Have a great year everyone! It’s been one hell of a journey, isn’t it? πŸ˜€

A Man’s Best Friend…

… is not a dog, to put a common misconception to rest. It is, on the contrary, a very nicely-blended mix of scotch and soda, with lots of ice. πŸ˜€

I had been to a cocktail-dinner party last night at a seedy pub in a city, which had seen better days and the food left a lot to be desired. I wasn’t dressed appropriately, I had a bad headache, I had no intentions/interest/inclination/mood to attend the party, and yet, I had to go to fulfill certain commitments. Sigh, it’s been such a sad week so far, a week in which I reached a few decisions that I hope are the right ones and avoided a few more than I hope to avoid all my life! πŸ˜€

So, anyway, let me not get sidetracked. I’ll come back to the seedy dinner party last night, where I was sitting around, watching the horny cameramen take snaps of those vile and vulgar Page 3 crowd, and thought to myself, “Nikhil, you’re here, amidst a bevy of apparently hot chicks and over-fed, rich men and you’re wearing a dirty white shirt with sweat stains on the sleeves, a pair of trousers that are frayed around every corner and some weirdly horrifying pair of floaters – what’re you missing?”

Pat came the reply – a drink! πŸ˜€

I made my way to the crowded bar, where they were giving away free drinks, and I got myself a scotch and soda, and sat back and enjoyed the fake smiles around me. I watched the facade as a couple of dumb publicity hounder chicks in short skirts come up to me and say, “Hey, you are from…?”

I looked at them and said, “No, I am Nikhil,” and gave them my best I’m-not-interested smile.

They got the message and stopped following me around. Every room I entered in that pub, the terribly omnipresent Page 3 crowd was busy hugging complete strangers and getting their photo taken. And the photographers from these cheesy tabloids couldn’t get enough of them! “Get a room,” I wanted to scream out, when I realized that they had!! πŸ˜€

Anyway, I came back home around midnight from the party, and the only faithful companion throughout the party was my ever-present glass of scotch and soda. And when on my way back through the hauntingly empty streets of the city at midnight, a pair of dogs chased me, barking their lungs out, for almost two kilometers and that was when I decided that a man’s best friend is not really a dog. Dogs tend to change loyalties the minute someone offers them a juicier bone.

In a way, street dogs and those Page 3 photographers are similar – one is a filthy cross-breed that lurks the streets of town searching for a juicy ‘bone,’ and the other is a street dog! πŸ˜€

(Yikes!! Too vulgar?) πŸ˜€

Image Courtesy: Soumik
(Sourced from Google Image Results. I do not know this person!)

20,000 hits in 5 months! :)

Yay! Time to celebrate!

I would like to thank each and every one of you who have read my blog, commented and made this wonderful thing possible! Crossing 20,000 hits in the fifth month of this blog’s conception is just too good to be true. I almost want to celebrate now, rip my shirt off, whirl it in the air and cry, “Yippee!” out loud, but the fear of crossing the line of decency and losing my job. πŸ˜€

Thank you all for making me smile on a mundane Monday morning! πŸ˜€

Cheers to all!

Hangover!

For almost three minutes after I opened my eyes, I didn’t know where I was. I was confused and my head was spinning. I looked around me and didn’t recognize the room where I was sleeping. My arms and legs felt strangely numb and there was a strange metallic taste in my mouth. I realized I was thirsty. Extremely thirsty. The morning light was seeping through the curtains and I could see a bottle next to my bed. I drank the water and felt a bit better. The headache reduced a notch, but was still persistent enough to make me nauseous. Then, slowly and intricately, I began to recollect the events of last night.

I had driven up to my friend’s place at around nine in the night and we had been thrilled at the seeing each other again after a long time. He was still working in the same company where I had been and where I had met him a year and a half ago. We reminisced about old times and decided to drink to our good health.

“Just one beer,” I said. “No more.”

“Sure, buddy,” he said.

One beer, two beers and three vodkas later, I was numb and ready to pass out. I’ve never been drunk in my life before, and this was the closest I could come. We ate egg curry at two in the morning and promptly fell asleep in a drunken stupor.

My first hangover and my best one yet – the whole day passed by in a haze and in slow motion. Around evening, the headaches finally stopped and it felt good. I vowed never to get hung over again. There’re a couple of parties lined up this week. I wonder… πŸ˜€