A million pegs hence, a recollect those which made a difference.
The Drunkard in Tirupattur---I was raised in a Brahmin family. I went to study engineering to south India. The rest is, as the cliche goes, history. My first peg was raised in the summers of 2003 in a defunct, non electrified town. I was very well able to recollect the date, but sadly the pegs that followed dishonoured my sense of memory. That day I
embarked on a journey which saw me make a lot new friends and lose many old ones. Some of the most important decisions of my life later came when the public told me "I was not in a state". Some of the decisions made were as follows:- To apply for a management entrance test, to get into the first physical fight, to get out of that relatonship, to start blogging, to start stop worrying.
The Drunkard in Ahmedabad---Parents, never leave house unguarded if you have a 21 year old son at home. He will do one of the following things--Watch porn, bring his "girl" friend home, drink till everyone in the society knows how many pegs he has had or do nothing, the last being a shame for any family which has borne a male child. We did the second last and what a shame I bought home!!! The society aunties look at me like a outcast, the uncles refer to their child as a "well mannered boy" during their interaction with my parents, the girls come home rushing on rakshabandhan and the sons look at a ball tossed into my premises as a "asset lost forever". Curd was forced down our throats in a quest to gouse the monster. A incense stick waved in our bathrooms to fend off smell of puke and piss. We have never had another peg in my home since. I regret that.Only that.
The Drunkard in Harihar--- A mangement program then was what i could ever have wished for. Entering the premises I was one who had "one too many pegs" on some ocassions. Leaving that premises i was one, who had "one too many pegs and hence started drinking" -kinda guy.(Forgive the exaggeration). A daily chore by then, drinking came unnaturally.Too natural to be natural,that is. Surrounded by friends who supported my mind till the last peg and supported my body thereafter, stood no reason for me to not get drunk. I was a fucking wall then, save physical fights, for un-managerial they were termed. Those last pegs when a dear friend was to leave the premises with 5 men in a room who strongly believed rome could be destroyed and re-built in a day, is a peg i will always crave for. The scream after those bottles came from the soul, not from the throat.One resounding scream that made us believe we were undefetable. And unseperable. A man who could never get old was born. A man who could differ, never survived.(Forgive the exaggeration once again for I have not found a guy who would differ. If i find one, he will not survive)
The Drunkard In Goa---She, A Bottle of Black Dog and a Me, blacker dog, drinking it. Some instances are not for the public eye. This is one of them.
The tales that shall follow shall be devoid of this zeal. The pegs that follow shall never have the same men on the table. I regret this time passed. I regret, i did not realize, how important these pegs were while I was consuming them. I realize, i am no longer a student.I realize, I now have to "Earn" those moments.
P.S---I am Drunk. Alone. Desolate. Not destroyed, whatsoever! To the spirit of man, I raise a toast. Cheers !