untimely rains in mumbai

 

It is raining here today. On a Sunday in April. I remember what my ex told me about me loving things from afar, and how that impacts my then-relationship with her. I don't know if my attachment pattern is loving things while being away. I love equally when I'm close and equally when I'm far. I don't see my friends having a problem with me when I'm away but when I'm sitting next to K or M; I hear them talk about our other friends, I only see them looking at them as cheap entertainment from a former friendship. I know no one is as close as before. And tbh, maybe most of them never were. Maybe it is all in my head where I saw a great blooming friendship amongst nineteen people and thought 'Oh this is my WE CAN A GIANT ASS GROUP moment!'

I don't think connections are fake. There are a certain times when I need to pretend that some things are better from up-close even when I see them as ugly. Yesterday was filled with character moments I'd rather forget than like to remember. Like K bitching about Sachi's stinginess and moaned about him being a miser. Or M fighting Sachi over marks. Snide remarks at Reuben to forget Her. He didn't know what he was doing anyway. I'm somehow glad that we won't remember a lot of it. 

I checked my body for bruises and scars after my morning shower. The rain hit its chorus. A cut on the back of my hand from Coca Cola's paws. Broken knuckles from punching the wall. Thrice. A scratch on my shoulder. Probably from brawling with six people on a Queen size bed. We bought whiskey 'Imperial Blue' 1 liter KHAMBA. Because Raghav was fed up with Old monk. Upon my calling to inform him of our latest acquisition. He called it 'The Worst Whiskey Cheap Money Could Buy'. I said fuck him. We chugged two glasses of whiskey and coke. I don't think it hit me till about an hour of the chugs. Battle of the Rouges. I don't know what got into Kevin. I feel like he was happy though. Even if he didn't say it.

The last of the whiskey remained two shots. Which me and Indra finished. My stomach couldn't handle the sudden surge of burning petroleum. I don't know what happened. I felt like I blacked out for a minute and woke up puking in the bathroom. That's when I regained consciousness. Washing my hands. Feeling the puke come up. Puking in the toilet. I went through this motion four times. Washing hands. Puking. Washing hands. Puking. I let out an entire cheap batch of 90-rupee Egg Biryani. I was sobered up. I came out a bit dizzy headed. Then cleaned the room with Dettol and a baby pink towel. Sachi offered to help but I don't like others cleaning my messes. I told him to lie down because he had had a lot to drink as well. I feel he sobered up quite a bit watching me puke across his tenancy; while walking to the bathroom because I couldn't hold it in. There was puke next to the drying clothes by the window. On the bathroom door. On the bathroom floor. My socks. My black banyan. And my trousers. I cleaned it in the same order as I mentioned them above. I threw my socks across the bathroom into the room and then Raghav came home. 

I think he had seen this bit of debauchery before. But this was unlike that. People were unclothed. Trying to fuck each other. Men will be men. Imperial Blue advert was running in my head. I watched Kevin and Raghav smoke a cigarette before buying another half a liter of Old Monk (which Raghav said he was tired of not to forget) and he called Eric home. He was getting weed. Like an old talk I had had with Indra, everyone is destroying themselves in some ways or the other. Every one has a sin. One of the seven deadly sins. Tonight, ours was Sloth and Gluttony. I drank beside Raghav even though my stomach wasn't as accepting of the Rum as it had done the Whiskey. I let Reuben have it from my cup. I think he didn't mind it. I didn't want him to bugger off and puke either. So I kept forcing myself to finish up. To get the hit but I didn't get another hit. 

Eric bought his friend Umar from Chennai. But upon this visit everyone turned a bit versatile. More swearing at each other. Rabid dogs. For a moment I felt as though Sachi and Kevin were making out. The blunt-making procedure was going to take about 15-20 minutes. Root removal since it causes ED and lessens the high. I think my drag was the longest. I even burnt my lips from it. A bit of my tongue as well. There wasn't any cough like the movies. I don't know it seemed so surreal. I don't know if this was how Bukowski or Kerouac felt while writing but I think if I had half a brain worth of ideas to write about then, I'd have produced some of my best work. But I was so caught up in dynamics and politics that I barely was paying attention to the art I possessed within myself. I think the next time I get drunk, I'll carry a small notebook and begin writing a story. I need the debauchery sometimes. Just to live a bit out of my own head, so I can see things more clearly. I am clear now. I need to study.