said Patrick.
Immediately Terence gathered mental visuals of smoke and some good high spirited conversations. Nostalgia hits you when your mind races through thoughts of the glorious days that have gone by faster than a high-rise building jump. There was a time when they would fly higher than the weather and there was also a time when they would spend nights dancing on no music. But probably, the times were over and Terence suspected that he was growing old. Speaking of which, Terence recalled something that a wise-crack once wrote on the last desk during his 1st year at college-
“Growing old is mandatory; Growing up is optional”.
Just like a pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, the parties they had had been on the lines of 1976, pissing on the border or Kashmir as a barb wired state. Barb Wire reminded the boys of Pamela Anderson and she reminded them of Borat who further reminded them of the Borat conversation they'd have on multiple networking sites. Therefore, almost any brain storming session reminded them of college life. So be it, assume that college is going to be inseparable for some years.
That night, Terence faintly remembered talking to the guard at the Vasant Vihar house. The gentleman thought like we did and asked how many attractive women would be coming. Hitesh told him not to learn to fly as that was his department. Minutes later, all of them were inside the house. The party hosted 15 young individuals who had just stepped into the harsh world of insanity. It started well with people laughing on some imported dope and hunter beer. Then towards midnight, things turned funny. Terence was on the comfortable couch, watching people and collecting thoughts. He suddenly “saw” Hitesh telling someone that he had shaved off his head because his hair was blocking the intellectual thoughts that was trying to enter his skull.
Initially, it was strange for Terence and Vincent as they were sitting in a room full of people who had 'bright future' stamped on their foreheads. These were people from reputed institutions and the two were two people from broken illusions. For the record, Terence and Vincent are in a 'oh fuck' zone, not the 'fucked' situation and pray, till next year this time, if they don’t make any progress then they’d be presidents of the 'fucked' zone.
Anyway, like some jackass said- 'The show must go on'. Vincent was in full swing towards the last quarter of the party. Chatting away to glory like a baboon who needed a banana. By the way, Hitesh was still blabbering his heart out to his newly-found psychiatrist who threw up nearly 76 times. The fact of the matter is simple; Sir Vincent’s joy knew no boundaries as he started transcendental post structuralist existentialism with 9 members of the party who belonged to the female fraternity.
Patrick and Monica were arguing who’d have the next joint and Terence was in a sad state after taking a few joints because it hit, it hit. Meanwhile, Hitesh was still pouring his heart out and Vincent was still scoring points. When it rains more than ever, that’s when you’ll know who holds the umbrella for you.
This party really reminded few of us of the old times. Like Woodstock 69, guess we’ll all drift away but it will still be remembered. The Gurgaon 36 hour fest, the north campus romps, the royalty pub visits, the hallucinations and the many blah blah blehs.
Immediately Terence gathered mental visuals of smoke and some good high spirited conversations. Nostalgia hits you when your mind races through thoughts of the glorious days that have gone by faster than a high-rise building jump. There was a time when they would fly higher than the weather and there was also a time when they would spend nights dancing on no music. But probably, the times were over and Terence suspected that he was growing old. Speaking of which, Terence recalled something that a wise-crack once wrote on the last desk during his 1st year at college-
“Growing old is mandatory; Growing up is optional”.
Just like a pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, the parties they had had been on the lines of 1976, pissing on the border or Kashmir as a barb wired state. Barb Wire reminded the boys of Pamela Anderson and she reminded them of Borat who further reminded them of the Borat conversation they'd have on multiple networking sites. Therefore, almost any brain storming session reminded them of college life. So be it, assume that college is going to be inseparable for some years.
That night, Terence faintly remembered talking to the guard at the Vasant Vihar house. The gentleman thought like we did and asked how many attractive women would be coming. Hitesh told him not to learn to fly as that was his department. Minutes later, all of them were inside the house. The party hosted 15 young individuals who had just stepped into the harsh world of insanity. It started well with people laughing on some imported dope and hunter beer. Then towards midnight, things turned funny. Terence was on the comfortable couch, watching people and collecting thoughts. He suddenly “saw” Hitesh telling someone that he had shaved off his head because his hair was blocking the intellectual thoughts that was trying to enter his skull.
Initially, it was strange for Terence and Vincent as they were sitting in a room full of people who had 'bright future' stamped on their foreheads. These were people from reputed institutions and the two were two people from broken illusions. For the record, Terence and Vincent are in a 'oh fuck' zone, not the 'fucked' situation and pray, till next year this time, if they don’t make any progress then they’d be presidents of the 'fucked' zone.
Anyway, like some jackass said- 'The show must go on'. Vincent was in full swing towards the last quarter of the party. Chatting away to glory like a baboon who needed a banana. By the way, Hitesh was still blabbering his heart out to his newly-found psychiatrist who threw up nearly 76 times. The fact of the matter is simple; Sir Vincent’s joy knew no boundaries as he started transcendental post structuralist existentialism with 9 members of the party who belonged to the female fraternity.
Patrick and Monica were arguing who’d have the next joint and Terence was in a sad state after taking a few joints because it hit, it hit. Meanwhile, Hitesh was still pouring his heart out and Vincent was still scoring points. When it rains more than ever, that’s when you’ll know who holds the umbrella for you.
This party really reminded few of us of the old times. Like Woodstock 69, guess we’ll all drift away but it will still be remembered. The Gurgaon 36 hour fest, the north campus romps, the royalty pub visits, the hallucinations and the many blah blah blehs.
1 comment:
CHEERS!!!!!!!!!
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