LIQUORIFIED

LIQUORIFIED

[This is purely an act of fiction. Names, characters, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Content designed may provide helpful information on the subjects discussed along with presentations/illustrations for highlighting the plight of an aggrieved. The author assumes no liabilities of any kind with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents. Any resemblance to persons living or dead may be purely coincidental]

With credits to Bibhash Chandra Tripathi

Money at hand was scarce in the days that we spent in college. But that wasn't a deterrent when it came to go on a drinking binge with batchmates. After all, it was our four years at stake to build and establish ourselves. The timespan was huge, little we realised that we had to appear in six challenging subjects per semester. While many reign supreme this day in various organisations worldwide, the days spent in the college were never forgotten.

The toughest part, that all shudder to think till date, were the semester exams. Most of us knew that we had to carry the burden of a subject or two or even more to the next year. The system of reappearing for any compartmental examination was that, one could appear in that subject with his or her juniors, when it was their turn. So the grueling and gruesome wait was painful, set aside the shame of appearing for the subject with the juniors surrounding you. But then, after a few such bouts, all shed their inhibitions.

Alcohol has been a major source of both pleasure in misery for us, like most across the world. While the pleasure was all over drinks was that frustrations were vented out with lewd curses overflowing that knew no barrier, the farcical incidents of disasters, after getting bowled over by alcohol, were quiet and untold to uphold one's integrity. But then, few incidents were ballooned out of proportions to form humour that is still remembered purely meant to induce laughter and pull one's legs. The effects of alcohol set the perfect pretext for snorting with laughter with ambiguous comic utterances. Comedy, evoked by scenarios of surprise, exaggeration, disproportion, shared awkward experiences, surrealism, irony, mockery, pun, or defiance were the moments that infused satire in a drunkard’s words. Sabhyata or moral education, cultural background and the goodness of civility used to take a back seat. The war of curses, one exhibiting exclusivity over the other, some invented in that pixilated state, were not debated the next morning but cherished life long. Euphoriant effects kept us beguiled knowing very well that it was temporary and that, once the effect of alcohol was over, it would again be back to square one. Those who we used to call kobiraajs thought the likes of us as stupid and canny and would wryly concede the extremes of unbalance displayed by many.

Raavan's Den was a regular for binge hitters. All types of cheap alcohol were available that were a rage amongst us. The belief was a firm that liquor removes all embellishments and reveals only the truth, however loving, remorseful, or sardonic.

The college still has one of the most spectacular of campuses that I have visited countrywide. Proud to have studied in such a picturesque college surrounded by ponds and hillocks and, our hostels were about a mile away from the Den. Enthusiasm overtook all drudgery and the journey to Raavan's was an enjoyable one despite the strained pockets. Seeing his soaring business, Raavan imported his brother, who we called Maamu, into the business. While the brothers sold grocery in the front, it was the Den at the rear. There were benches and running tables. The glasses were the ones that is found in tea stalls. The camouflage was gunny bags stuck to bamboo poles with GI wire. At a point in the corner was an opening from where one could pee gleefully into the adjacent pond or water-body with not much water in it except during the floods when it would be to its brim.

Semesters began, and the boys had just come back from home, refreshed with good food and handsome pocket money that the parents had shelled out for their lads who were going for another battle of complex and intriguing course. The den was crowded one evening with intensified voices of drunks. Many had been there to get rid of homesickness. Five of us managed to squeeze on to a bench and ordered whiskey. Full bottle of 750 ml. Bagpiper was all that we could afford by pooling in, that cost more or less than 200 rupees, those days. The five of us slowly got nauseated and realised that liquor was taking charge. The flow of alcohol was directly proportional to the levels of discussions and the decibel. But all wanted more. After scavenging all pockets, all we could afford was half a bottle of another cheap whiskey that I don't remember. After that too was over till the last drop, suddenly found that there was ample space on the bench.

We were four now to our horror! Where did the fifth go? Everyone was aware of ghosts in the campus. This is not an iota of exaggeration at all. Saw Raavan and Maamu rushing inside. He was shouting “paani mein koi gir gaya hai”. One among us toppled and fell backwards, directly into the water body behind. All in the den, in their drunken stupor, got up with many barely able to stand properly throwing the bench and table unable to keep balance. A man count began to ascertain who it was before rushing to help fish out the poor guy. The pool wasn't that deep and we all struggled to pull the guy out, after many slipping into it. A slip, a slur, a misstep, all these were part of the rescue strategy. Sludge and mush all over, the stench unbearable, we could slowly make it to the hostel, wash ourselves and hit the sack for good. The effects of alcohol was all lost. All precious money spent went to the pond. The blackout was truly liquorified! The entailed bawdiness, silly visuals, drunkenness and physical humour, is enjoyed by everyone till this day.