So... why drink? Good question (even if i do say so myself) but one that has no easy answers. My theory is that people drink because they are bored. And if anyone has been to a Delhi party, you know what i mean.
The three unspoken rules of a Delhi party are:
1) Do not, on pain of death, speak to anyone you haven't known for atleast ten years.
2) Do not, for fear of excommunication, introduce a stranger to your clique of friends.
3)Do rattle on non-stop about school picnic circa 1992, the deplorable parking in Khan Market and "the situation in Kashmir." When you notice people's eyes begin to glaze over, distract them with a witty comment.
(At this point i must mention that i love people from Bombay, especially the women. They are fun, witty, full of life and really know how to party. Delhi women, pls.... some lessons)
The evening starts decently enough.
People troop in with thir significant other, best friend, whatever, help themselves to a drink, find a suitable corner and then begin to stare. The men check the women out first, the women check out the men, then the men check out each other while their women look (enviously, pitifully, curiously) at other women.
When the staring competition is over the winners smirk, flip open their miniature cell phones and pretend to have sexy converstions while the loosers hit the bar to lick their wounds in silence. And then everybody turns to their partners and begins to talk.
But its not so simple:
Weather....done
Clothes....done
Job...done
Boys...done
Gossip...done
Everything that has to be said has already been said. Over. and Over. and Over. Ad nauseam.... To the Same people. For the last ten years.....Boring!(Ref: THE RULES)
It's at this point in the evening people proceed to drink themselves silly. Then they get very very drunk and do lots of very very stupid things that will make them squirm with embarrasement and hide in dark corridors for the rest of the year.
And suddenly voila! they're little lives are suddenly very dangerous and exciting.
So that's my theory: Bored+alchohol=exciting.
Also, when you're drunk you get away with a lot of things that would be considered unpardonable if you were sober. A bit like PMS.
Husband: You just nailed our pet dog to the living room table.
Wife: Don't ask, PMS.
Husband; oh, ok. (shrug)
Similarly, (except that we are not ALLOWED to drink in office!)
3:30 pm (Sober)
Snitch: Sir, Ms X is standing on her desk shouting racial slurs at all Bengali journalists.
Boss:(Heal-the-world type creature): Fire The Bitch!
3:30 am (Drunk)
Snitch: Sir, Ms X is standing on a table threatening to declare war on Bengal, kill all Bengali males and sell their wives and children into slavery.
Boss: Please don't disturb me, I'm a family man. I'm sleeping.
Snitch: But boss, its serious, ONLY YOU can do something.
Boss: (philosiphically) Has anyone ever managed to calm an angry sea, foretell the future or quieten a drunk woman?
On another note, our blog comptroller has been making angry faces and fuming under his collar because some of us have been writing "personal blogs." He has threatened to make me stand in the corner with my face towards the wall, if i don't mend my ways ASAP and write about serious stuff.
like strict school supervision at school picnics, parking problems in Khan Market and "the situation in Kashmir."
For that, I'll need another drink.
first published:December 25, 2005, 18:09 ISTlast updated:December 25, 2005, 18:09 IST
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There are hangovers and then there are hangovers and then there is the mother of all hangovers and she met me this morning. What began as a friendly X-mas toast ended with me waking up in severe agony, wishing i had never been born.
So... why drink? Good question (even if i do say so myself) but one that has no easy answers. My theory is that people drink because they are bored. And if anyone has been to a Delhi party, you know what i mean.
The three unspoken rules of a Delhi party are:
1) Do not, on pain of death, speak to anyone you haven't known for atleast ten years.
2) Do not, for fear of excommunication, introduce a stranger to your clique of friends.
3)Do rattle on non-stop about school picnic circa 1992, the deplorable parking in Khan Market and "the situation in Kashmir." When you notice people's eyes begin to glaze over, distract them with a witty comment.
(At this point i must mention that i love people from Bombay, especially the women. They are fun, witty, full of life and really know how to party. Delhi women, pls.... some lessons)
The evening starts decently enough.
People troop in with thir significant other, best friend, whatever, help themselves to a drink, find a suitable corner and then begin to stare. The men check the women out first, the women check out the men, then the men check out each other while their women look (enviously, pitifully, curiously) at other women.
When the staring competition is over the winners smirk, flip open their miniature cell phones and pretend to have sexy converstions while the loosers hit the bar to lick their wounds in silence. And then everybody turns to their partners and begins to talk.
But its not so simple:
Weather....done
Clothes....done
Job...done
Boys...done
Gossip...done
Everything that has to be said has already been said. Over. and Over. and Over. Ad nauseam.... To the Same people. For the last ten years.....Boring!(Ref: THE RULES)
It's at this point in the evening people proceed to drink themselves silly. Then they get very very drunk and do lots of very very stupid things that will make them squirm with embarrasement and hide in dark corridors for the rest of the year.
And suddenly voila! they're little lives are suddenly very dangerous and exciting.
So that's my theory: Bored+alchohol=exciting.
Also, when you're drunk you get away with a lot of things that would be considered unpardonable if you were sober. A bit like PMS.
Husband: You just nailed our pet dog to the living room table.
Wife: Don't ask, PMS.
Husband; oh, ok. (shrug)
Similarly, (except that we are not ALLOWED to drink in office!)
3:30 pm (Sober)
Snitch: Sir, Ms X is standing on her desk shouting racial slurs at all Bengali journalists.
Boss:(Heal-the-world type creature): Fire The Bitch!
3:30 am (Drunk)
Snitch: Sir, Ms X is standing on a table threatening to declare war on Bengal, kill all Bengali males and sell their wives and children into slavery.
Boss: Please don't disturb me, I'm a family man. I'm sleeping.
Snitch: But boss, its serious, ONLY YOU can do something.
Boss: (philosiphically) Has anyone ever managed to calm an angry sea, foretell the future or quieten a drunk woman?
On another note, our blog comptroller has been making angry faces and fuming under his collar because some of us have been writing "personal blogs." He has threatened to make me stand in the corner with my face towards the wall, if i don't mend my ways ASAP and write about serious stuff.
like strict school supervision at school picnics, parking problems in Khan Market and "the situation in Kashmir."
For that, I'll need another drink.
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