The spirit of friendship

I was startled by the heavy banging on my door last night. I woke up from my deep slumber with a shock. My mind rebooted to reality. It wasn’t part of a dream. I could hear people chattering outside the door. I heard the slams and someone yelling out my name. As I unlatched the door, it swing open and four guys charged in like wilder beasts and I was the poor gazelle unfortunate enough to be on their path of destruction. They pounced on me knocking me over. Then ensued a rapid fire question session coupled with man handling. My colleagues were drunk beyond conscious control. Thankfully I got out scratch-free. Taking pictures of them playing football at 12 in the night and creating a comic scene with people piled one over the other on limited number of chairs in the dining hall just made my day.
The next few hours took me back to a time when life was free of tension. No responsibilities. The time was in our hands and the decisions to be made could always wait for tomorrow. Everyone you wanted to be with was just a door or a call away. Just the thought put a smile across my face. But what really caught my attention was that alcohol was involved in almost all the moments I could recall. It centered around some booze party or someone being drunk beyond his senses and puking all over the place. Has booze really become such an integral part in friendship?
The way I see it, being comfortable enough to booze with someone and losing control over ones inhibitions, spilling out ones darkest secrets is the utmost act of trust. Maybe alcohol is the catalyst which triggers it all or maybe it is the glue that holds it up.
The deepest of thoughts, the sincerest of emotions and the most touching of gestures are on the backdrop of a spirit rain.
I remember the person who drank for the very first time and delivered a 7-hour long sermon which would have put Vivenkanda to shame.
I remember the person who guzzled bottles of beer and ran like a dog in the middle of the state highway.
I remember the person who had a lil too many drinks and puked his guts out from the top of the terrace.
I remember the person who crawled up like a shrimp on the seat of mechatronics lab cos he was too drunk to walk.
I remember the person who kept threatening to hit the girls in the class but ended up hitting me half a dozen times.
I remember the person who laughed like a madman cos he couldn’t help himself from not doing it.
I remember the person who reminisced on the good old times with his girl cos he couldn’t keep those feelings bottled up inside.
I remember the person who opened up about his insecurities releasing those malevolent spirits.
I remember the person who drank so much that his abnormally large liver shrunk into a normal sized one.
I remember the person who peed in front of the Head of Department’s office just to prove a point.

So, the next time someone drunk calls you at 4 in the morning, remember that when his thoughts were clear you were the only one whom he saw and the only one with whom he wanted to share the moment with. So if you are the fortunate one to get my call in the days to come, pick up. Rejoice, for you are remembered.