In fact, I was reasonably confident that tonight was going to be a night like no other. The real fun of any indulgence comes after depriving yourself of it and then soaking in the feeling all of a sudden. I had restrained myself for a full thirty days and I couldn't control myself any longer to touch my lips to the whisky glass, feel the thumping music and ogle at the girls in the minis.
I reached Running Water at around 11 in the night and parked the bike in the reserved area opposite a small paan-beedishop. For a moment, I guffawed looking at the Bihari paanwaalah and wondered about the decision to allow such a petty shop to operate in front of one of the most happening clubs in the city. I noticed the paanwaalah looking at me and smiling in a display of his redstained teeth. I ignored the idiot and called up Jigar, waiting to abuse him for not being on the assigned spot at the given time. Usually the practice of coming in late was reserved for me but post these thirty days of abstinence, I could not even think of doing that crime. The bell rang at the other end but Jigar didn't answer my call. I tried again. Same thing.
In the next half an hour, I tried his number around forty times and only once did I receive a response and that too from the mechanical voice informing me that the number was unavailable. Jigar did not answer the rings, nor did he return the call.
I had just dumped the cell phone into my pocket when the skies opened up and thick droplets of rain drenched me in no time. My jacket had no hood and I never carried an umbrella, so I did the only sensible thing and entered the pub.
“To hell with Jigar, let him come. Will teach him a lesson in waiting,” I said out aloud to no one in particular and proceeded to the door. The tall bouncer barricading my entry, stamped my wrist with the pub's stag signature after I had paid the cover charge. The first thing that hit me about the place was the ambience, there was dark written all over it. Pubs are supposed to be dark but this place was almost black. Even the walls were painted black with some obscure fluorescent designs that seemed to fill the place with a strange glow. The place was packed with people letting themselves loose on a weekend night. The music was hurting my ears in a pleasure through pain sort of manner. I guessed it must be the effect of coming back to such loud exposure after long. Instinctively, my body started to move to the rhythm and my head bounced to the beats.
The Other Side
125 I decided to reserve my moves for later and walked over to the inviting scene of the bar in the far left corner. Pushing and shoving half-naked bodies aside, I grabbed a circular table towards the end and wheeled around fancifully.
“One vodka, shaken, not stirred,” I shouted to the bald bartender with piercings. He eyed me in a weird manner before I winked at him and added, “Regular Smirnoff, man!” He displayed his teeth and nodded in approval.
A couple of minutes later, I tasted relief and sighed, arching my head backwards.
“One more,” I ordered and repeated the same at an interval of five minutes. Four shots later, I shook my head as if in a daze. I could pretty much hold my senses even after six but I had been out of practice for some days so I decided to halt for some time. I walked to the loo to relieve myself, my body still shaking to the music. I was hoping Jigar would come soon so that we could get down to cracking jokes and laughing at stupid things. I dialed his number but the fool still didn't respond. I was sure he had drunk too much and fallen asleep on the couch before leaving for the pub.
I thought I would drown one last drink and made my way to my seat. To my surprise, it was occupied by a lady.
“Excuse me, that's my seat,” I said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.
She either did not hear me or pretended not to.
“Lady, that's my seat you've taken,” I shouted over the din.
She turned her head to look at me. I heaved a deep sigh of appreciation. Even in the darkness, I could tell she was beautiful beyond description. Her eyes made me falter for a moment. Silently, she pointed to the seat to her left, the last seat was empty and hidden from view and in my drunken walk, I had not noticed.
“Oh sorry,” I apologized and climbed on the revolving disc of the chair.
She did not reply but went back to staring down, looking lost in her thoughts. I checked her out in detail. Till then, I had just been looking at her face but the moment I soaked in her attire, I suppressed a threatening bout of laughter. The girl was young and beautiful but she was wearing a salwar-suit covering all her skin almost. I wondered whether I had seen any girl dressed like this in the countless pubs I had visited. The answer was a convincing NO. Shaking my head and stifling a chuckle, I turned to look at her face and then the second surprise registered.