Tushar Tarun alias Tutu alias Thoku alias Shaktimaan turned 23 on 1st of April (Fool's day). On this ocassion the 'b'day boy' treated me, Tagore, Abhishek (since he doesn't read my blog anyway I guess I could have used his nickname Lollon), Babua and Munna at SBX, Gopalan Mall on the night of March 31. The main attraction of this gathering was undoubtedly Lollon's antics- how I wish I could upload a video showing how he inimitably twisted his index finger and said, "Abhas, yaar ek question". What was meant to be my brain-washing and perhaps leg-pulling session soon turned out to be 'dragging' and 'threatening' session with Lolu virtually dragging everyone who dared to venture out of thie vicinity of the table back to their place and threatening to break open a bottle on the head of anyone who dared to interrupt him in course of his sermon about the virtues of 'alcohol consumption'. How could Tutu be far behind, he joined Lollon in launching a barrage of allegations against me - for not living my life to the fullest (read, quitting consumption of alcoholic beverages), for living in a state of self-denial, for losing my individuality and thereby leading the life of a pensioner when I was hardly 23. For the first time in my life I felt I could give these Jain monks and ascetics a run for their money if only I continued to live in the same state of self-denial for a few more years. Then began a poetic illustration and elaboration of 'my principles' by Lollon. At this juncture it struck me- I had perhaps heard a similar description in the movie Dharmadhikari wherein Jitendra accuses his father (played by Dilip Kumar) of being a patthar ka insaan, neeti-vaan insaan. All this while, Lollon had been vehemently denying being under the spell of UB pitcher. This spell of patronising sermons was marked by Munna's attempts to mimic Tagore's pronunciation of k(h)ana and his short-lived visits (thanks to the zealous dragging by Lollon) to the table occupied by Madam S'kam who happened to be there alongwith Mr. S'kam himself. The party abruptly came to an end for me when I realised that the Rs. 300/- offer had indeed done wonders for Lollon, Munna and Tutu. By the time I could leave, Lollon had gulped few glasses of the stronger beverage which was being consumed by Tutu and Munna. Anyhow, I returned to the hostel with Babua. The next day I bunked off the last two hours and came back to the room. I noticed the door to Lollon's room was ajar and I went into his room. The brilliant orator of the last night was down with a nasty hangover and the first question he asked me was "..how did I reach the hostel last night?"- this from a person who was claiming not to be drunk at all and in a condition to ride his bike at 100. Perhaps I have been a bit too harsh on the chief victim of the irrestible Rs. 300/- offer, but then I had to choose a scapegoat to justify the title of this post.
