The uncool factor
Since moving north, i’ve met a friend of a friend thrice. During all the three occasions, i had to introduce myself. Odd as that may sound, it’s just one of those things that happens at a party nowanights. You go and meet people, make small talks and sometimes big conversations, crack lame jokes, contribute to a controversial discussion, tweet if it gets shamefully boring, have fun and sometimes food, only to return home closer to midnight. A rather enjoyable ritual for those who haven’t figured out how to escape it without a scratch.
The only problem with this setting is, being averse to alcohol makes things worse for you. You can’t be one of them if you don’t drink. In fact, you’ll remain a pariah with OJ in the crowd. But then, it’s not your fault. It’s not their fault either. However, you don’t get to be a member of the club until you behave accordingly. You’re basically a spy voyeuring others as they start losing themselves and exhibiting a shade of their personality that never greets the sunlight otherwise. Worse still, your prudery makes you a tourist. And a minority.
Consequentially, they will probe you because they are curious to stumble upon a species who doesn’t do things they assume everybody does. Questions like “Why don’t you drink?” shall befell you whereas you won’t gather the temerity to ask them “Why do you drink?” My dad has a drinking problem, what’s your excuse? Never mind. Some of them might even push the buttons by goading you to break your alcohol virginity. They so badly want to initiate you into their sphere. Happens. Regardless, they don’t mean harm as such. They are not conspiring to get you cirrhosis or anything. Just that it’s a bit awkward to be in a room where everybody isn’t on the same alcohol-soaked page.
I understand.
What i don’t understand is the factor behind this cultural pressure on youth to fiddle with booze. Words of abstinence never sound nice from a teetotaler’s mouth, yes, but it’s worth wondering how some beverages outran everybody else in the race to party. If you break down the contributing constituents, it’s hard to miss the overwhelming Western influence here. Of course, the world as we know it today is heavily indebted to European prowess from the past as well as the present. Nobody can beat the influence overnight. What’s intriguing, to me at least, is the banal oversight in understanding what’s going on. The desire to emulate the West, what is depicted via cinema, is so intense that there’s no place for reckoning. Perhaps. Nobody asks. Nobody tells. Unless it’s too late and somebody has choked on his vomit in the bathroom or destroyed more than one life at a time. Forget sex education, booze education ought to be made compulsory in our education system.
Well, well. Please don’t spoil the party, me spoilsport! Let’s stick to pretending that we are having an amazing time in this smoky loud room, where people have to sneak off to the balcony to hold a sensible chat. The world is atrocious and stressful as it is. What’s wrong in avoiding the mundane trauma of life? Fair enough.
Going back to the friend of the friend mentioned earlier, the reason he couldn’t remember me as sharply as i remembered him each time has something to do with how high he was or was going to get that night. It’s a strange situation for a teetotaler to be in. You are sober and alert and if you are me, you talk like there’s nothing else better to do. I avoid talking to a large extent but if i connect with someone on something, then there is no looking back. Within an hour, i’ve bonded with that person. The plot twist takes place when we meet at a party again. He doesn’t remember me, let alone the lengthy discussions we had on human nature and how swearing played a key role in the spread of language and what will happen once the oil-rich countries run out of oil and so on.
Cipher. Nada. Shunya. Zilch.
He smiles as if we are meeting for the first time albeit it’s been months. This is similar to us committing a murder together but only one of us has the memory the next morning. My response? Let’s do this all over again.
