The Snarky Indian

Part 8(i): Vodka shots and telepathic conversations

 Aryan led me away from the dance floor and toward the bar. He sat me down on a backless bar stool and proceeded to sit in one himself, facing me. I was, well, embarrassed. Again. Every little thing embarrasses me, it's been that way forever. I've always had that itchy feeling that people only remember the embarrassing portions of my life and are probably going to hate me soon, because of said embarrassing moment.

 I had dipped my head down, mainly because I didn't know how I would react. I was always this sheltered girl who had never had an actual taste of the real world. It was as though my world was sugar-coated, with candy canes and ice-cream as far as the eye could see. I had never been in a situation that compromised my virtue, simply put, I was shielded from everything. Hell, I had to hide the fact that I was watching Game of Thrones from my parents! They would've kicked me out if they knew.

 We have a smartass in the house! *mental smirk*

 "You okay?" Asked the savior in front of me, the green-eyed one *mental squeal*. I dipped my head lower for a second, preparing myself, and then looked up to meet his eyes. I simple nodded and gave a tired smile. It was all I could manage, dancing takes a lot out of you. He simply nodded back and I came to the conclusion that this was, again, going to be awkward *high pitched tone*.

 But then, surprisingly, he started, "I suppose you're an engineer?" I looked at him curiously as I answered with an affirmative nod. "My mother keeps telling me stuff about the country. I hear it's either engineering or medical over there?"

 Now this was a topic I had ranted to a lot of people about. Yep, it was my comfort zone. Bitching about my country, so very patriotic.

 And so I began explaining with enthusiasm, complete with hand movements to emphasize my indignation. To his credit, he listened and nodded at all the right places. I told him about how we're all forced to take up either engineering or medical, how most of us end up doing just that, how people who choose to do something else are treated with scorn and so on. I even told him about this new video that went viral on YouTube. Anu Aunty, a sort of engineering anthem. It described the life of almost all undergrads in India. (A/N: Video to your right, laugh and share!)

 In exchange, he told me about his mother's obsession with the country. How, when he was young, his mother used to force them to stand straight and recite the Indian national anthem before school, the boring Hindi songs that his mom sang along with, and basically his exasperation with it all.

 Somewhere in between our conversation, we started a kind of drinking game. You finish a story, you down a shot. Toward the end, our conversation got slurred and we ended up just drinking. Well, actually, I claimed that we could continue our conversation telepathically and he agreed.

 Don’t judge us. We were trashed.

 When Viha came to find us, we were squinting intently at each other, or rather, telling each other stories telepathically. She stood looking at each of us alternatively, like she was witnessing a tennis match.

 I don’t remember much of what happened during or after that, I was, as they say, drunk as a poet on payday.

 I woke up late in the morning, around 10am, safe and sound in my bed. Okay, not entirely ‘sound’. I had a deliberating headache, it felt as though someone was repeatedly dropping sacks of rice on my poor, poor head.

 Viha came in, grinning broadly at me. That grin of hers made me feel extremely queasy, like she was plotting my demise. She came in with some cereal and tablets. Sitting on the edge of my bed and setting the bowl on her lap, she turned to me. I stood up instead, I couldn’t take the tablets or eat anything without brushing, that would be gross. Hell, I wasn’t supposed to eat until I’ve taken bath and dressed up, according to my religion. But then again, who follows all that crap now-a-days?