Philosophy in Life

Somewhere in life, I guess its important to have a good, strong philosophy to live by. Something that keeps you going no matter what, and obviously doesn't antagonize too many people living in the civil (or otherwise) society around you. Quite obviously, if this blog was made to talk about life philosophies, it would be christened such. So let me get on with it.
The year 2008 was a few minutes old when, like a million other people, I picked up my phone to start wishing my near and dear ones. I was, I proudly proclaim, one of the most sober New Year revelers that night in the age group of 18-25. And therefore, despite having to make repeated attempts to get through to some of my friends, I still tried, not out of some undying love, but because of the undying sincerity of the future "Booze Diaries" author. In plain simple terms, I was expecting entertainment from the other end, and I entertainment I got.
I knew the night would be one of revelation right after the first call when I was wished, not a Happy, but a "Happpy Happpy Hippie Hippie Happy (Hic!)" New Year. Having made that eventful first call, I was only spurred on to look for others who could bring joy to what had been a fairly uneventful New Year's Eve. And after a few calls, I happened to call my dear friend Mini, who as she later recalled, could barely walk in straight line when she received my call. After having expressed pity at my sober situation that night, Mini went on to encourage me in the most philosophical manner. This I believe was her life philosophy for these were the words that I heard:
"Siddhu... Buddhism teaches us to get drunk!"
And the phone got disconnected right after that. I deem to rechristen this sentence as the Madi(/hu)ra Sutra. Never once pronounced by the Buddha himself, but adds a lot of light and meaning to lives around us I guess!
Hippie New Year.

Designated Driver

Yep. Thats pretty much the worst seat in the house when there's a party, but someone's gotta do it! And that someone can't be the same person every time. But it has its own pluses. You can calmly sit in one corner and watch people make fools out of themselves and then remind them of their actions for the rest of their miserable life. I guess thats more of a reason why the same person is not appointed the designated driver every time. So that everyone, with no exceptions whatsoever, has ammo on everyone else and in the process everyone keeps shut for the general benefit of civil society.
So yes, as you might have got it already, I was the designated driver last night and hence not much to report about myself. Although, a few interesting things did transpire. For one we collectively came up with the brilliant dance move called "The Manu" (I can sense a 'moody' comment coming from the commentator on the previous post!) in honour of the outlandish ways of our dear friend. The move, albeit goofy, did draw up a room full of supporters who were enthusiastically performing the new step. I say this could give the Macarena a hard time pretty soon.
A few ghosts of my not so illustrious recent past came to haunt me as well. A girl walked up to me (quite obviously under the influence of a few measures of alcohol) and accused me of ruining her earrings at the last party and this she said, would be her everlasting memory of me (the mode of ruination of her earrings will not be disclosed, for even though this isn't a family blog, it is certainly not a means to make people lose their lunch). She was however, quite happy and graciously accepted my offer to her, it being that she could ruin my 'earrings' when I got them. I rest my case so far as advantages of being the designated driver are concerned.


P.S: Beginner's guide to performing "The Manu":

1. Left arm outstretched, palms open.
2. Right palm open, hand behind the ear (like you're having trouble hearing).
3. Wave both hands (As if bidding farewell to people in two different directions at the same time).

Try out the next big thing at your next party. Conditions Apply.

Of Blogs and Slow Death

A not so wise man, albeit a senior blogger told me when i started this blog and was writing with more fervor than one could expect or imagine, that blogs die a slow painful death. Well, thats precisely what transpires with this one. For one, I haven't been to a party for over a month, and hence no instance where either I, or any of my singularly (at times grossly) entertaining gang of drinking chums could provide for some entertainment. Allow me to also impress this fact upon my readers amongst the fairer sex (few as they might be), that I am, in fact, not a drunken buffoon as the previous posts might seem to suggest. Let me rephrase, I'm not AS BIG a drunken buffoon as the previous posts might seem to suggest. And just as I was about to post this with a melancholy sigh, I received a call. There's a party tonight!
Watch this space I say. This blog shall die another day.
(As some very bored readers might put it, "That rhymes! Whee!")