“Thud, thud thud, bang, bang bang, – Bappa, oye Bappa what are you two doing in the living room?” we could hear shrill nasal voice of Mrs. Sinha sitting inside the room, “open the door.” Sipping Black Monk Rum Bappa answered, “we are studying mother; remember we have quarterly exam in another week.”
Bappa and I studied in the same college. Bappa was my friend, philosopher and misguide. He had a fertile brain full of ideas to experiment on all kinds of mischieves that would aggravate his parents. He was the one who persuaded me to spend my pocket money to buy beer and drink it in a public toilet. He showed me how to watch first fifteen minutes of the movie, in case we have missed it in our show, by hiding between seats. He would ask me slip away after taking my ice cream cone from a crowded stall, and pay for only one. Today his idea was to drink his father’s rum. His father had just returned from Shimla and his flask was almost full. What Bappa did not tell me was that his father was home.
“Bappa, you SOB,” we heard Mr. Sinha’s heavy set voice while he started shaking and kicking the door from outside, “open the bloody door, or I shall break it.”
By this time few other neighbors have also become curious. “What happened Sinha sahab,” one asked, “shall I phone police?”
As situation became more raucous, Bappa said “finish your drink or hide your glass under the sofa.” He took a mouthfull of salted snacks and opened the door, “in this house can one not even study in peace! what is your problem? I am leaving with Aniket to study in his home.”
Mr. Sinha did not utter a word, ignorning Bappa’s presence he walked straight to his cupboard and opened his flask, “Bappa what happened to my Rum? Why only half is left? You SOB!” Many other unmentionable expletives flew.
“I don’t know dad,” Bappa tried to remain unperturbed and tried to shirk off any responsibility, “its your flask and your Rum, you know best.”
Mr. Sinha looked at his son and appled a homemade breathalyser test. By grabbing Bappa by his hair, Mr. Sinha drew Bappa’s mouth close to his nose and said, “I smell alcohol. You bastard, get out of my sight.” (Another round of expletives).
Things were getting pretty embarrassing for me, though neither Mr or Mrs. Sinha uttered a single word in my direction. Finally Mr. Sinha looked in my direction and said, “Aniket, I shall ask your father to arrange a bottle of Rum, afterall, exams are approaching!”
What an embarrassing moment was that mild rebuke was for me! I felt the earth should divide and swallow me inside. I promised myself I’ll neverdrink with Bappa again,becauseof the embarrassment inflicted and total unpredictability of the situation.
Within a week Bappa went back to his antics and sucked me in. But that is a different story.
‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’ Today’s #WOW prompt is to write about ‘I’ll never do _____ again, because…‘. More posts in response to the prompt may be found here.
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