Being free

So we have three national holidays in a year: Republic Day, Independence Day and Gandhi Jayanti. Now people demonstrate their patriotism in different ways: maintaining a ban on alcohol, listening to patriotic music and watching movies which unite all parts of India: like Border, Bombay and Andaz Apna Apna. For me though, it works a little differently. I spend ALL my national holidays in Bangalore, Koramangla to be specific, with anon and the guys from college.

There I was again, on an extended weekend: three of the hottest women in K/M (anon, DB and me), four of the sweetest guys on the verge of life-changing events (getting married/having kids/moving to new jobs) and Neil, the ultimate wannabe who tries to fit in but cannot, doing all the things that has made us happy over the years.

So, we lounged around the house, eating homemade paranthas and rajma chawal made by anon and DB, watching India Pakistan and playing above-mentioned patriotic music in the background, binging on cheap alcohol while we gossiped till late at night.

We discussed Indian history the way it would make our historians turn in their grave as we watched Jodha Akbar.

We went to Jimmi’s, being the only ones there on a Saturday afternoon, as we drank at a godforsaken hour and then to Egg Factory for the biggest Sunday brunch of my life.

We sat on the terrace, smoking and discussing ‘deep, philosophical aspects of life’ till we got bored of our own voices.

We saw Vir Das perform live as we doubled up in laughter, holding our stomach till we felt we would explode.

We went to the Hard Rock Café and drank till we puked, hoping the loud music would drown the deafening silence.

Then there were the non-human elements like Dhaula, the dog and Kasturi, the GPS voice, both of which formed an important element to the weekend.

And then I came back, feeling empty, not wanting to leave, not wanting to let go and hoping for the never-ending freedom that no national holiday can offer…