The Hangover (The Raising II)

The song kept playing in his mind – “ Koi Hamdam Na Raha Koi Sahara Na Raha”.... – Over and over again. He slowly came to from his rather troubled sleep. His head was throbbing. Try as much as he could he could not remember anything about the previous evening. When he looked down he saw that he was still fully dressed. Before he could continue contemplating on his doings the previous evening,overpowering nausea took hold of him. He barely made it  to the toilet bowl. In spite of his best efforts some of the vomit splashed on his feet. And then one mystery was solved. He had had dinner the previous night. Bits and pieces of chicken adorned his highly polished shoes along with paneer and half chewed rajma he could also make out some haribhari kebab... Koi Hamdam na Raha...  the song refused to go away. It all came back to him in disjointed memories. A smile tugged at his lips when he remembered  the animated dancing during the party. He shook his head when trying to clear it. The images of the previous evening came unbidden.

Just like all other parties, the Raising day party had started off on a sedate note . All the guests arrived formally turned out for the evening revelries. As was usual the ladies were dressed to kill. The colours nearly blinded him.And the variety of costumes was fantastic.His mind boggled when he thought about a theme party. That would have been surely outrageous.But that was not what interested him right now. It was necessary that- having been a part of the ‘Paltan’ – he assist the present lot of youngsters in ensuring that all guests were looked after. He believed in what one of his seniors told him; "Youngster" - he had said- " a party is deemed to be going well when the guest is received at the entrance and a drink of his/her choice put in their hand . Thereafter it is upto the guests to look after themselves". He always followed this valuable tip and imparted it to others wherever he had gone on posting.It had stood him in good stead all these years....

           The urge to participate in the revelries was reluctantly stifled - A gesture to the waiter with a tray laden with drinks to the guest who expressed his desire for a small whisky - Of course,  as was his wont, he tried to force a large drink on the guest - he could never understand the concept of ‘social drinking - "you drank to get drunk"was his philosophy. Not hold a drink in your hand as crutch to make small talk. These parties were so predictable. Initially there was a trickle of guests. The hosts stood at the gate , all attention to fulfill the smallest desire of the guest. Then they came in hordes. Leaving the hosts and the waiters confused and hassled. By this time some of the hosts left it to the younger lot to receive the latecomers, so as to look after their own friends and acquaintances. Finally the only person and lady at the entrance were the chief host and lady anxiously awaiting the arrival of the chief guest.Once he arrived, it was obligatory for the chief guest to make the rounds It was funny seeing the youngsters distancing themselves from their drinks and stubbing out cigarettes when the chief guest approached them. There were others who found it convenient to tag along with him dutifully laughing at his jokes.

The arrival of the guests went on for the next half an hour. The earlier guests were already on their second drink.

On the insistence of a youngster he finally succumbed to Bacchus. Moving from one guest to another he made small conversation, joked with the ladies , shook a leg on the dance floor, gorged himself with the snacks and along the way found that his glass was never empty. He assumed that he was being conservative and was going slow on the booze. He attributed his wobbly legs to the continuous celebrations as a build up to this major event now in progress. In any case seeing the way the party was swinging he felt proud about the whole thing . He could never stop being amazed at the resilience and dedication of the unit. Only a few days back the unit was in a gruelling exercise . The Commanding officers losing weight thinking about how they would cope up with the influx of guests and today they were celebrating in a grand manner.

            It was somewhere between the fourth and fifth drinks that he lost all his inhibitions. Suddenly he was the most visible person on the dance floor. He had his share of luck when his request for a dance was graciously accepted by the ladies and they accompanied him there. But as his movements started resembling someone with an electric eel down his back – they started avoiding him. Rejections did not matter . He looked at the world in general with a benevolent eye and continued dancing solo. When the guests started drifting towards the tastefully laid out dinner, he felt betrayed and all alone in this world.

         Finally it was time for the unit people to get together and let down their hair. The guests having partied and dined left while the night was still young. That was the catchword- the night was still young. As per his count he was still on his second drink. (He was mindful of his wife’s admonitions – do not drink too much). Everyone was on the floor dancing away to glory. He was on the sidelines for the time being.  Refreshing  his drink. His second for the night. This went on from sometime. On a chair close by there was this person who had finally given up on the festivities. He was stretched out and sleeping with his mouth open. It was time to take charge of the party. Notwithstanding the tired lot of people and the slow songs being played it was time to breathe some life into the party. Maybe that was when he he started singing. That memory evaded him. Thereafter it was a total blur.

The next thing he remembered was standing over the toilet bowl contemplating the just ejected contents of his stomach generously splattered all over his shoes –Koi Hamdam Na Raha- the song refused to go away. With a sigh he cleaned up as best as he could. The party was not yet over.....