And then it struck

Last many years of my life have been spent in making merry. A typical weekend went like this: Arrive home from office, jump into something comfy, ride along with room-mate to the nearest Delhi Government approved ‘Wine & Beer Shop’ [Boo! Noida & it's expensive booze] Drink like nomads lost in Sahara, then watch movies at the theater & then rise in the middle of the show only to be shouted at by the unappreciative crowd from behind and then return home for dinner cooked by our wonderful maid and then sleep and then drink different remedies next morning to counter the hangover. This ‘usual weekend’ used to spill into weekdays on most occasions.

Life seemed wonderful, like most of you young people out there on the internet, downloading movies/series from torrents, running away to the hills or a beach on a longish weekend, contemplating a new job, fighting off parents pressure to get married and getting starry-eyed just by looking at the new colleague at office.

One fine Friday evening, weekend was about to kick off in the usual manner knowing that the prior movie plan had been shelved. I headed home and realized I had spoken to my room-mate about cutting down on booze, a bit. Then saw, kept neatly in the corner of our empty home, a bottle of Teacher’s. Sigh. Friends came over in a short while and then the ‘usual’ began. It always falls short as we all know, so out we went to bring some more. Booze has been had, we said in unison. Time for food, no movie this time around as I had something lined up for the next morning. Plans, plans, plans we all have so many of them.

Oops. No food at home. It’s just some leftover Kurkure & Lay’s. The ‘wonderful’ maid had left us in a lurch this evening. Where to go now? It had been on our minds for a while now, so I let it out “MURTHAL” maybe it was the Teacher’s. In doing so we ignored another friend’s call to come to Gurgaon in order to prolong this ‘usual’ weekend night. NO we said.

Two bikes. Four fellas. Off to Murthal. My other room-mate, who was not drunk, was riding the bike and I was riding it’s pillion. We started rolling and it had been 15 minutes since we left home. And then it struck. It is something that I can’t seem to forget even if I want to [which I actually want to].

It just took a second or so. I remember feeling as if I was pushed forward in the air by a massive force and all this time, hanging in the air, I kept saying to myself “This can’t possibly be happening to me. This is nothing but Teacher’s. Never again you dastardly booze.” And then poof. No memories afterwards. The next thing I remember, people pulling me towards the side of the road. I was feeling numb. I knew something had happened. What? I was about to find out. I also remember, people telling me something about being lucky and fortunate to be alive or something like that. I also remember that I had worn a helmet albeit of ‘questionable’ quality but it wasn’t there on my head when I realized I was no longer on the bike [stupid Pulsar 180]

The cops arrived in a couple of minutes and took me & the rider, my OTHER room-mate, in their car and started driving in the wrong direction on a one-way road. As I was being blinded by the high-beam from upcoming vehicles, I started to feel an intense sensation all over my body. My ‘comfort-wear’ consisting of a soothing cotton tee [sigh] and a light-as-feather shorts had been ripped apart into shreds. I also realized that my right knee had opened up. Not because it was shy in front of me earlier but literally opened up. I could see dirt and what not sticking to what was now blood thickening. Rest was to follow soon.

As soon as we reached what looked like a typical government hospital albeit a small one, we were asked by the cops to go in. It didn’t seem like a big deal until I realized [There are so many realizations in this post. Please bear with me] I had difficulty walking, a big big difficulty. The earlier numbness had started to slowly give a way to pain. Yikes. So I limped in and was asked to lie down on a stretcher. The doctor examined my limbs. Asking every time “Does it hurt?” Next a wardboy shaved off a portion of my chin, making me realize [told you, there are a lot of em] that I had a gash on the chin. I was given a shot of LA [fuck you noobs, LA: Local Anesthesia] Then the gash was sewed up. I was liking the LA by now. No pain. Wonderful.

By now I started to realize what had happened and oh, the consequences. I was worried what to say to my parents when they would finally see me like this. I burst open crying thinking all the time what to say to them, forgetting the pain. In a sense it worked. Later, my wounds consisting of scratches, minor to medium to large to humongous to are-you-fucking-crazy, all over the body were applied with what looked like Betadine. I fairly remember the burning sensation was exactly the same as felt in childhood. All okay till here. Now, I was lying on a different bed. Took a while to lie down on it as it was covered in blood on one end but considering I was covered all over in blood myself, it felt alright.

Just when I completed analyzing the extent of my injuries, I felt something move in my mouth. I threw out a piece of one of my tooth’s enamel. How do I say this, but I almost crapped in my shredded shorts. My entire focus had now shifted to my teeth. I was afraid that I might become Bogs Diamond from ‘The Shawshank Redemption’.

As you might have recognized, he is the one who butt-fucks the protagonist.

I couldn’t know how much damage had been caused as I couldn’t open my mouth much as my head had swollen by now. My tongue was a busy part from here on. I kept saying to my room-mate [the won who was drunk and riding the other bike] that I was not worried about anything but my teeth. In the mean time, I received 12 stitches on my knee, thank god for the LA.

This shit happened 5 weeks back and I am still recovering. Also, now I now know that I had fractured 10 teeth in all. The intensity of damage was low to medium to critical. It made me realize how important teeth are. What made me drop down a few more tears was this line by the dentist on my first visit “You have taken very good care of your teeth. Very good. Oops” That was my first visit to a dentist in my entire lifetime. Dang.

I hope to be back to normal in a month or so when I would hopefully be able to run again [Oh, How I miss it] but this entire incident has had a few positives.

1) I realized that my ‘other’ room-mate who was riding the wretched bike can look behind by turning his head entirely to spot another vehicle while riding. So what if it results in a crash of his own bike. [yes, that's the cause of the crash]

2) This is the best way to lose influence of any kind of booze. I have personally verified it. Works like a charm. Please not to test it at home. Please. I beg of you.

3) This incident made me realize how valuable parents are. Over the years, making merry, I had forgotten all things home. Gosh, did I want this to happen for the realization to strike me? No way.

4) Sucking from a straw for nourishment is fun. Try it sometime.

5) Pain tried a lot but I have endured it much to kick it in the teeth. [Must have hurt, sorry pain]

6) Realization is my new favorite word… or not.

Sorry all for this longish post. Take care and… and nothing.