I WON'T DRINK

Kingfisher. No. Not at all. I am a man and a man takes whisky"
"Ok Arun. It’s your treat. Its up to you. We are at the receiving ends. Right!"
"Its not my father's marriage party that I will give you a treat. We will do contro."
“I can't pay a single penny. I had already made it clear to you."
"Then come, let’s leave. No point in sitting in a bar and fighting over he bill. It really wont bother you much as the bill will be trivided."
"No trivision” exclaimed Devesh “Babu can pay the total bill alone. Say : Babu bhai jindabad, Babu bhai jindabad"
"Stop your mouth" said I "I am not gonna drink"
"Really" said both of them.
"How many times will I repeat it?”
"We thought you were joking “said Arun
"Am I a joker?"
"No. Jokers are not that ugly” laughed Devesh.
"Shut up. I will take only soft drinks. You enjoy yourself. I have no objection"
Both of them looked at me puzzled .Then Arun mimicked me “I have no objection" and both broke into a terrible kind of laughter that disconcerted the lady at the next table.
"Why the hell are you laughing like that? I am really truthful this time. I won't even touch alcohol."
"No need to touch. We can pour it onto your mouth dear” said Devesh and stretched his right palm towards Arun who clapped it and they both broke into another fit of laughter causing more disapproval of the lady at the next table.
“Need I tell you again that I won't...won't and won't drink.” My voice rose step by step at every WON’T I uttered.
They feigned mock seriousness. Arun said" Ok Mr. Mahatma Gandhi, you don't drink and only see how we drink"


They ordered a Royal Stag for them and a coke for me. Manchurian was brought as accompaniment which I greedily used to satisfy my appetite.

“Dilution, distribution and diet”. That is the 3d formula of drinks. Arun made the pegs he’s the most dexterous in the art of peg-making..
“Why did you serve 3 glasses? I told you I won’t drink” said I.
“Chill man. You don’t drink. if the 3rd glass remains filled till the end, any of we two will take it” said Arun.
Devesh lifted a glass, stretched toward me and sad “Babu! Enough is enough. Take it man and be a man if you are really a man.”
Though I could not understand his pun with the word man, I repeated the sentence “Enough is enough. I won’t drink means I won’t drink”

I could not drink as I had made a promise.” Be a good man my boy” my father had said on the departing day of my home town. That day my mother had prepared mushroom curry, Palau rice and potato-tomato curry.


I had eaten to my heart’s content But the food was accompanied by the preaching of my father.” you know the material condition of your family. You are the first one in your family to cross matriculation. Capitalize your opportunities to the maximum extent. The world is facing a cut-throat competition at all levels. Only the fit ones survive”


I saw the ghost of “Shiv Khera” entering into the body of my father. I used both my ears; one in hearing and the other n passing it off. Then he made me promise to him that I would eschew from cigarette and liquor .I was astonished by the frankness with which he told me all these things. However I took both. There is a rare pleasure in enjoying everything your parents refuse you to do. I am happy that my father didn’t mention to avoid drugs.


When I visited home this time, I reached one day early than my parents ha wished me to see. At home, I found my mot6her taking her lunch. Watered rice, onion, chilly and radish were taken from kitchen garden at the backside. There was no curry no daal. I asked my mother to prepare something for me. But how could she? There was no vegetable at home. My mother’s explanation was who would they keep the vegetable for? The old couple may satisfy their scanty appetite with whatever fond in the kitchen garden. No pomp and luxury required. One tomato or a boiled potato will do. You don’t need to be a student of literature to read between those lines. Somehow I felt guilty. I took an instant oath that I would not spend their hard-earned money on my petty demands like cigarette and alcohol etc which can be bought only at the expense of the plates of curry on my parent’s  menu.

Cheers…ok you don’t take but at least lift the glass and say cheers with us Mr “ IWONTDRINK” Arun said sarcastically.


Both finished their glasses and empty glasses were banged on the table while the filled one looked like unravished bride at the first night. My hand twitched. My heart hesitated. One sip… one doesn’t matter much. No… I am firm on my determination. I won’t touch t. I kept my hand in pocket and restrained myself. They poured a second drink.
“Babu! You are really a spoilsport. I hate such morons.” said Devesh

“I hate drunkards” she had said.
“So you hate me” was my reply.


She shrugged and holding my hands said imploringly: “you must leave drinking Babu”


I love to make people beg before me. Vexing others has a heavenly pleasure in it. I don’t feel so” I said sternly. “Everyone must have an intoxication of some sort. Something in which he would forget his sorrows, joys and himself altogether. For some people it is poetry, for some it is music, I am among those for whom its alcohol.”I was telling in a proud way as if I am given the divine duty of drinking. I was thinking that modern girls love bad boys with fashionable habits like drinking, smoking etc. Those who refrain from it would generally be  regarded as non-daring fools with medieval good habits.But my rabbit was an exception.


So by alcohol, you can even forget me?
I lacked words
Is its intoxication more powerful than the intoxication of love?
No, nothing is more precious and powerful than you my rabbit.
I tried to glide my hands over her chin and she avoided my fingers.
If for you, intoxication is so much necessary… then…

I have heard that this is called French kiss. But I could not trace its origin or nationality as it was so sudden and so unexpected. It was a storm which came and passed away by its own accord. Later I could find a red glow over my lips.


If your bloody alcohol is more interesting than this… than continue

She said. That day I had made a promise I won’t drink.


It is not done man. You came to a beer bar and go undrunk. It’s like coming to a pond and returning unbathed.said Devesh.


Its like coming to a kothi and returning virgin. Arun’s analogy had more wit.But I outdid him by saying “It’s actually like coming to a battle and returning unscathed.”


“Now seriously, babu, take one sip. For us .Are we friends nothing for you?”After taking the second sip Devesh was already intoxicated a little.


“Babu!”Arun said in a dramatic tone Recognize your talent. You are like that mighty Hanuman who forgot the art of flying. I, the Jambawant remind you of your hidden power. As Hanuman could cover the whole ocean at one jump, you can devour the whole bottle at one gulp. At least, at the very least take one sip veer Hanuman. Remaining sober in an asylum is the greatest madness. Be insane and acclimatize yourself with your environment. Enjoy every fruit of life babu… Enjoy.”


I realised the supreme court had missed an excellent lawyer. But he could not convince me. How can I break the promise made to my dear rabbit?


Though she would never come to know abut this. None is a sinner till he is not caught red handed.. But that’s not the case. Promise is to be kept- its inviolable – its sacrosanct. I WON’T DRINK.


They poured the third glass. The glasses had a mid-air collision. The impatient duo emptied the glass in two sips and attacked on Manchurian. Arun demanded another plate. Devesh made his stance clear. “I am not going to contribute for the second plate. I don’t have enough bucks in my pocket”
“No, I don’t find it in my purse. How” my sister was almost sobbing.


She turned panicky at little disturbances like my mother and it was not that little. Any disturbance concerning money (however little the money may be) is not little
“Look in the almirah” said my mother. I stayed silent in my room.
“I know I had kept it in my purse. How will it go to almirah?”

Money has wings . It can fly reflected I.


“You people never keep anything in their proper places. In time of need, you scream I lost it … I lost it. Search yourself and don’t trouble me” said my unperturbed mother.


I remember, I had kept it in purse. I got 100 rupees from Minu aunty. She took her blouse piece and gave the new piece of cloth. I kept the cloth piece in almirah and 100 rupees in the purse and the purse on the machine. Mama! Give me 100 rupees now. I have to buy a gift for suchitra’s birth day party.


"I don’t have a new paisa with me. There is no money tree planted in our garden” as if in other's garden ripe money fruits are hanging from branches.


She searched but searched in vain.
She entered my room, ascertained that I was the true culprit.

“ Bhaia! Give me my 100 rupees. I have to buy a gift.”
“I don’t know where your hundred rupees are”
"You had seen me keeping the money in the purse. You had also taken 20 rupees earlier”
“Hold your tongue” I was just about to say “and let me love” but I controlled myself. That’s how John Donne’s poem begins. Literature can make you embarrassed any where and any time.
“Bhaia, I know you drink. For your drinking party you had stolen my 100 rupees. I will tell papa”

Slap- a hard – right hand- masculine slap.


Next moment she saw my fingerprints Xeroxed on her cheek. Wept and went.


But I could hear the echoes of my slap multiplied to HUNDREAD on my cheeks; not only slaps .they will transform themselves into various other types of corporal punishments.


My extrovert sister will go and vomit all my secrets in front of my father. My benevolent father hardly beats me. But alas! “Hardly” is not a synonym of “never”. Once he is exasperated beyond limit he forgets the fact that I am a youth past 18 and have voted in general election as a citizen of India already. I felt the scar formed two years ago by his belt-turned-hunter.


I slept in tear and rose in fear but …what… nothing happened. I got up. My mother brought the tea. My father had already departed for office. Every thing was so celestially common. My sister!


That day I took the oath. I WON’T DRINK.

“You son of a swine” said Arun totally lost in wine.
“You don’t know Arun. Our Mr “IWONTDRINK” has been shackled by a promise to a fair sex. He won’t drink as a bitch’s word is more important than his friend” said Devesh in fragments.
“No…no…no. to drink the heart of a tiger is needed. That’s with a man not with a hermaphrodite.”
I wanted to prove my manliness by gulping the glass before me. But I have made promises. I WON’T DRINK
“Arun!” said Devesh , don’t wait for an effeminate. The first served and the last remaining peg is for us as we are Men … Men.

I felt an irresistible impulse of slapping him hard. Damn with your men-men- men. Damn with your bloody friendship. My hand twitched to slap him hard. As hard as I slapped to my sister. No harder than that. I broke loose. I raised my hand which grabbed the only glass remaining .

Gulp-Gulp-Gulp
Down the throat .
 
 
 
UMESH PATRA