Alcoholism

This for someone with whom I cannot give my relationship a name. It
involves all, animosity, friendship, admiration, love and respect.
There is only one thing I know....without this guy things will not be
that easy and I just like it to be that way ----

Start---

His sun-sign was not Taurus. But he was no less than a bull. The epitome of masculinity stretched across his chest, which made girls drool over him. Believer, non-believer, sadist, masochist,hero-worshipper, self-made man, loser and a winner...all these traits were equally dispersed across his 5ft 8 inches body frame.

A typical day in his life would start with a beedi (khakis) and as it progresses, other brands would kiss his lips and ease down his lungs as smoothly as the earlier one. So was the case with the girls, to whom he never attached. Just that they tried to hold on to him often in vain.

He worshipped his profession, he loved it as well and at times treated it as his whore. Squeezing the most out of it and giving his best. Words were his compatriots, analogies his friends, assumptions his ideas and the copy was all about the first paragraph.

To understand him you need to go through his work. His first paragraph was just like his first impression. It will bedazzle you. You'll find him the most erudite person on any topic. Comprehensive yet strong views. Move to the second paragraph and you'll feel the rough edges but still not able to pin-point them. The charm would be so overwhelming that it will make you sail till the last.

The ending...well that will come at the end of this story. So as you may guessed, this guy was....what? Well everyone around him comes with a different opinion. Intriguing, Explosive, Fake, Dramatic were some of the most overused words.

He was standing at his balcony. A burning sensation made him realised that the cig in his hands embraced death. Smoking at the balcony was almost a pleasure. The tree in front was a juxtaposition. Juxtaposition....with what? May be life. A nomad who was transfixed, still trying to reach to the skies, branching out wherever it can.

His cell blinked and a familiar name announced his virtual presence. Connecting people..huh! Sometimes breaking connections is more easier than maintaining them.

Hi
Hi

Missing me?

Well, I generally do (not totally a lie)

Liar, then why did not't you call?

I don't have balance

Why you always run out of balance, whom do you call so much?

I don't know, I don't bother to check

You should know, why don't you save some money

---By now his hands were fumbling to light another cig and the idea of banging the cell on the wall ahead was raising its hood-----

Well, you're right. Perhaps I need to learn to manage many things

No. You need to do it now and what other things you talking about?

Nothing

Tell me, na. Don't act like this. I hate it. I know you don't love me.

---- Love, Hate....easy words though they encompasses many emotions---

Accha, I will call you back. (and he disconnected the phone)



He raised himself with much pain. A spinning head is not an easy thing to handle. Last night, like many earlier he was drunk. Alcohol was not a necessity with him, it was just a mean to be what he wants to be.

As he flipped through the daily crap that gets printed in white, pink and now orange he wondered where is everyone heading to? Aspiring for things beyond their reach and losing on what they have. A game where losing is reality and wins are never counted.

He too had responsibilities. Some deserving most unwanted. He don't want to think about them. This way or the other he will fulfill them for what needs to be, needs to be done.

The trip to the office wasn't the best one. Bloody autorickshawas they charge a ransom. As soon as he entered his colleague walked up to him. Last night wasn't a nice experience for this guy as well.

Why he drinks? (he laughed at the thought)

--- Boss, we're going to be fucked

Relax man, I'm there (he replied with an ease)

But still, at least we need to start

Yeah, yeah, let's go for a smoke first then we'll decide. Let's go.

What the fuck?

Chill. I'm there.

He walked up to his computer and keyed in the password. Connected...to the globe through world wide web. Checked his mails, Orkut and then his blog. His diary, his world where he writes what he feels.

The day was longed by futile discussions, incoherent colleagues,stupid passers-by and a nonchalant atmosphere. The four walls were a cage. He wished for a bomb to explode. Finding himself nearing death among the mutilated bodies.

As the night dawned, he walked out of the office. A sense of uneasiness overtook him. True identities of people started revealing,game plans unveiled, love, hate, friendship out of necessity saddened him. And the futility of existence mauled his free soul.

His legs took him to the nearest bar. Perhaps the daughter of grapes will make him believe, what does not exist. But this is not the ending. because his endings were never abrupt, they mean something,trying to prove a pint though unjustified. And all this leaves some mortals confused and make others fall in love with him.

But one question that haunts him and many alike. Is this what is called as alcoholism or just being successfully unsuccessful?