ummm

It was about fighting em demons tonight. You know, you're 27, all your friends are married, some marry people you like, some marry weird people. Some you just love and some you just cannot stand, your best friend, he marries a cow. People have plans and they're all in pairs. You are single and well, you have no one to hang with. You have not been on a single date in 2010, but you're oversexed. Life goes on. It's a Saturday night, but you got home at 4.00 am last night and you did absolutely nothing today. You tell yourself, you should stay in. Besides I mean, you're kinda fat to be seen in public. Yes, you're eating right or at least trying to but the cheesecake bites and the chocolate cake there after you devoured are not helping. And all those promises to yourself, of running every morning and still empty.

So yes. Demons. Fighting them. You have Tata sky plus, life is more than jing-a-la-la. Movies have been recoded and remember the strand book fair purchases? There's woody allen, haruki murakami, 100 shitty jobs and how to land them, salman rushdie and not to forget milan kundera waiting to accompany you to bed. You're gonna do it.

Start Music :- Demon Fighting [sing in kung fu fighting tone please]

Then as the clock strikes 11:00, you step out. Drive. Spot the store you're looking for. You step out. You walk. You suck your tummy in because a cute boy smoking a cigarette  [harmful to health since you gave up smoking] in a black honda civic can see you walk. You can't really see him, you just assume he's cute. You walk up and you buy that bottle of wine. Chenin Blanc. Yes, you wanted the Sauvignon Blanc, but it's not chilled.

You come home. The bar is locked because the domestic help devours a shot or ten from time to time. You contemplate drinking wine in your funky street chai glasses, with colored motifs. But you remember using them as tea light holders. You remove the glass in which you have luke warm water with an entire lemon squeeze and two spoons of honey. You remember, you didn't drink that today. You promise to tomorrow. Half a bottle disappears into that glass. Chotu, the domestic help looks at you. You smile at him. You wonder if he'll sneak in a sip or two when you go upstairs.

You come into your room. You drink. You watch Vicky Christina Barcelona. You really really long to go to spain. But then, you really really long to go anywhere. You want to be like woody allen. Miss your wayfarers that folded, but broke. You miss your trip to bangkok.

The wine is nice. It makes you feel light.

You wonder if it's alcoholism, to even consider drinking all alone. You spot neel on facebook chat. You ask him, he says no, but it is most certainly a sign on loneliness he says. Whatever, chewt. He asks you to fly to U.S so you can drink together. You like the sound of that.

Glass over.

You contemplate another glass. The other half of the bottle. You're nice and happy.

You google " should I be concerned if I finished off an entire bottle of wine by myself ? "

The response is mixed. Whatever. Stupid Google.It says, it's okay when it's not done very often. There, that's comforting.Then you remember that you helped K polish of a bottle the previous night. So, that's half-a-bottle. But that doesn't make you a drunk. The 24 shots of whatever-it-was on your birthday night, yes, that was alcoholism. Endless number of watermelon martini's in Goa, yes that was alcoholism. You wonder if they renamed the drink after you. They ought to have.

You stop blogging. You go down for a refill. There's a lizard, you say hello. Generally, you'd run. You're petrified of them, but no, not tonight. Surprise surprise, the second glass does not equate to an empty bottle. You're not as "light" anymore. You wonder if the wine will leave you with a headache the next morning.

Large sip. Yes, you know there are bigger problems at hand and you must return to them. You decide to go back to vicky, chritina & barcelona.

Sir demon, brace yourself, I am coming again. You giggle, you said cumming.

End Music :- Demon Fighting. [sung in kung fu fighting tone]