Fucked up behavior part 2: Big love, big scene.
It was 1998, I was 25 and in a new relationship. What kept my new liaison fresher than a steaming heap of cow dung was the fact that it was a long distance one. I lived in Madras and he lived in Bangalore. I was properly infatuated and the object of my affection was Thaks. I had seen our future flash before my eyes about 2 days in to our love affair and the only thing that could have made me any lighter headed was if he would just open his damn eyes and see it too. But half the fun of a relationship is the drama and half the drama is being in love with someone who appears to have less interest in you than you have in him. And so that was the state of things at the time.
Because that was the state of things it was left to me to keep the relationship alive and so every Friday night I would board the Bangalore Mail or the Lalbagh Express or the Brindavan Express or some bloody express or other for a weekend by my beloved’s side. I was beginning to tire of these over-night trips when one long weekend in September he and four of our friends decided that they would like to visit Pondicherry. Pondicherry – or Pondi as it is commonly known – is one of the most charming places in India. It used to be a French colony so the old part is still very French with rues and boulevards instead of streets and roads. Most locals speak French and the food and architecture reflect the city’s history. Madras happens to be a three hour car ride from Pondi and so the plan was that Thaks, Shaalu, Kabir and Aditya would drive from Bangalore to Madras where they would rendezvous with Mams – who would be driving the second car – and moi. We would then proceed to Pondi, spend the night there and drive back the following evening.
I was thrilled about this for two reasons. First – I would not have to travel by over-night train to get laid. And the second and more important reason – I was looking for any signs that our relationship may be approaching the ‘I love you’ mark and I had decided that anyone willing to drive all the way from Bangalore to Madras to whisk me away to Pondi for the weekend must be close. I was ignoring the fact that he would be sharing the driving with the others and also the fact that there would be others on the trip in the first place. Oh the things we are blind to in the name of l’amour.
The drive from Madras to Pondi started out on a very good note. We had managed to procure plenty of cold beer and some very strong weed. Everyone got high as soon as we hit the road (or rue). Back then I was not the recreational weed user I am today – I had tried inhaling the stuff on a few occasions but had obviously not done it right and so it never seemed to have the desired effect. I stuck with my drug of choice which was alcohol and to look slightly cooler than I was feeling lit up a Classic Milds. Today my toes curl at the thought of driving or being driven by someone who is fucked up but at 25 you think that you will live forever.
Lucky for us traffic was light and we made it to Pondi alive. The first thing we did was look for a hotel. We found a lovely place – Hotel Chateau de Croissant* – an old house that had been remodeled into a hotel. They were able to give us all three rooms on the top floor so we had private access to the hotel’s ‘roof garden’ which was actually a balcony covered in potted plants. While the male contingent of our posse settled themselves in for a drink and a smoke, Shaalu and I adjourned to our respective rooms to freshen up. I unpacked my things (even though we were only staying for one night) and in a very gay move unpacked Thaks’ things as well. I liked arranging his one T-shit next to my one t-shirt and his sneakers next to mine. In a fit of emotion I decided to go the extra mile and unpacked his shaving kit as well – perhaps if I continued with these extra little touches he would see my true worth and beg me to marry him.
For dinner the proprietor of our dwelling had suggested that we visit Chalet de Baguette* – a restaurant that he promised us was one of Pondicherry’s finest when it came to authentic French cuisine. Clearly it was a very popular place because we were only able to get a reservation for 9pm. It was still early so a unanimous decision to stay on the balcony and finish the rest of the weed was taken. I sat there with my bottle of beer and Classic Milds watching the rest of them pass the joint around. How cool they all looked sucking deeply on the spliff. I yearned to be part of the circle.
I’ll have some. I chirped the next time it came around.
I inhaled deeply and held the smoke in for a bit like I had seen them do. I did this a few times before Aditya snatched it out of my hand. I didn’t really feel anything so I continued to drink my beer. We lit up a few more before we finally got going and I made sure to get a few drags in. My god I was smoking weed! How cool was that? This weekend was coming together beautifully. I was able to showcase my caring, nurturing side (due to the unpacking) as well as my bad-ass, drug-abusing side. What man could resist this combination?
The restaurant was amazing. Like the hotel, it was situated in the compound of an old house. There were two seating areas, the garden and a two storied building in the back – which is where we had our table reserved. We made our way through the garden and up the stairs. The entire place was packed so Thaks, Mams and Kabir went over to the manager to find out when we would be seated. Shaalu, Aditya and I stood among the diners, marveling at our good sense at having taken the hotel guy’s suggestion.
Suddenly Shaalu grabbed my hand.
I think I’m going to pass out, she said and then she passed out.
Luckily for her she stumbled backwards in to Aditya who reacted quickly and grabbed her. Together we managed to keep her from hitting the floor. Noticing the ruckus a very nice, sari clad lady at a nearby table jumped up and shoved a chair at us in to which we shoved Shaalu. I had never seen anything like this – her eyes were glazed over and she looked like she was in a trance.
Go get the other guys. Aditya whispered to me. We need to get her out of here.
Is she OK? I asked stupidly.
No she isn’t – we need to get her the fuck out of here. He reiterated – a little slower this time to make sure McMoron (aka moi) got it.
Sari clad lady, her husband, children, as well as the patrons of several nearby tables were all focused on Shaalu. It suddenly occurred to me that the drugs may have caused this reaction and that one of us in the group was still holding. I whipped around to go get the rest of the party and suddenly I felt myself falling down a very long, very dark, very hard tunnel. It was a very strange sensation.
When I came to a few seconds later Aditya looked like he was about to go under. I don’t think he could believe what was happening. He was standing in the middle of a respectable family style restaurant, surrounded by fainting women. At this point he just looked across the restaurant and yelled for Thaks and the others. They rushed across to where we were. This is when I fell more in love with Thaks. He was in complete control.
Rads! He whispered to me. Can you walk?
Yes. I said not wanting to disappoint him. Yes I can walk.
OK good. Mams is going to walk with you and I am going to help Aditya get Shaalu out of here. OK?
OK.
Clearly Shaalu needed more help. I was proud to be able to take care of myself.
Kabir you go get the car.
Kabir fled not wanting to be seen with us. As we began to leave I noticed that all the guests, waiters and several members of the kitchen staff had come to get a gander at the show we were putting on and the sari clad lady was eyeballing us suspiciously. As we approached the stairs Mams, who was supposed to be helping me, lit himself a cigarette, took a deep drag on it, blew the smoke directly in to my face and asked if I could ‘manage’ down the stairs. I replied in the affirmative without really knowing. I then put one foot on the first stair and the next thing I knew I totally blacked out and went flying all the way down yet another long, dark – and in this case bumpy – tunnel.
Rads can you hear me? Rads!
I could hear my lover’s voice in the distance. My heart was pounding, I was sweating madly and was convinced that I was in the middle of a drug-overdose induced heart attack. My mind was racing and all I could think about was that I was going to die from 4 drags on a fucking marijuana cigarette in Pondicherry – if my parents found out about any of this they would kill me – but wait I would already be dead – oh my God this is all too much.
I don’t want to die. I gasped.
You are not going to die. Can you get up?
This time I did not lie.
I don’t think so.
I could hear Thaks take control. Again.
Mams and Aditya you guys take Shaalu out.
Apparently Shaalu – while needing two people to guide her was capable of actually walking. Then Thaks lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder like a fireman. Once he had me up there he just walked out of the restaurant, through the garden, past all the diners as if this was perfectly normal. In the middle of all this my one Birkenstock fell of my foot. I discovered this as I was being loaded in to the car. Having paid 60 pounds for my lesbian footwear I almost passed out again on finding it missing. Mams rushed back in to the restaurant to retrieve my sandal then jumped in the car and we got out of there.
Once we got back to the hotel Shaalu and I were deposited in our rooms. Shaalu promptly passed out and I began to experience my first ever bout with paranoia. What if someone at the restaurant had thought there was something strange about our behavior and called the authorities? This was discussed for a minute and the boys decided that in order to appear less shady they would go right back to Chalet de Baguette.
And leave us here on our own?! What if the cops show up? I wailed semi-consciously. What if they find the grass? What shall I say happened to us?!
The grass is over thanks to the two of you, and just tell them it was food poisoning if they ask. Aditya said.
What shall I say I ate?
While the weed was having a very negative effect on me it was obviously having the opposite effect on the men. They seemed to find my need to cover our tracks very entertaining.
It’s not funny – what if they ask!
OK OK – tell them you ate fish, Kabir snapped. By this time he had clearly had enough. As far as he was concerned Shaalu and I were intentionally trying to ruin his weekend. He was also certain I had faked the whole thing to one-up Shaalu.
Where! Where do I say we ate the fish?
In response I heard the door slam shut and the latch being thrown on the outside. Even if I did somehow get my wits about me I would be unable to leave the room and follow them out with my list of idiotic questions. I spent the rest of the night dreaming that the police had caught me smuggling vast quantities of illegal substances and awoke the next day feeling surprisingly well rested and very, very hungry.
Suffice it to say no ‘I love you’ were exchanged on that holiday. Or for a while.
*Because of my fucked up behavior I do not remember the actual name of the hotel or restaurant and had to make them up.
hilarious rads. couldn’t stop laughing at the birkenstock bit and the fact that thaks flung you over his shoulders like a rag doll and strolled out of the restaurant like it was normal…..have to start reading your blog more often now. you write very well…
absolutely hillarious….werent we careless !!absolutely do not want to imagine my kids doing the things we did…..