A one-liner about self
Sometimes I wonder if I should be called a drunkard. I am not sure; and neither am I an oenophile. But I surely do enjoy drinking. I have tried to analyze in vein the magic cast by the puny Oxyl group that gets diffused in my blood and takes me to a placid state. I’m sure that I’m no exception but abundance of instances doesn’t lessen the mark of the intensity of the effect imparted by the reality, and the not-so-frivolous decadent-in-good-way impact of alcohol on me is very much real.
It is well known that alcohol causes harm to health in the long run. So what is it that is steering the industry through a lavish present to a sustainable (even prosperous) future? I bet I shall speak for a million more when I admit that the key is hidden in Now. No matter how short lived it may be, it is the promise of the phase of daze that allures myriads of minds to its liquefied world of splendour.
Now an obvious question that lurks in our mind is that why one needs to be in such a state. Why feel the compulsion to relinquish our coveted consciousness for a patch of blur woven in our timeline? Interestingly, there is no unique answer to that, which keeps this practice in existence and even boosts its vigour and clasp over our lives.
I should probably put a disclaimer here declaring my lack of intention of being politically correct, which involves wrangling data and exhuming intense statistical analysis. I take this liberty to put my feelings into words and after all ‘it’s only words and words are all I have to take your heart away’. So, where were we? Ah, the source of motivation, the Force, that nudges innocent individuals right into the abysmal pit of drunken euphoria. With your nervous system soothed and your conscious self on leave, you are free–of yourself. Momentarily you don’t have to bear the unspeakable onus of being rational and of listening to your better judgement. Down with the blow of stupor, you muster courage to unleash the floodgate of raw emotions, unmasked and coarse, uninhibited to show their true colors. Now that indeed renders a sense of unfathomable emancipation.
Some people drink to flush their pain away. Some people want to liberate themselves from the cage of humanity. And the rest find haven in a superior self of themselves. Imagine the inexplicable content when you feel the bliss of heightened emotions. You feel every string of your heart being pulled. And more amazingly, you respond. You react unabashedly to each of those undulations grazing the safe nook of your heart.
Want to break free from the humdrum of the quotidian life? Pour the liquid solution into a glass and you are all set for a journey into vagueness. With a gaze sucked into the impeccable beauty of the solvent flaunting dissolved sunshine, radiant garnet or immaculate transparency and a core soaked with an indulging warmth, you cherish your presence with a coveted indifference. Your conscience or the half-witted well-wishers (more often than not they are the same) may poke you, call you names, even scorn you for this apparent escapism, but your numb brain adeptly chooses to ignore those whispers of lackluster prudence and buys you those precious hours of carefree nuisance.
Sometimes I wonder if the key of the popularity of alcohol is embedded in its success in rendering courage in an exhausted heart by painting a tinkering virtual reality, which is menacingly close yet subtly far from the corporeal one. Often lost in the quest of communicating with fellow Homo-sapiens (which proves to be shockingly complicated at times), I find my way back to an existence commensurate with the ambiance. Sip after sip I get into the rhythm and crawl and falter and get up and continue in a sloppy manner but all the while I end up playing my role in the game of tremendous skills that we call a ‘meaningful conversation’. In a world where growing is fast but growing old is faster, losing heart is quick but loosening the connection is quicker, alcohol alcohol seems to do the job of petering the pace quite well. It sees right through your veiled glance, makes an obstacle translucent and hands you over with a necessary tool to carve your way out of the prison; a prison that you have built for yourself or the situation has built for you.