BOCK ROTTOM

And no…this is not a bad word! It all began on a certain Friday evening when a couple of friends decide to get out and paint the town red rather than visiting our friendly neighborhood bar. Add a friend’s birthday to this and voila we have a reason to celebrate, which otherwise would still be a celebration but with no defined purpose, not that I’m saying we need a purpose, since either ways purpose or no purpose we still end up bottle worshiping, just that it sounds better when you have an reason to say cheers. So like I was saying, it all started with everyone heading to a friends house to warm up for the party ahead. A few drinks down and causal chat turned into rapid banter and as the number of attendees rose, led to hysterics. Random posing for photos with vague while urging the ladies to groom themselves faster kept the boys busy. The night’s destination was Rock Bottom, a suburban discotheque, also instinctively christened Bock Rottom by a certain enthusiastic Parsi friend of ours. Personally, I prefer the latter with extra emphasis on the double t’s. Once there, it took us a while to get grooving. Fat old son once again took initiative in the field he has the most expertise…..directing people to the bar! A couple of beers down, and our bodies began to sway gracefully to the music, once again lead by Fat old Son, who took to the floor faster than a man to a naked woman. To say a word about the music….hmmmmm….it sucked! Don’t these Dj’s ever listen to the music themselves before subjecting us to it? One look at them on their pedestals doing the not-so-cool hip hop moves makes you want to fling something hard at them. However we didn’t let their lack of talent dampen our spirits and we shook and boogied the night away. As the night turned into a very late night, it brought an end to an enjoyable evening, and a start to the constant stress of being caught by cops for drunken driving, or worse by our moms!




A natural poser, isnt he??



K...not so natural now..!!!



Hmmmm...what was i thinking while posing for this?????



Shiny happy...drunk people..



Fat old son.. wondering why the hell am i subjecting them to this torture..!!!!

Some Pics from Me Phone: Goa Trip

These are the pics of my Goa trip in July (I guess). I rate this trip as one of my best simply because it wasn't season so everything was cheap, the beaches were empty and plus Minni was sponsoring. I was also a slaried man now, so I had the license to spend. Goa had just been hit by torrential rains, the repercussions of which were felt the next day.

As usual it started off when I heard myself say, "I don't believe I'm doing this!" Minni and Hem called me on a Thursday evening asking me for an account number to deposit money so that I can leave the next day. I emotionaly blackmailed Leo-our absconding-when-in-mumbai friend to join me on this weekend escapade convincing him that Minni is sponsoring the trip. So I get up on Thursday morning, pack my bags, wish my folks good bye, call my office to report in sick and have a conference call with the people in manipal and Leo to decide if we should take the bus or the train to reach Panjim. At the end of the protracted discussion, Leo and me had already reached Kurla and found ourselves parked in the AC compartment of the train (A first for me while going to Goa, I must admit).

Somewhere in the Konkan


Crossing at Kolad


A view of Kolad Station
(This was strange 'coz a month later I found myself chilling at an adventure camp with my sooper coool colleagues somewhere close by. Coincidence? Super-intelligent-intuitive-woman-colleague does think so)



At 1 that morning we arrived at Madgaon and found the rest of the gang chillin near the tea stall on the 1st platform. And after some futile bargaining, we hailed two cabs (All of us - a total of 9 people wanted to enter one vehicle) for Anjuna, our favorite hunting ground. Goa had been subjected to incessant rain and strong winds. I was happily recounting EW's and my experiences in Mumbai to the driver as nobody else cared to listen. We knocked on Mary's Guest House at around 4 in the morning and went straight to our rooms. Smokes and chillums followed till around 6 and we left the shelter of our rooms in search of some tea. But Goa being Goa, we didn't find any tea and ended up drinking beer instead. At around 9 we scored and the madness began.

Mary's in the morning
(Each of us is wondering what to do next as the rains had stopped for some time)



Beer at 6:30 in the morning
(If you look closely, Leo is indicating 6, Hem has 3 marked out and Minni is displaying 0)


Mary's from the outside
(I'm sure Mary's guest house is famous with MITians)


Anjuna as seen from Hanuman Shack


From l to r: Vani, Farah & Mimi(Strange name & strange woman)


Leo in Sepia
(I wish I knew how to rotate this using code: Oye! flash guy come here! It's good to be king. Oh even he doesn't know)


Our trip took us here, there and everywhere around Anjuna and after having our fill, we left for Baga. My trip ended when I saw the rough seas and rougher pot bellied men of all Indian colours patrolling the beaches. We spent some time at Souzas where we realized that Minni had run out of money and my salary for the month had not yet come. We called up each and every Tom Dick and Harry we knew to start deposioting money and some people did help. Some people were wondering how we can spend all our money and some simply screamed and hung up. Wow! But everything happens for the best and my sal came in by 7, so to celebrate, we made Hem take a pilot back to Anjuna to reinstate our supplies. Sending Hem was a pert of my plan to convince Leo to travel to Manipal from there. At around 8 in the evening Hem was found happily smiling, with a king's in one hand and a strip of my fav: N's in the other plus a assortment of other things totally banned by law. No more convincing was required for me. I spoke to Leo in my sweetest toungue and at the heights of the N trip. It took some time but Leo relented in the end. I heard myself say once again, "I don't believe I'm doing this!" and ended up catching the night train to Manipal.

I woke up to vociferous cries of "Chut! u were supposed to wake us up." Hem was almost at blows with Jabs (Who looked just as sleepy as me. And there is no mention of him earlier because somehow he was not part of our group at all and he conned me, yes me, off monies. I do not forget nor forgive such guys. So did Mimmi but I'm sure the amount of Special K she does will get her anyways. So I leave her to Satan). Yeah! we did end up at M'lore and then caught a bus to reach Manipal in time as the girls had their classes at 8 in the morn. This was Saturday I guess. Forgive my lack of sense of time. We did manage to make it and when we reached our rooms, the news reader was mentioning something about floods, landslides between Goa and Manglore. We know why we reached Manglore but how was the biggest mystery. Anyways here we were stuck in 'Home Sweet Home'. Popped a blotter in the morning, then another one at night and left by flight on Sunday, absolutely clueless about how I reached Mumbai (I was carrying a tola in my wallet which was screened twice because I was carrying 3 bottles from Goa. Freakishly insane experience I tell you, sweaty palms et al.) But the trip was worth every freakin' penny.

So if you ever hear yourself say "I don't believe I'm doing this!" don't worry and just chill. Everythings gonna be alright...just get up stand up...alright gotta go...