Many winters ago, when I was back to being a full time student, I was this stuck up, FOB, conservative (bordering judgmental) desi who would scrunch up her nose at the sight of women smoking (oh yea! with all my equalist theories now...). Who has never had women friends before who would drink. Or had any friends before anyway who danced when they were happy. I had a lot of friends who used to learn Bharatanatyam, but I am sure that doesnt count in the coolness quotient. :-)
So here I was- first time with the whole class- out at a pub. It was a class party. There was a ManU Vs Chelsea match going on. People were drinking, laughing and dancing. And me.... I was struggling with a stupid dress I wore thinking it was "pub wear". The more comfy me today would have been happier with a pair of jeans. I looked out of place and I looked like I could do with a truck load of fibre. :-) Constipated is the only word that comes to my mind now.
Yea- We played truth and dare. I was the timid person who did neither. By then I picked an OJ on the rocks (and nothing else in it...) and settled next to the DJ. Actually no DJ. I just loved the way the sentence rhymed just now. :-) I just sat next to the projector. I could veer away from the crowd and got my bolt hole. So near, so far.
I was intrigued with football. I started cheering with the crowd for ManU. Maybe the red attracted me. It was my first match where I was actively participating in the play. I was curious. I was biting my tiny nails almost. And in the next few minutes, I was with the crowd who were people like me openly shouting. And cheering. And thumping the tables. That's when I recognized a classmate of mine in the crowd. Another person who switched off from the class and on to the crowd.
He noticed me and we exchanged a shy smile and acknowledgement of the situation. And then he came along and said , "10 quids say Chelsea wins". The challenging side of me woke up. The wild me. The raucous me. The idiotic me. The foolish me. I made a leap and a pounce to the bait. "here you go, 10 quids, but remember 20 will be mine when you see ManU wins and takes the pants of your C"..
I lost 10 quids the day. But who cares?? The loss came in with a lot of fun. Exhilaration. Excitement. Rush. I paid a price. I was most happy paying that price. It was worth everything and more. It taught me to bet. On life. And it taught me to be ok to lose. In life.
I would still bet. Maybe not on ManU. :-) BUT.
So here I was- first time with the whole class- out at a pub. It was a class party. There was a ManU Vs Chelsea match going on. People were drinking, laughing and dancing. And me.... I was struggling with a stupid dress I wore thinking it was "pub wear". The more comfy me today would have been happier with a pair of jeans. I looked out of place and I looked like I could do with a truck load of fibre. :-) Constipated is the only word that comes to my mind now.
Yea- We played truth and dare. I was the timid person who did neither. By then I picked an OJ on the rocks (and nothing else in it...) and settled next to the DJ. Actually no DJ. I just loved the way the sentence rhymed just now. :-) I just sat next to the projector. I could veer away from the crowd and got my bolt hole. So near, so far.
I was intrigued with football. I started cheering with the crowd for ManU. Maybe the red attracted me. It was my first match where I was actively participating in the play. I was curious. I was biting my tiny nails almost. And in the next few minutes, I was with the crowd who were people like me openly shouting. And cheering. And thumping the tables. That's when I recognized a classmate of mine in the crowd. Another person who switched off from the class and on to the crowd.
He noticed me and we exchanged a shy smile and acknowledgement of the situation. And then he came along and said , "10 quids say Chelsea wins". The challenging side of me woke up. The wild me. The raucous me. The idiotic me. The foolish me. I made a leap and a pounce to the bait. "here you go, 10 quids, but remember 20 will be mine when you see ManU wins and takes the pants of your C"..
I lost 10 quids the day. But who cares?? The loss came in with a lot of fun. Exhilaration. Excitement. Rush. I paid a price. I was most happy paying that price. It was worth everything and more. It taught me to bet. On life. And it taught me to be ok to lose. In life.
I would still bet. Maybe not on ManU. :-) BUT.
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