Drunk Elephants

People say that childhood is the time when you create your dreams, and your twenties and thirties is spent living them. Adolescent girls and boys often stare in awe at the cool demeanor of the impeccably dressed men and women walking past them with their glamorous clothes, the drinks in their hands and the poise they display when having a conversation. The confidence and elegance exuded by these individuals in their seemingly perfect life filled with success, beauty and luxury is the reason many young adolescents inadvertently make them their role models with the only thought being, 'One day, I want to be as that cool as they are’. That is why these children decide to launch themselves into a rat race that throws them obstacles throughout the course, both big and small, hoping they’ll be able to reach the pinnacles of their own success the same way their role models did. But what they don’t know is that those perfect and successful lives aren’t what they seem to be, and once you enter the race to achieving your goals, it never ends. Not really.

I always found the world of literature to be fascinating. It truly is a remarkable gift to be able to transport someone from their living room into an alternate reality where anything can happen just by adding a few sentences. And the best thing is, while it may be the words of some author thousands of kilometres away, those words have the ability to make you see and feel things that you’ve never have before in your reading spot. Humor, joy, love and loss, can all be elicited by the imagination of a story and its unique visualization in your mind. Thousands of people might have read it, but everyone has a unique sense of being thus creating a thousand different versions of the very same story. That is the beauty of reading, and I’ve been sucked into it permanently since the ripe age of nine.

Books always gave me a sense of calm and belonging in an environment which constantly seems to test my limits to induce a nervous breakdown. Anxiety and fear of peer pressure ended up turning me into an introvert with barely any friends or social skills, and so I spent a majority of school life being lonely despite the large number of students surrounding me. Sitting in a corner and trying to muster the courage to go and speak to someone often left me shaking in my shoes, and even if I did manage to, I never made it past a few sentences without stuttering. So I became known as the weirdo who seemed to have her tongue in knots, and was bullied relentlessly because everyone knew I didn’t have the guts to complain to the teachers.

So when everyone else played in the court and on the grounds with their friends, I would be in the library. The librarian saw me in there so frequently that she’d allow me to borrow an extra book from time to time, and maybe even sneak in a snack. And when I wasn’t in the library, I’d hide the book under the desk during class and continue to read discretely. I’ve lost count of the times I’d wait for my parents to walk out of the room while I was doing homework to pull out a book from beneath my textbooks and reread a novel I was obsessed with. Books became the bread and butter to my soul and connected me to some of the greatest minds in the world. Very soon, my storage drawers became visibly full as I’d get more books for each passing birthday and Christmas. Austen, Dickens and Tolkien are just a few of them, and if I had to go through the entire list, we’d be stuck here for a really long time.  The companionship and safety that these entities made of ink and paper give me are like no other, and that’s why my childhood dream was to be a writer.

But life doesn’t grant your wishes like it’s a free diamond ring from Tiffany’s. Which is why I’m scrolling through my Instagram feed on a Friday night in the rattiest pair of sweat pants I own with Chinese takeout instead of partying or having a hot date. Just as I’m about to start a movie on my laptop, I hear my roommate entering through the front door.

“Hey there M, please tell me that’s kung pao chicken and fried rice I smell and there’s some for me!” Poonam yells and walks unceremoniously into my bedroom. "Yes, there is, and there’s also some extra spicy spring rolls since you love them so much”. "Wow, thank you soo much! You are the best roommate a girl could have. Which movie are you putting on?” “I’m in the mood for some Brad Pitt. Does Inglorious Basterds sound good to you? I was just going to hit the play button,” I reply while reaching for the Bluetooth speakers.” Gimme a sec, I’ll change into my cosies and be right back. Don’t miss me too much”, she says while sending a flying kiss through the air. Meanwhile, I decide to reply back to some of the memes that my brother had sent earlier.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you sitting on your bedroom floor like a loser when you should be at Harry’s with Rohit and your work buddies? I thought tonight was supposed to an office bonding night filled with cocktails and dancing”, Poonam says as she walks back in a pair of unicorn pajamas, matching fuzzy socks and a big bottle of red wine. “I mean, I know you love being by yourself but you have to be a socially interactive person so that you can communicate more effectively, especially at work.” “Well, I’ll survive being deprived of an after work meetup and not socializing with people who I spend eight hours a day with. Besides, they’ll be many of those in the future. If I start joining those now, I’ll be obligated to attend the rest of them. I would prefer tonight be a calm and peaceful evening, with me, my overthinking brain, and now you. And don’t say that you don’t enjoy hanging out with my fabulous self after a long day at work, because I know you do”, I reply with a grin as I make space for her on the floor.

“Whatever, you weirdo. Say as many excuses as you want but you can’t fool anyone but yourself. OK then, let’s feast! But first, here is some cheap red wine for you M.” “And what is the occasion exactly?” I ask dubiously while taking my clearly over filled glass from her. She plops down next to me and grins saying, “Maya, it’s Friday. It’s the beginning of the weekend which means the only reason we need to open our laptops is to admire the physique of ridiculously handsome British actors and drink without caring for the hangover the next day. Plus, I don’t have to look at the ugly mural they’ve put up on the main office board room wall for 2 whole days! Seriously, it’s like a distorted mess of a paint cans gone wild. Hence, we must celebrate it and liven up our moods! I’m not saying we need to go club hopping or anything, but we can definitely have a party of our own. Now drink already, it’s just one glass”, she scolds and takes a bite of her dinner. “Alright, I’m not saying no but my liver is definitely against this becoming a regular thing, which I know you’re going to do sooner or later”, I reply with an eye roll and start the movie.

In about 30 minutes, the food was gone and our glasses were empty. A half hour after that, we were prancing around my bed with socks loosely attached to our heads and singing Katy Perry songs, Brad Pitt completely forgotten at the side. So much for trying to stick to a restriction of one glass, as I glance at the now empty bottle. “Look Maya, can you guess what I am?!” screams a very inebriated Poonam with a sock over the tip of her nose. Thankfully, all the socks we took were clean. The idiot nearly chugged half the bottle down halfway through the movie and then started dancing like a squirrel is being electrocuted. After seeing and recording the terribly hilarious scene (because I do need some embarrassing Instagram content for her next birthday), I took some inspiration. I chugged the remainder of my glass down and probably had another glass or two, and joined her in her shenanigans. “I think you resemble a…… fruit! Maybe a mango?”, I reply after inspecting her face and giggling. “No, you dunce! Can’t you see that I’m an elephant?! Wait, let’s a sock on your nose too!” She drags me to the mirror and places the sock on my nose. "See, now we look like twins!” and she starts making me dance while I’m cry laughing my heart out. After what seemed liked ages, we both collapsed on my bed and Poonam immediately zonked out.

I’m running my hands through my now messy curls which must’ve gotten out of the top knot I’d tied earlier sometime during all the dancing, when I see that my brother is video calling me. I swipe my hand over the screen and accept the call. “Hi Kenny! What’s my big brother up to?”, I say with a goofy smile. “Maya, have you been drinking?”, my brother asks with concern. “Poonam said we should celebrate the weekend. Honestly it’s the best idea she’s had all week, apart from buying that new granola which has mixed berries and roasted almonds in them”, I reply with a slur. “And why do you and Poonam have socks on your faces?”, he questions me with a somewhat withered look. “We were being the dancing elephants of Mumbai.” “Well sis, right now you’ll resemble drunk elephants more than anything else. Anyway, I just thought I’d call up to check on you. I’m doing the night shift this week so I’m stuck in the hospital till 8 AM. Goodnight my drunk little elephant, I’ll speak to you when you’re not soaring among wine clouds. And don’t forget to drink plenty of water in the morning. Poonam too.” “Goodnight Kenny, don’t worry, next time when I’m at your place for dinner…... we can both be drunk elephants,” I reply sleepily. He chuckles and disconnects the call. I remove the socks off mine and Poonam’s faces, put my phone on the nightstand, and turn off the light. I cuddle against Poonam who is snoring softly with my teddy tucked near her chest, pull the covers over the both of us and drift off to sleep.

That night, I dreamt of baby elephants dancing with Brad Pitt in the zoo.