There is always something special about doing a thing for the first time and if it’s pleasant, we reminisce the moment for the rest of our lives. For example: First Kiss, First Bungee Jump, First Lottery Win, First Cricket Bat, the first time we achieve something worthwhile and of course, our First Drink. The feeling inside, while we are drinking for the first time; that tinge of excitement, since we really don’t know what to expect: how it feels to drink, unless… we lift our glass and drink!
Being a ‘First Drunk’!
After that, it becomes a story.
Funny. Not so funny. Memorable.
And we are willing to share it with anyone who has showed, sometimes unknowingly, an inkling of an interest.
Today, we will tell you two such stories, two wonderful experiences, according to their own admission, of two very lovely people.
Raj, as he is fondly called by his friends, was 26 when he tasted Red Wine. He just had got promoted and wished to celebrate. So he called the friends one by one.
“Let’s not care about the budget,” he hollered on the phone, “Let’s drink.” throwing his Indian middle class caution to the wind. Friends, being well wishing and appreciative couldn’t help themselves anymore. The hope of free drinks had made everyone very enthusiastic.
The Hidden Place on Koregaon Park road was the place.
Once they reached there and were seated, a long discussion ensued, about the impending order of the drinks.
Atul was a pro.
He suggested something which was difficult to pronounce and impossible to spell.
Anish, the semi-pro, seconded it.
The others were yet to experience wine. They felt relieved that the decision had been made for them, their ignorance about wine remaining unknown to all. Their support for Atul and Anish was as genuine as the occasion demanded.
The waiter brought a red wine. Everyone waited with bated breath. The bottle was showed off like cherished photograph in an old album. It glowed against the table light heightening the anticipation. Even the uncorking was elaborate as if it’s a celebration in itself.
The drink was poured. The clink was made. Raj’s ongoing success was insured with heartfelt wishing and blessing.
Raj drank it and was speechless. The aroma of it, the taste of it, how it changed its texture every second inside the mouth, how it remained there lingering. Taking him to a completely different zone altogether. An unusual silence fell over the table. As if the drink sort of calmed them down.
Raj felt so entirely different and classy that he could drink three glasses of wine slowly.
Nowadays, he is such a fan that he spends first 10 minutes in every fine dine restaurant he goes to, searching for a sommelier. And, in case, the blessed soul is employed there and appears to meet him, Raj asks him with a confidence of a new convert, “May I have a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, please.”
Haripriya is one such lady who always wishes to surprise her loved ones; pleasantly of course. On her first anniversary she took her husband to Raigad Fort on foot as she is fond of trekking. Boy, was the poor man surprised! The first anniversary is always a memorable moment. Haripriya made it kind of unforgettable.
During the second anniversary Haripriya faced with a full blown dilemma. To go or not to go. To a trek again. Her husband, a lot wiser, was not co-operating. He said, “The client is mean, the boss is thick, I can’t escape, honey, no matter how much I wish to.” He looked helpless in his earnestness. Helplessness doesn’t move Haripriya. But the logistic problem of dragging an unwilling adult man was enormous. She gave up. Though only partially.
She called up Shruti. Yeah, the same Shruti, the classy and sophisticated lady from our second blog. You see, when someone is up for some mischief, Shruti insists to be a partner in that crime. That’s her standing request.
Shruti said, “One word. Semillon Sauvignon Blanc. Sorry, three! Who cares?”
The husband, Harish, was a teetotaler. The celebrated white wine was a little beyond him. But who could refuse a wife on an anniversary, especially when she could let go her cherished dream of climbing tall hills together. And Harish was particularly hoping to bask in an after dinner spousal warmth.
Haripriya said- the disappointments from the ‘couldn’t be’ adventure still lingering in her tone- “I haven’t drank before. You haven’t drank before. So, we are in it together. Like the last year’s trek.”
Harish’s calf muscles and other precious bones and body parts, now recovered, yet with painful memories woke up startled and whispered, “Take it. Please take it. You ‘ve got a far better deal.”
The drink was poured. Harish was hopeful. He had read somewhere women become a little more receptive to ideas after a drink or two. It’s time to test the theory.
To make a long story short. Harish liked the wine. The buzz that came flying inside the head was never too much, never too quick. The taste and the afterglow he felt was quite nice too. Most probably it was the same with Haripriya. To the shrewd accountant eyes of Harish, his wife was responsible for more than half of the spending of the evening.
What happened afterwards? We almost shouldn’t say. But, Haripriya slept. No, really. She actually, peacefully slept. So did Harish. A little unwillingly though.
Who knows, next anniversary they might rather climb Kalsubai. Nothing could be said just right now.