In a given day, I hate alcohol for 22 hrs and rest…is self explanatory
When you encounter the pain that eats you from inside, there is a choice to make. More often than not, freedom to choose and hence the choice is the source of the pain, So it seems that the problem and solution are one and the same.
11.59 PM – South Woodford residential area
[Dog barks….silence for a while and the same barking sound]
11.59 PM – The buffalo Pub, Westbourne park road
[ A 0.44 magnum revolver fires, Music Stops, Crowd Screams]
11.40 PM – The buffalo Pub, Westbourne park road
Rob: Thats an interesting question , but before we start with that one, lets take care of the empty glasses, they don’t look too good
Ben: Couldn’t agree more
[Rob returns with four shots of Vodka]
Ben: [gets up, picks his shot and waits for Rob to pick up his] for our new found friendship, let it live beyond our lifetime
Rob: [nods his head] for our new found friendship
[glass bottoms hit the table with a clink]
Rob: you were saying ?
Ben: Oh! yes, I was saying, the mechanism of blood clot is just too sophisticated to happen by chance and this Darwin guy had convinced the whole world to believe in it
Rob: Inability to recognise a pattern is often confused with a problem regarding chance and choices
but nevethless the rules that govern the “chance world” holds true in such a scenario as well
Ben: What do you mean?
Rob: Have you heard of Russian roulette?
Ben: Oh!yes, a thrilling game of chance, you dont know, who is going to get killed
Rob: Precisely, thats because you dont know which chamber the fuckin’ bullet is going to be.
Now, you can argue that a particular bullet being in a particular chamber in a particular game is by chance or determined by some eternal forces
but as you rightly said, without that knowledge, we prefer to call it a game of chance
Ben: Well, I say, if we play the Russian roulette now, as if, a proof worth of it, that the whole shitty universe is deterministic, I should die
Rob: If you/we go with chance, I should die [Places the 0.44 magnum revolver on the table from his coat pocket]
Ben: [notices the shining object on the table]
Rob: Lets play the game, the “loser” gets the remaining two shots [points to the vodka shots]
[Both of them laugh]
9.00 PM – A coffee shop, Oxford street
Rob: [sipping the cold coffee] So tell me, what made you interested in that woman ?
Ben: A natural instinct, on my part, you can say
Rob: What made you, what you were?
Ben: Hmmm…initial Curiosity followed by a life long addiction
Rob: Do you also consider that “a natural instinct”?
Ben: How else can you explain?
Rob: Did you plan?
Ben: No. I followed a “surprise” strategy
Rob: I have a confession to make
Ben: [after a pause, sips his black coffee] I am waiting
Rob: I believed in chances, a chance to get rich, a chance to get what I wanted
Ben: [sips his coffee] go ahead
Rob: That belief was so strong that i didnt realize
I had lost everything I had in my life in the process, my woman, kids, job,anything else that you can imagine in the way of wordly means.
[sighs] Gambling is not very different, curiosity thus addiction
Ben: [keeps his cup down] What exactly, where you doing, I mean in terms of profession
Rob: A cop, a bloody, fuckin’ cop, who had a drinking problem, fired for wrong reasons, I should add.
8.30 PM – 45, Berkeley street
Rob: Hi, new here?
Ben: Yes, I wanted to know, what this is all about
Rob: Well, you’ll get used to it. I should tell you, your speech moved me.
Ben: Dont ridicule , It was from my heart
Rob: Probably why! Hey did you notice that women in the blue dress?
Ben: 41 minutes since she came in, Spoke on her mobile four times, Went to the restroom twice, rest of the time she was noticing that handsome guy in the second row
Rob: Impressive. What made you come here?
Ben: I am trying to figure out yet
7.45 PM – 45, Berkeley street
Ben:[adjusts the mike] Hi, I am Ben and I am an alchoholic
Crowd: Hi Ben
Ben: It is less than 48 hours, since I had my last drink. I do it….[pauses] I do it to ovecome my yet another addiction.
Yes, I am, atleast was a serial rapist. I felt remorseful and guilty after every time. I wanted to die but could not.
I wanted to kneel down before the angels of law and cry but could not. Nor that the elite police force of this country had any clue about me or what I was upto.
I was lonely, had no purpose in my life, atleast not anything that I could think of. In one of those purposeless moment, I saw my Angel.
That smile, those eyes, I was spellbound. It was a long time ago. It all vanished in the same speed as it appeared. But after that my addiction could not satisfy me any more. I am still in search of those eyes. I dont think it was a miracle. I want to beleive, it was bound to happen on that moment, as is this moment, where I am standing among strangers and sharing my intimate truths. I want to see, where this will lead me.
Crowd: [applauds with a standing ovation]
7.30 PM – 45, Berkeley Street
Ben: Hi, Is this the place where Alchoholic Anonymous meets?
Lady: Yes sir. You have come to the right place.
Question to the readers:
1. According to you, Who is “right”? therefore should/should not die, either by your philosophical affinity or “so called” value system?
2. If the convicted, whoever he is, be brought before the judicial system of her majesty, is it fair to reward a punishment or otherwise?
3. For a moment, let us assume that Ben is the convicted, what should the “noble” jury do? Are they any different from the AA group of Berkeley street ? If so, Why?
Everyone, who had come, in good spirits, acknowledged that it had been ages since they had such a good time. For the fear of being judged, I agreed too. The jokes ranged from first cigarettes to many of our sexual orientation. I laughed, very confidently, since the ‘mock tail’ spouses who had accompanied some of us seem to be having a good laugh at them as well. Some wise soul from the crowd declared why Little Italy was a perfect place for such a re-union and magnanimously ordered a re-fill for everyone. I repeated my favorite whiskey and added “unadulterated please”. This time the waiter acknowledged it with a wide grin as if he knew my whole past.
I was watching him walk away from our table. That’s when I noticed her. She was sitting in one of the “made for each other” table. On the table was a glass with mostly untouched red wine. Was she staring at it or into the emptiness beyond, I couldn’t tell. Her face amused me. I wondered, what would describe it best, cynicism or melancholy? Subsequently, another important question came to my mind, what would she order next? I was confident that both questions are related. The answer to one of them will lead me to the other. But which one should I solve first? I decided to wait for my next drink.
Lasagna was served at her table.
I kept staring at it for a long time.
Welcoming Mr.Commoner (myself) to WordPress.