I woke up to what might have been the chirping of sparrows that perched by the window to my right. Hungover with nausea i tried recalling the events of last night, still incomprehensive of the berth and the unfamiliar room. I made an effort to sit up and felt the muscles ache all over my bag of bones, it was a dry pain that made me squint hard in order to squeeze out the strength in my forearms for support. The sparrow was still there chirping away occasionally shifting around, it's snappy movements hard for the normal eye to follow and even more for someone in a hangover. I raised my hand towards it playfully twirling my fingers with an effort, and did something awkward yet personal that i had an habit of since i could ever remember, clasping my fingers at the bird as if to hide it from my vision and then slowly loosening them to reveal the little creature, as if i was playing peekaboo with it. Also occasionally forming a ring out of them and looking through at the bird, when suddenly I heard two soft knocks from my left and became aware of the door in the room. The bird took flight immediately and i put my hand down as swiftly as possible at the same time, completely dismissing the lingering pain because of the sudden found awkwardness that i had to give the priority to. It was x, wearing a piercing grin with arms crossed and his back leaned against the adjacent door.
"Good Morning asshole.", He sounded accusing. "Wa-what ?", I said wearing a frown, not because i felt offended from the way he addressed me but that I was still overwhelmed with the awkwardness that weighed on me since my event with the bird, which made it even harder for me to perceive whatever x was referring to. "You owe me a new table, i suppose", He demanded, and my eyes widened, slowly raising my head to look up, my mind rewinding, it was all coming back.
Last night we were destined to experience the wildest party ever, or so we imagined. A flash of beverages and i'm r
aving with the other guys, y was shirtless with his groovy long hair clogged with dripping sweat that often brushed and whipped us, a reason why no one went near him in the mosh pits. Z had passed out and was lying face flat on the floor, he was wearing nothing except his navy blue underwear, people were often tripping around him, even trampling him. I faintly remember x sitting by the bean bags at one corner. There were few other guys, friends of x, faces that i didn't recognize but probably had been introduced to earlier. It was x's stereo that was blasting The Stooges' second album 'fun house' on full volume. Iggy pop's raspy and hypnotic vocals were manipulating us into transcending the ethereal frenzy, it blew me away, it was so powerful that i felt my muscular tendons getting ripped with the bassline. I felt as if i was becoming some kind of a monster. I broke out of the rave and screaming harshly, rushed to pick up my electric yameha guitar that i had brought and started strumming it unplugged furiously, raving around with it, trying to mimic Ron Asheton's guitar. I jumped on the dining table, no one seemed to care, x got up and paced towards me with fast steps. " fuck, stop that A or someone might get hurt", I was too occupied even to notice that he had come up to me. "A, That is not your goddamn table". I kept raving away, "Abey bhosdike, can't you hear, your nuts won't be in the same place if i get up there". I was busy riffing to the solo. He climed up and proceeded to grab hold of my guitar.
"Give that to me !"
"Fuck off, this is the best part", i started fidgeting as soon as he grabbed the fret board.
He was wrestling with me,"My brother is.. going to clobber me.... aarggh... if you don't stop..", and we slipped, we felt the wood under our feet go down along with us, as if time had slowed down, i saw the ceiling above moving away and Iggy's lyrics still ringing in my ears. "Callin' from the fun house with my song/We been separated baby far too long./Callin' all you whoop-de pretty things./Shinin' in your freedom come and be my rings." A bang, and then everything turned to black.
"Good Morning asshole.", He sounded accusing. "Wa-what ?", I said wearing a frown, not because i felt offended from the way he addressed me but that I was still overwhelmed with the awkwardness that weighed on me since my event with the bird, which made it even harder for me to perceive whatever x was referring to. "You owe me a new table, i suppose", He demanded, and my eyes widened, slowly raising my head to look up, my mind rewinding, it was all coming back.
Last night we were destined to experience the wildest party ever, or so we imagined. A flash of beverages and i'm r
aving with the other guys, y was shirtless with his groovy long hair clogged with dripping sweat that often brushed and whipped us, a reason why no one went near him in the mosh pits. Z had passed out and was lying face flat on the floor, he was wearing nothing except his navy blue underwear, people were often tripping around him, even trampling him. I faintly remember x sitting by the bean bags at one corner. There were few other guys, friends of x, faces that i didn't recognize but probably had been introduced to earlier. It was x's stereo that was blasting The Stooges' second album 'fun house' on full volume. Iggy pop's raspy and hypnotic vocals were manipulating us into transcending the ethereal frenzy, it blew me away, it was so powerful that i felt my muscular tendons getting ripped with the bassline. I felt as if i was becoming some kind of a monster. I broke out of the rave and screaming harshly, rushed to pick up my electric yameha guitar that i had brought and started strumming it unplugged furiously, raving around with it, trying to mimic Ron Asheton's guitar. I jumped on the dining table, no one seemed to care, x got up and paced towards me with fast steps. " fuck, stop that A or someone might get hurt", I was too occupied even to notice that he had come up to me. "A, That is not your goddamn table". I kept raving away, "Abey bhosdike, can't you hear, your nuts won't be in the same place if i get up there". I was busy riffing to the solo. He climed up and proceeded to grab hold of my guitar.
"Give that to me !"
"Fuck off, this is the best part", i started fidgeting as soon as he grabbed the fret board.
He was wrestling with me,"My brother is.. going to clobber me.... aarggh... if you don't stop..", and we slipped, we felt the wood under our feet go down along with us, as if time had slowed down, i saw the ceiling above moving away and Iggy's lyrics still ringing in my ears. "Callin' from the fun house with my song/We been separated baby far too long./Callin' all you whoop-de pretty things./Shinin' in your freedom come and be my rings." A bang, and then everything turned to black.
The table now looked more suited for rafting down the river, the legs in pieces and cracks were all over the woodwork. I had paused scratching my head, and was staring at the pile fixedly. "Why do you seem so concerned ? Your guitar is perfectly fine after all.", x said sarcastically from behind as he brought me a glass of coffee, i turned around to find my guitar placed against the wall, hands exchanged the glass, "I fucked up", i mumbled while staring at the blotch of white that revolved around the brown in my coffee,
"Atleast i'm glad that you realized it , finally", he said.
"Atleast i'm glad that you realized it , finally", he said.
