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by Ahona Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Personal · #2073838
The title is self explanatory
This is the story of my first drink.
I went on my "first" trip with my friends from college. Yes I had my first drink when I was in college. Yes it's very normal here in my country, as a matter of fact, we are the cool ones here. The ones who had their first drink at the age of 22 you ask?That's right! You think that's sad? Just try to guess the number of virgins in this age range here. Actually, try to guess the number of types of virgin here.
So my first drink. It was whisky. The bottle cost some 1600 taka. The cheapest one we could get. We didn't include booze in our budget so that explains the cheap booze.
We had two pegs each. There were 7 of us.
Ashiq, Zahid, Shoily, Shams, Motu and Mahir.
5 friends, one boyfriend.

Mahir,my boyfriend, who had had his first drink before ( I have a very cool boyfriend thank you very much) did the bartending stuff.
We didn't make a toast. Too excited for the first drink experience.
So my first drink. My very first drink of alcohol.I always wondered what kind of a drunk I would be. I never thought I would be " sit alone in the dark crying about everything that ever happened" kind. Which is exactly what I am. To be honest I was semi drunk. Para drunk. Whatever.
He was semi drunk too. Mahir. There I was sitting alone in the middle of the terrace. I was sitting trying to recall all the sad things I could think of. I had to find a reason to cry. It was a compulsion. The kid selling boiled eggs by the beach earlier this evening?
Yes jackpot. And wallahh!! I got welled up with tears of remorse and guilt. Why didn't I buy just one egg at least ! Why am i such an unkind person!
I felt so alone. I wanted someone to comfort me,yet I didn't.I wanted someone to ask me if I was okay but I also didn'tYou know the usual deal..I was pmsing at its best. I actually was pmsing now that I think of it. So was is just that or the booze?
Maybe both?

"You there little one?"(actually he said "picchi" which is informal bengali for small,also his nickname for me)
He sits down.Mahir I mean.
I smile and try to talk..
"Are you crying?"
And then i did. I bursted out.
He watches me cry.
He pats my head, stroks my cheek. And keeps watching me cry.
He says " now I know,what I signed up for.this."
He rarely says nice things like this.
I was sitting there ugly and oily and crying my eyeliner off.

He was smiling I noticed
" I am sorry but you look so cute when you cry, I cant help it."

I try to remember what he is saying. I have to remember. I am constantly in need of a happy place .I have to assemble what's here and scribble it down to remember it all. That's what I am doing right now.
He tries to lift me up then. We are both dizzy so we stumble.We laugh hard. He takes me by my hand and we sway to what he hums. I can't tell what it is. It's beautiful. It's a cold serene winter night by the sea.
With bits of his music in the air.
My happy place is wonderous.
He says "Hey! Stand up on my feet".I do and we both trip over. And laugh and laugh again.

I cannot deal with "the now".I am always sad during the now, and I look back and think how I was happier in the past.
But right at this moment, when he grabbed me by my foot and tried to drag me inside, I "carpe diemed". I was into the moment, I was feeling what to feel without a conscious part of me telling me how to react.
I was present there with all my molecules.I lived. I lived this one particular moment in life.
Well he kind of helped. He is nice to root down to.

This is all I remember.
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