Van Chitgo - The Art of Life

So, picture the scene...

Van Chitgough walks into one of his new favorite rock out joints in Delhi known as Café Morrisson at 9:30pm sharp on a Wednesday night. He is meeting dear friends T, T , T and Z who are, as always - late.
He jostles in to be greeted by grade school boys and girls with long hair, beads and napalm death t-shirts. Apparently there is a rock concert on. Death metal bands playing as part of the RSJ October fest. Cool...I wait my turn before grabbing the table next to the entrance and get lost in the music, which isn’t half bad from a distance...

There are 4 kids standing in front of me, kind of jumpy and from the looks of it- very young. First guess is class 10th (hence making them 16 or so)….the boys are thin and gangly - the kind one is at that age where ‘loose’ is a way of life. I should know, I had jeans that could fit an army of dhruvs- all at one time...….
Anyway, so they are kind of pushing each other and doing the things that children do – dropping beer on themselves, randomly tugging at each other in the sweet (slightly sickening) manner that post-adolescence hormones bring out. You know- the affection without being affectionate, the touch without touching blah blah. I am smiling to myself wondering just how I could have gone through that age and sipping my kingfisher in an air of wisdom and experience apt for someone like...

“Dhruv??? HEY!!! I didn’t see you ! how are you?”

Oh dear god. Remember the little band of children? One of them turns out to be a neighbor’s daughter who I have known since I was about 5 years old. Like literally playing on my lap, growing up in front of me, tiny thing..… Now, well, all grown up and all teenager like. She is slightly astonished of having bumped into me here. I'm wondering why? At first I’m playing it cool and then like a bolt of lightening it hits me, hard.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m the quintessential ‘bhaiiya’! The old dude who is the very LAST person you want to bump into when you’re 16 and knocking off beers with friends in a pub you shouldn’t be at. God damnit I remember this feeling!. Stolen glances would continue for the rest of the night as there is always the awe/fear of seeing someone 6 years (6 years!!!!) older to you chilling in the same club.

Oh my god. I am the old foggie/the foot in the grave/the guy whos' life you almost pity....

Just as I’m going through this little nostalgia trip in a half-melancholic/half-amused manner, one of the thin-boy like creatures who knows me from yesteryears (of when I used to kick him around) comes up to me and says “Dhruv, please don’t tell A’s mom that she was here, you understand right... " (wry smile appearing on face that is otherwise shared between 2 men). I look at the little fart, I almost lose my beer and I say “ofcourse kid, no worries”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Someone could have grabbed a gun and shot me in the shin and the pain would still have been considerably less then the realization that I can now officially be characterized as ‘that old guy’ :) don’t let the exaggeration worry you though, I wouldn’t go back to being 16 or 18 if I was paid for it. Those were great times, well spent, with all the law-breaking tomfoolery one can hope to have; but still..…the little dude had no mercy man. In one fleeting sentence he pushed me into the box that contained conversations with middle-aged ladies about the growing depravity witnessed in our younger generations and how rock music was poisoning our souls in a heady mix of alcohol and nicotine. Damn....

Flash forward to 20 years later where me and my hip-ass wife enter a club to find my teenage son going ballistic on the dance floor with 3 women...…oh the look on the poor boys face. I guess these are the hidden more sadistic joys of parenthood….

What? Cruel? Me?
Never…

Posted by chitgo on Tuesday, October 17, 2006 at 10/17/2006 10:21:00 AM | Permalink