So what are you doing this New Year's Eve?
Welcome to December, the most beautiful time of year; it is a time for Christmas, or as we call it in India, 'weddings'.
Everyone is happy, because winter is here, wherein the word 'here' is defined as everywhere in India except Mumbai, where it is only A-Little-Less-Summer.
And as we hurtle towards December 31, everyone's talking about beautiful things that don't really exist like Santa Claus, elves, and New Year's Eve parties that are actually good.
There is no such thing as a good New Year's Eve party, and if such a thing exists, I've never been to one. The best I've managed is skipping the worst party in the world. I sat at home and watched TV while my friends went to a 'cruise party' which was supposed to be on a cruise liner with 'sun-decks', or as they're called at midnight, decks, three hookah bars and an artificial beach.
They paid Rs 3,000 a pop for this privilege, except when they got there, they realised the 'liner' was an Alibaug ferry with one lump of sand in a corner, and enough space to seat three. There was also a bar, but by the time my friends arrived, the rioters had already set it on fire and thrown it into the sea.
In their defense, this was probably better than the party that would have no doubt unfolded if it had happened. Because every single New Year's Eve party has a template.
Where's the party? As New Year's eve edges closer, the question on
everyone's mind is where to party. Representation pic
A thousand people gather at a venue that holds 300. For some reason, everyone wears a suit, afraid that the year won't change if they don't dress formally for it. There is an open bar that promises the finest bottles of alcohol on the planet.
The bottles are in fact truly fine. The alcohol inside them on the other hand, tastes like it was distilled in the bartender's armpit four minutes ago. And just when you think things can't get any worse, the alcohol runs out.
In the history of human partying (and if you've ever read the x-rated bits of Greek-ism, you know it's a long timeline) nothing has caused more trouble for parties than alcohol running out. I don't think nomadic tribes spread for food and shelter. I think the beer ran out, and they decided they wanted to go look for more.
A party that runs out of alcohol is very similar to a collapsing star. When a star collapses in on itself, it doesn't just disappear. It creates something far worse, and more dangerous. When alcohol runs out at a party, it creates two dangerous sets of people.
1) The 30 people that drank all of it.
2) The 300 people that didn't get any because of the ones who drank all of it.
People at parties who don't get alcohol feel a gaping void in their soul, and they fill it instead with the desire to punch somebody in the face.
Luckily for them, the people who drank up all the alcohol provide them with enough opportunity to do exactly that. The drunk people provoke the sober ones, usually with vomit, most of which is targeted at some part of the sober person's garments. Or girlfriends.
The resultant punch-up takes about half an hour to clean up, by which time it's already 12:15, and you've missed the midnight hour and the chance to loot the back of the bar while no-one's looking. So then you decide you want to go home, and so you do. Except you don't get there until next afternoon, because that's when the valet brings you your car.
But it's okay, because while you wait, you can relax and put your feet up on one of the drunk men lying passed out in the bushes. On the way home, you'll drive past other friends who were at similar parties, and have now been stuck in traffic at the same place long enough to be arrested for illegal squatting.
By the time you get home, you're cranky, you stink of someone else's vomit, and are hungover without ever actually getting drunk. Your New Year is 12 hours old and it's about as happy as a burning dog-shelter.
So take my advice this New Year's Eve. Get out of town. Or stay home with friends. The booze won't run out, you won't have to deal with traffic, and nobody named Rocky (short for 'Rocky') will attempt to molest your girlfriend.
You'll also have the best time of your life. If you still want to go out and party though, I know of this great party on a cruise-liner. Get in touch for tickets!
Rohan Joshi is a writer and stand-up comedian who likes reading, films and people who do not use the SMS lingo