Meeting your friend at a wedding with a skinny looking girl holding his hand is not pleasant. You hold your glass for a minute just to recall time you spent with that friend. The days both use to taste dirty papers bought from “Petta” by some boy in school for an expensive price and Lion larger beer stolen from “Thathas” party started teasing. On that day excitement lasted until we caught up by my friends elder sister. In order to refrain parents getting to know “beer” and “paper” incident had to do some delivery work. It was ordered to deliver love letters to guy living three blocks away by “lokku akka” as a ransom. We had no alternative other than caring love letters to that swollen headed fellow. He always behaves like sitting on gravity of wisdom and thinking as a genius just because he went to University of Moratuwa (UoM).
For me bugger is nothing more than a pure “pandithaya” with thousand talks. I was happy his UoM skill was tampered like an infant by my friend’s “lokku akka” with her O/L knowledge and gossip powers collected during her Balika Vidyalaya. That undeniable pretty glares and radio Ceylon voice must been kicking his swollen skull. During those days I used to think if we can somehow let her talks to trouble maker rebellious leader “prabakaran” for few minutes. That rebellious would gives up fighting and fallen love with “looku Akka” and probably raise babies for a cricket team. The thing Harvard brilliance cannot deliver might achievable though her gossip brilliance. Sometime these are sustainable solutions as you don’t want to worry too much again and again.
“Hey machan, how’s the thing going?” I polish the glass with my thumb as I inviting him for a drink.
“I’m good, how about you? This is my future wife keshini and she is from kandy .” My friend said.
“Hello ….” She giggled with wide open mouth. Perfect signal advertisement.
“Good machan” I shake her hand . Soft tiny hand remind me my ex.
I muttered. “Just normal things mate working , working no time to enjoy like good old days”
I sense the temptation in my fellow mate’s eyes. The eagerness to taste distilled water invented by Greek alchemists during first century AD. From then poor creature living among asking water.
“Would you like to join me for few drinks?”
Keshani’s smile disappeared as she started questioning the authenticity of signal advertisement.
The frowning “wenda wife ” looks much younger than my friend. May be eight years or may be even more. she caries feminism beauty for her elegant saree and glamour jewelry. The things one should consider as womans friend and man’s foe.
I take another shot while she gathers breath to speak.
“I’m sorry he is not drinking now” Keshani continually frowning at my glass ready to send a bullet.
My friend looks at his love of life pleasing manner, even a street beggar would raise much firm look on his customers. This guy seems lost his pride unlike those days when both were able to hug each other without hitting belly. Unlike her elder sister this guy lost control of his ship. This pirate woman took over main control while my lad took over the kitchen and bathroom with additional hours of working with no bonus or overtime.
“Come on keshani, this is a party. I don’t let him to have more than one short ok”
She looked at my glass. Hold her fiancé hand.
“You know from the day I met him promised never drink again” Keshani soften her voice.
“We used to drink together before you met him”
I took one more shot to make my glass empty. She looked at me angrily. Perfect, I’m ready to fire bullets now.
“When last time we drank together, you were a Montessori child chasing lizards with or without a panties somewhere in kandy. So don’t hold this poor lizard too much”
My friend’s future wife remains stunned. She looks furiously towards me.
“Kesha, just let him to have company for a few minutes, You keep him entire night I don’t mind”
If crying is an Olympic event for both genders woman would beat men comprehensively. My friend looked at Keshani softly knowing that she is about to cry.
“machan I’m sorry , I don’t know what made her offensive” I saw the mismatch.
“Its ok, I ll catch you latter , I got to go mate”.
Kesha seems pretty once he told those words. She wins and I loose.
Sometimes missing your buddy is far worse than missing your girl. The good old days use to play, eat, joke, and drink together. But when you encounter woman like “ Kesha” as wife anybody may resist the appetite to keep his family together. More than that it’s missing good times. Drinking is no romance, it’s the time spent together. Missing memories will hurt you more than enough.
“Hey see yo machan “ I said , tone would looks like Mahela Jayawardhana in T20 world cup presentation. Defeated.
Do I want to fill this glass again.