The Decision!

It was two in the morning and Cherian was so drunk that he could hardly lift his hands to make another peg. Being an achayan, Cherian took pride in the fact that he was a veritable sponge when it came to alcohol but today, he had pushed his luck a bit too far.

“Damn, that bottle just has enough alcohol for another peg. I cannot believe that I have almost finished the bottle”, he thought to himself.

He lit his 17^th cigarette for the day, and watched as the white pungent fumes floated about the room. The room had hardly anything in it except for a few clothes strewn about, his laptop and his bed. Even though the room was brightly lit, it was so full of cigarette smoke and reeked of rum that it masked the bright ambience of the room.

Cherian was not a happy man. The world that he had created from scratch, his own world was disintegrating very slowly before his own eyes but he did not know what to do about that.

A software engineer in a respectable firm in Bangalore, he found that he had never felt lonelier in his life even when he was surrounded by people all the time. Unhappy with his professional life, unhappy with his personal life, he found peace in the “Old Monk” bottle that he emptied every single night, thus forcing himself to sleep.

He patiently survived those 8 to 10 hours in office, to reach home and drown his disappointment in alcohol/cigarettes and this vicious cycle had been going on for the past few months but the overwhelming fact that stood out to his close friends was that he had no reason to be so upset.

A good job, a good salary and a family that loved him, his friends kept constantly telling him that he was blessed but Cherian would not have any of it.

As he lit his 18^th cigarette for the day, he could feel the surge of nicotine once again hit his brain and realization sunk in that he was turning into a drunkard; a hopeless drunkard and he could only smile about it.

At that exact moment, his phone began to ring and he smiled to himself. It was his friend Ajit calling from America.

“Namaskaaram mothallali (Greetings Boss)”, said Cherian trying to sound normal.

There was a slight pause on the other end and Cherian found it amusing that his friend Ajit was searching for the right words to say.

“Dai, are you drunk again? Dude, how many times have I told you to keep things in check? You are destroying yourself dude”, exclaimed Ajit, sounding really exasperated.

Cherian had heard the same things from Ajit before and gave out his standard reply, “Aliya, I know that I should not be doing this but the fact as you know is that I am frustrated, frustrated at my own inability, frustrated with the world”.

Cherian knew that Ajit was extremely angry as he had nothing to say.

“Ajit, you know about my love failure, about how that girl left me because her parents were against the match. You know about how I loved her with my whole heart. You know that I am incomplete without her. You know that I am not happy in my professional life. So please don’t give me advice. Not now aliyaaaa” growled Cherian into the phone.

Immediately, Cherian heard these earnest words ring through the phone with clarity, “Long ago, I knew a confident guy, who really helped me when I was down at multiple stages in my life. It is embarrassing to see that same guy talk like this, talk as if the world has ended, and talk as if hope had died out. Cherian, I know that you are made of better stuff than this. A bright and happy future only awaits those who take things into their hands”.

And Ajit continued, “If I was in Bangalore now, I would have probably given you a kick up your rear side, but I am not. I have said what ever I wanted to say, the rest is up to you now. You decide if you want to go down this road to perdition or take control of your life. I have nothing more to add as I have said enough about this already”.

With that, Ajit cut the call and Cherian was left all alone to contemplate about his future. With some effort, he got up and in that drunken stupor made his way out into the pleasant Bangalore evening. He felt much better once he was outside as the steady, cool Bangalore evening breeze gently caressed his face.

He took a vow that he would change his self destructive habit, if not for himself, but for his parents. He had to succeed at all cost and prove all his detractors wrong including the parents of that girl, who so badly misjudged and insulted him and with that iron resolve, he made his way back into the house humming a happy tune.

PS: I have changed the name of my friend but this story is based on a phone call I had to make last week. Nowadays, I find that many software engineers are succumbing to the “mid life” crisis at a very young age, in their mid/late twenties. That coupled with the mallu tradition of drinking, unfortunately makes it a deadly combination……

I just hope that my dear friend learns from this character called “Cherian”