Disclaimer: Since this is a very subjective and personal opinion, I understand that not everybody shall relate to this. Those who do, please share and let people know – if we hate clubbing, it doesn’t make us old school.
It’s 2013. The vacations have just begun and my WhatsApp is filled with new groups, all about plans of roaming around! A group subject reads ‘Marine Drives!’, ‘Dinner @ Resto’ reads another. ‘House Party!!’ the third was named. I was going to meet all of them after ages, and the excitement was at its peak. These are the kind of moments we live for as teenagers, right?
The beautiful Arabian Sea, the gentle breeze and the full moon staring at us right back – some things you always crave for. The dinner plan was a flop because the food wasn’t as we expected, but hey, the playing around with friends, cracking lame jokes, taking amazing snaps and that roasting each other, doesn’t really require good food. All it requires is a place where you can sit and talk, isn’t it? And then came the third, House Party. From board games to video games to card games, with our glasses of soft drinks and few Pizzas from Domino’s was all that I ever wanted. Lying around on the couch and having a gala time with friends, what else do you need?
And then life happened. It is 2018, or ‘2K18’ as few people would like to spell it. I had informed my boss in advance that I’d leave from work a little earlier than usual, since it was time to meet friends again, after ages. There was so much to share and so much to know. Excitement was at its peak once again. ‘Clubbing’, read the group name with the venue pre-decided.
The clock hit 9, and I finally reached the venue. Punctuality and I have always had an amazing relationship since childhood. I always love being on time, but the sad part is, I always fail to. Nevertheless, I wasn’t too late somehow, and the adrenaline rush inside had only grown. I entered to find my friends, on the dance floor already.
Not too fond of dancing, but I tried spending a few minutes, having virtually nothing else to do. Not fond of dancing doesn’t imply I don’t love music. Music has made me grow, but my playlist often differs with the meaning less lyrical songs backed with electronic dance music. The instruments and the lyrics still hold value to me. I still love those kinds of songs you can get lost into, the kind of songs your thoughts can blend with and you can relate to. I am least interested to know how a person is in love with the shape of another.
So, all I could do for these 20 minutes on the dance floor was just wave at them and afford a few hugs. The music was loud and even their hello’s couldn’t reach my ears. I had waited months to meet them and all the way to the club, I was having butterflies in my stomach imagining the time we’d spend. Before meeting them, every second seemed too much to wait for. After meeting them, every second seemed too much to wait at that place for. To say, I was there with a group of friends – my group of friends, the best ones I had always known, but in reality, it felt like I was all alone with a crowd of 100 others cramping for space in a room whose capacity is, at max, 50. I couldn’t even greet my friends just like I couldn’t greet the 100 others.
After 20 minutes of struggle, all I did was find a place to sit in a corner and find someone to talk to online. The music was hitting my head too hard and I badly needed a distraction. Thanks to the friends on WhatsApp who made me survive those few minutes, but the night was nevertheless horrible already.
After a good half an hour, finally, they all came on the table. Finally, we all sat together, and yet we weren’t together. The unbearable music still made it difficult to talk. Screaming our lungs out didn’t help either. None of us laughed or talked the way I thought we would. It seemed we were just there to have our food and leave. Few friends ordered drinks, and after few shots, couple of them got hammered. To add misery to the nightmare I was already having, those two could barely stand on their feet. The last thing I would have wanted to happen, certainly. There was mess all around and all I was engrossed into was take care of the friends who had lost their senses.
Why the hell would I pay those cover charges to enter a place with shitty food and loud music killing my ears, hitting my head, and feel like I am in a crowded Mumbai local with strangers all around fighting for their space?
People really wonder why I hate clubbing. Some assume, I hate clubbing because I don’t like dancing. While some others assume it’s because I’m too old school for one. Some believe I hate clubbing because I don’t drink. While some others say I just don’t like music. Others still wonder why do I hate clubbing.
Is it really old school to love talking to your friends? Or is it boring to sit down with them and relax in the arms of the nature somewhere? Is it wrong to expect some memorable laughs, delightful talks and go home with heavy hearts of nostalgia, having relived the memories of those times when days were merrier?
There was not even a single meaningful conversation possible that night. I really had so much to share and so much to know, but all I returned home with were the disastrous memories of a night I’d never want to live again. Still wonder why I hate clubbing?
Yes, I hate clubbing, but no, it doesn’t make me old school.