It was a big cheery place with lots of lit lamps and lively music interspersed with animated conversations. Mriga was fascinated. It was her first time coming to watch an evening play. She had seen a couple of them with her parents and friends in the Northern zilla but they had been conducted on a much smaller scale and not in a place like this.
Though the play hadn't started yet, but there was a wooden podium which was covered and a big banner had been hung there, mentioning the details of the program. Most of the people around them were older but looked to be jovial and amiable. Devvrat was true to his word and ordered big portions of appetisers the minute they found a table to sit.
"Here you go," the server came and banged a large pitcher on their table.
"But we didn't order any drinks," Devvrat frowned at the serving woman.
"It is on the house today. The sherbet* has been specially ordered by the man sitting there for everyone who walks in to our establishment tonight. He is getting married tomorrow," the woman pointed out to the guy sitting amidst a crowd of people on their right.
After the woman left, Devvrat picked up a glass and poured a little drink in it to sniff and taste.
"Oh! It is delicious. Try some," he exclaimed.
Mriga was dying to taste it too. The pitcher smelled of honey and spices, making it a heavenly combo.
"Is this… is it alcohol?" Mriga asked to be sure.
Devvrat laughed at Mriga's naivety, "How can honey be alcoholic? You are a minor for sure! Alcohol tastes bitter and is foul smelling. In fact, after the first time, I could never bring myself to drink it again. This drink… it's like nectar."
She gave him a sour look for making fun of her ignorance. Accepting a glass, she tasted it and closed her eyes in bliss.
"Good, isn't it?" Devvrat's question was interrupted by the announcement that the play was about to start.
It was a musical romantic comedy which lasted for two hours. By the end of it, the two of them had demolished four large pitchers.
Holding onto the chair for support, Devvrat struggled to get up. In a slurring voice, he told Mriga that he was going to the washroom. But Mriga couldn't care less. The Mead* had hit her hard and she was feeling boisterous.
She stood up and climbed the rickety table. People were milling around her, most of them ready to leave the place.
Suddenly she started to wail loudly. Most people didn't pay attention to her. Few of them, who were still sober, stopped to look at her for a moment before shaking their heads and moving on. This really infuriated her.
The next second someone passed by her and she grabbed onto his sleeve hard.
"What are you trying to do? Let go of me, you drunkard," Vidyut's irritated voice had no effect on her.
She was still wailing, now almost at the top of her lungs.
After finishing with his sister's birthday celebrations, Vidyut had enjoyed a quick stroll with Vindhya where he had told her that Yash seemed like a nice guy and he wouldn't object to their union any more.
He had been invited to one of his friend's wedding eve. Normally, he would have declined the invite after a long evening but he was travelling the next day and wouldn't be able to attend the wedding. Hence, he decided to wish him tonight at the place where he was celebrating his last day as a free man.
That is how he found himself face-to-face with an inebriated, scary looking Mriga.
Much to his dismay, the young boy's grip was firm on his arm, which he hadn't been able to get rid of despite repeated attempts.
"God! Can you stop crying? My ears have started to bleed," he scolded Mriga, trying to make himself heard above the din which she was creating.
Mriga stopped suddenly and looked at him with unfocussed eyes.
"Why are you scolding me? Everyone keeps scolding me. No one loves me. No one has wished me on my birthday. Not even ONE person. Why? Why has no one done that? I am sooooooooo sad…" with that, she started sobbing again, but softly this time.
Vidyut looked around them and then muttered in disgust, "How can the guardian allow such a young child to drink? By the way, where the hell is his guardian?"
All this while, she had been sitting down on her haunches on the table while holding onto his sleeve.
"Who did you come with? What is your name?" Vidyut tried to talk to her while pulling her down from the table.
But Mriga had zoned him out. During the two hours of the play, there was a romantic song which had kept playing as the background score at regular intervals. It had probably struck a chord with her because she started singing it now. Her voice wasn't great to begin with and the loud crying made it sound even worse.
"For such a strong boy, your voice is too girly," Vidyut commented savagely, while still trying to pull her down or atleast release his sleeve from her grip.
Mriga stopped singing mid-way to look at him with accusing eyes.
"I am not a strong BOY," she pouted but the import of it was lost on Vidyut.
He was becoming increasingly annoyed with his failure to extract himself from this drunkard. With no other option, he hooked his free arm through the boy's legs and picked him up in his arms. The minute he picked her, Mriga released his sleeve and clung to his neck.
He was surprised at Mriga's weight. Thankfully she had quietened down and he tried to put her down slowly only to have his neck gripped hard.
"No no no… carry me to the house. I am tired now. I don't want to walk anymore," she said in a whiny tone.
*Sherbet - Cooling drink made from fruit juice
*Mead - An alcoholic drink made from fermenting honey