Warning: The whole episode is the experience of my colleuge, as told by him. Mohan does not drink but only drives – mostly people mad!
The hero of this story is my ex-tech lead Mr Raj ( Name protected). He is a great hero and motivator to the team in terms of guzzling the beer by canfulls. Here is his story one night which took place near Central Silkboard flyover.
Myself and others went to Aranya (bar cum restaurant) on Sarjapur road and started downing all our project sorrows. After a few beers it was hard red label stuff. The drinking and leg pulling sting went up to 11PM. Thats when the bar owner politely asked the guys for their last order. Tipsy as they were – they asked for a special on house and were promptly asked to pay up.
Once outside, the team split up and drove ( Yes, after failing to recognize many of their own cars/bikes) off. The ego is greater than wisdom they say.
Myself just came out and somehow found the keys to the 2 wheeler. The security assisted me in finding the keyhole and moon-walking, somehow managed to clutch the bike. I vaugely remembered that I was on sarjapur road and drove in the opposite direction.
As long as the vehicle was being driven, there was no issue. There was a stupid car which stopped in front of me for a hump and I had to promptly stop too. Unfortunately, my legs just wobbled and I toppled over. I just heaved myself up and since the bikes engine was still running, managed to mount and continue my ride.
If I recollected correctly, my house was near the flyover ( his house was near Jayadeva flyover). I found the flyover and took the left turn. Actually our man had taken the left turn near silkboard junction so effectively he started going towards Attible.
After driving for about 20 minutes I realized that something was wrong. My house was reachable in 5 minutes of the left turn. I stopped and fell down promptly. I had vomitted too. I just sat there on the road trying to find a gap in the divider, so that I could take a U turn. I started pushing the vehicle on the road as I could not get it started.
Some kind souls who were less sober, started the bike for me and put me back on the hosur road. I started driving and enjoying the moon, the stars and general well being. The euphoria did not last for long as I found out I had reached the flyover and took a left turn to wards my home.
Promptly the traffic police stopped me. There was a crowd and few bikes were parked hapazardly. One PC asked me to get down from the bike and show the vehicle papers. I blurted what papers?
Opening my mouth was a very big mistake. Suddenly the PC smelt vodka and helped me dismount. He even parked the bike and pushed me towards the other inspector. The great man asked me to breath into a tube. I though he was asking me to blow a balloon and tried that. The inspector was laughing – looking at my attempt to blow the breath analyzer. I registered a cool 50% above limits.
The inspector somehow found my license in pocket and wrote out a note. He asked me to tell my name. I blurted second name and then first name just like passport. Next was the toughest question of the day – even my clients did not ask such a tough one. He asked me for the bikes registration number!
I blurted out KA 05 and stopped. He asked next, I started thinking like a kid in school. I managed x and stopped. The PC cursing his luck asked me to go – see the license plate and tell me the number. It took me 4 visits to the bike as it had 4 numbers !!!
He tore a reciept and gave me. He said come tomorrow pay fine, we are taking your vehicle.
I was in shock, how can I go home? A friendly auto fellow after fleecing 150 in advance dropped me near home. I vomitted and slept peacefully.
Coming back to reality, this hero continues his saga, week on week despite promising his spouse everytime not to drink, not to drink and drive. I hope the Government bans arrack, tobacco in total.