It was well past 12 in the night and for a moment she felt a sudden surge of insecurity in the darkness of the club. The dim lights flashing across the room, made her feel secure in the obscure world, lest ‘known faces’ notice her. With every sip of Vodka, she felt the ominous presence of her father. She blurted apologies, falling on her knees, begging forgiveness, while her colleagues joined her emotional outcry, spilling beer as “One sane soul consoled the other”. Her father had been a disciplinarian, with strongly rooted values. With every sip of the drink, there was a growing sense of guilt and in order to overcome her pain she gulped a large at one go. She profusely cried like a child, while the loud music and darkness, camouflaged her emotions. It was insane, but she wanted to be insane to vent her concealed emotions of being in an estranged world.

She was being a “put on” since the time she landed in this city of opportunities. There was a sense of being the ‘chosen one’, when she set foot. With time, the whirlwind of sophistication had swept her away. She now took pride in being one amongst the “Gen-X”- It was cool, happening and the”in-thing”. The corporate world was all a ‘put on ‘, she convinced herself. It was a necessary evil and she was accustomed to her habits, which seemed awkward and disgusting a couple of years ago, when she viewed the world from her little town. She was now a ‘city girl ‘, she had always dreamt of being one. Her simple parents took pride in her status of being a graduate, employed with an MNC- a tag to fetch her “well-educated “groom. She cared little for marriage. He had begun to love her newfound freedom.

With passing time, she hoped to get home, but the soothing liquor and her coveted friends kept her hooked. As a friend filled the glass, she resisted, but the compelling voices forced her into another drink. She was dazed and the world seemed to be revolving at lightning speed. The flashing lights were blinding and there was an uneasy sensation of an internal hurricane. She held back her feelings, in an effort to prevent an exhibition of her drunken state. Moments later there was an upsurge, as she threw up on the floor, sending her friends into a tizzy, each examining the state of their attire. She fumbled her way to the restroom, to tidy herself. There was a tinge of shame, but in her intoxicated state she had little control over her senses. After an animated apology, it was well past 2 am when she slowly crept back into her friend’s car. “Drop me home, my sweeett home” she blabbered, as the world turned dark.

A vigorous shake and a frustrated yell, brought back some sense .She dragged her out, bidding a vociferous farewell, to the speeding car. As she got to gate, she noticed a human figure seated besides the door. There was a moment of apprehension and fear. Mustering her diminishing courage she blurted

“Who’s it?”

A wrinkled old lady slowly appeared. She seemed familiar. Even in an intoxicated state, no one forgets his or her mother. Her mother had travelled day long from the town to stay with her beloved daughter for a few days

“Why are you here? “She yelled, trying to conceal her mountain of guilt. She felt awkward, disgusted and shattered. She never wanted her mother to see her in this state.

Her mom quietly unlatched the door, as silent drops wetted her cheeks. There was an uneasy silence. They never spoke again that night. Two minds were wide-awake in bed, dealing with varied emotions-one of guilt, the other of shock and disbelief.

Don’t be a ‘put on’ (fake); It never helps your cause!

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