The beer was still cold, though not chill any more. We had drunk slowly, talking all the while. There was a song playing in the background to which none of us was paying much heed. The night was not colder than other nights. There was certainly more twilight, but not enough for the security to spot us sitting in front of the auditorium. He continued with his rounds tapping his stick and we decided to finish the contents of the bottles because the beer was beginning to get a bit sour.
"I had fun." Jerry said, half to himself.
"Tuborg is nice. It's smoother. It is a big lose that we never tried it before today." Observed Akhil.
"I've had more beer than this many times, but I've never had this feeling. I'm not high, I'm happy on beer."
"If you drink you must drink in good company. Light one more. Melvin, you have the match-box, right?" Jerry asked.
"This is the last one. Weren't you supposed to reach the server room an hour ago?" Akhil enquired as he lit the cigarette from the match stick I had struck.
As I watched the disks of smoke slowly rise above our head and the cigarettes getting shorter with every puff, I wondered if it wasn't analogous to the life becoming shorter with every cigarette you smoke. Might be the cigarette is silently cursing, "Innu njan nee karanam, naale nee njan karanam. (Today me because of you, tomorrow you because of me.)"
"Gotta go." Jerry threw away the cigarette butt as he got up. "I'll catch you guys later."
The path was too familiar, but it had been quiet some time since we last took it. The other path was a much more dustier one without any foliage to give cover from the scorching sun, but it was shorter and our lives are too busy. Arun hummed a song. 'Vennila chandana kinnam punnamada kaayalil veene....'
"Even though kaayal and sea means the same, kaayal makes me nostalgic, but sea doesn't."
"Kaayal and sea are not the same. Kaayal is lake. Sea is..."
"Whatever." I cut short Akhil. "What I intended to say is that I hold an emotional attachment with certain malayalam words like kaayal, but not with their English counterparts."
Akhil giggled.
"I wanted to be a writer. But there is no way I can express in English the feelings attached with some mallu things. You see, the perfectly happy life as far as I'm concerned is having a row boat..."
"Robot?"
"Poda m****. A boat, strolling through the paddy fields, plucking mangoes from the neighbour's tree, playing kutteem kolum..." I was too nostalgic to finish the sentence.
"That's not true. You can write about them in English and the keralites who read it will understand."
"But not quiet with the same effect as reading malayalam. We have an attachment with certain things as well as with certain words. The idea can be more effectively expressed only if you use the right words. If I say mango tree, it is just a tree. But if I say maavu, there is a lot more to it. I realized that I cannot be a good writer because if I write about the things which excite me, in English, it won't have the same impact as writing about them in malayalam. After that I haven't written anything."
"Have you written nothing at all after that? I've read a few of your earlier posts."
"And yet you didn't care to make a comment on it. So I guess you didn't particularly like any of them. A few weeks back I wanted to write down a conversation we had. But then I forgot most of it."
"Which conversation?"
"I don't remember. You remember, one day we went to the pub, but we didn't have enough money to get drunk."
"Yeah. The day you forgot Abhi's cap in the pub and we had to walk back all the way to get it because we didn't have enough to pay for the autorikshaw. Why didn't you write?"
"I forgot. I kept thinking what should be your name in the post for one week. Before I could fix you a name I had forgotten most of that chit chat. What name would have you wanted?"
Akhil didn't reply.
"If you had to chose some other name, which name would you chose?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought about it earlier."
"Well, then think aloud. So that I don't get bored. And I'l get to know you options too."
"No. I don't want to say something and later feel sorry. It doesn't matter now, right? Or are you gonna right down today's conversation too?"
"I think I will. So tell me what name do you want. You don't want me to put your actual name, do you?"
"No."
"I want to give you some name that is in some way connected with you, so that the people who know us well enough will understand that it is you and me."
"What is going to be the title of the post?"
I had not thought about it. "Suggest one." I said.
"After Tuborg."
"Perfect." I said. "Oh! Crab! Stadium seems to be locked. Should we take the road around it? It's long."
"Of course no. We jump."
"Alright."
"Use the window. And be careful of the wires above you. Someone got electricuited only a few weeks ago."
"There is a video of someone getting electricuited on a train. I saw it in LAN."
"Low waist jeans were certainly not designed for things like this." Akhil was having trouble stretching his legs to reach the top of the wall. So he made a leap for it and we were on the other side after another ten seconds. He said, "By the way, someone killed a snake in here day before yesterday."
"Hmmm. I heard. Do you have a torch?"
"No."
We reached the middle of the ground. A cold breeze blew. I checked the time. Quarter to one.
"The goal post looks bigger without a keeper in front of it, doesn't it?"
"It does. May be it is because with a goal keeper standing there, you aim only at either the left post or the right post."
"May be."
We reached the hostel in another two-three minutes.
"Are you hungry?" I remembered that I had asked Chottu to get me a chicken fried rice.
"Not much. But I'll join for company's sake. I'll get a spoon."
I unlocked my door, entered the room and switched on my PC. I opened a notepad and sat looking at the ceiling for some time. Akhil had not yet come with the spoon. I sighed. Finally I had made my decision. Akhil, that is going to be his name. I started typing. "The beer was still cold, though not chill any more..."
