They have their reasons to dim the lights. It brings people closer together in the darkness. It unifies us in a strange way. That and the alcohol, of course.
Clinking glasses, loud music, voices shouting and screaming to be heard above their own din. Exclamations of joy and suddenly discovered secrets of eternal happiness. The thumping of tables, the sliding into couches, people hugging others barely recognizable. Introductions, appreciations, shots, pints and the breaking into choruses. Long-preserved and uncomfortably guarded ice breaking everywhere. The volleying from one table to another, from one group of friends to another. Rushed and inordinately polite apologies to the people you crash into now and then. Opening the door for a lady, making way for people before you, pouring your own drink last, living a chivalrous knight again. Getting up and walking straight is not so easy now. Tracing zigzags in a narrow path to your seat, to the door, to the next table. Confessing that suddenly frivolous secret, into the ears of suddenly close friends in the middle of suddenly appropriate conversation. Let it be. Everybody sings, alcohol irrespective. Thats the comfort level now. Brothers-in-arms till the door, collapsing in a heap once outside. Lying around on college steps, saluting the security. Looking up at a giant moon and stars across the universe. Smiling at each other, grinning to spoil the moment. Nobody can get up to go now. Its too perfect, everything is. And we're all that bit too tired.
Can somebody take us back to the hostel, please?
I get by with a little help from my friends.