Found A Better Planning Aid Than Alcohol? Now, That Is Impossible

Grains (wheat, barley, rye, rice, etc) are all excellent sources of nutrition. They provide proteins for muscle building and carbohydrates for energy. But these humble sources of nutrition become everyone’s favourites only when they are allowed to ferment, because while stardom, success and happiness do not grace us often, the fermented stuff thankfully, is an affordable substitute.  The wonderful liquid works at multiple levels; engenders happiness, soothes life’s aches and pains, makes one feel like a star and gives us at least momentary illusions of success.
 
You know what they say about alcohol? One peg is good, two is too many…… and three onwards is never enough? Well that is because they induce feelings of bravery, adventurism and levity even in the most docile/dour homo sapiens. Need proof? Please read this article here.
 
Now picture this….. Four naval course-mates sitting together enjoying fermented barley. Two pegs down, mood mellow. Three pegs down, spirits high. The fourth peg onwards sees nostalgia starting to brim, guys becoming adventurous and incongruous plans rising out of the muddled brains. And whatever our famous Yogi Baba may say, even he will agree that this transformation would never happen over lauki juice.
 
The first plan generally revolves around meeting again the very next day for beer/picnic. All agree whole heartedly that it is a splendid idea. Promises are made, venue frozen and time agreed upon. Come next morning however, the hazy heads with their minds still in a fog, must firstly, confront disapproving looks from the wives. Secondly when one is not tipsy, one is unfortunately, well, sober. Ignoring those looks therefore, while akin to nonchalantly flicking imaginary lint from one’s sleeve the previous evening, is considerably more difficult in the bright morning light. Hence conjuring up excuses to break the solemn promises of the previous night becomes the immediate priority – not an easy thing to do with the generous throbbing in the nut vying for attention.
 
And then there are the plans made about settling down post-retirement – always a favourite topic among naval coursemates still in their early thirties. “Let’s all pool together, buy a plot of land, build bungalows, and settle down together”, says one sozzled tongue. Other equally pickled tongues wag their agreement at the brilliance of the idea. How about a farmland ‘far from the madding crowd’ stutters one. All agree volubly, heads bobbing in unison, that if there was ever a better idea, they had never come across it. They start conjuring up visions of an idyllic life, toiling manfully and dextrously tilling organic stuff in the lap of bounteous nature.

Another tongue suggests a remote village in Himachal or a small fishing village in Kerala. Others furrow their brows in contemplation and agree that this too could be considered.  However, then one guy, wanting to sound pragmatic, suggests a tier 2 city for reasons of cost, availability of land, etc. This eminently reasonable suggestion acts as a damp squib for the adventurous ones and disparaging comments directed at the ‘suggestor’ flow freely for the next 15 minutes –  “Arey yaar, tu na, kabhi nahin sudherega”. But then the suggestor gets support from one of the ‘teetotalling’ course-mates, who brings the topic back into focus by laying all his eggs on the table –  “But we need access to a golf course, shopping, defence canteens, hospitals, etc”.

This to and fro goes on till about 0200 hrs when one of the wives (you know how they are – killjoys) having witnessed all this dreariness umpteen times, suggests it’s time to go home. The meeting breaks up with the four doddering souls heading home, but not without incoherent utterances to carry the idea forward in the coming days.  25 years later, one is settled in Gurgaon, one in Khargar, Mumbai, one in Hyderabad and with the last ‘planner’ in NOIDA.
 
And what about those plans which are centred around improving the Navy “once we become senior”?  Fourth peg poured, A surmises philosophically, “Yaar, the Navy has gone to the dogs”. B, who till now seemed to have dozed off with his glass balanced on his paunch perks up suddenly at this zoological reference, and puts forth specific instances in support of the ‘man’s best friend’ theory. C lets everyone else know he is getting out as soon as possible and joining politics (this variety, admirably, keeps repeating this declaration right till superannuation). Then the ‘teetotaller’, as always a party pooper, asks the others what they would do to make the Navy better. This stumps the guys and silence reigns for some time. After some seemingly sober ruminations, A who has little understanding of the vast chasm between his aspirations and his capabilities, begins to hold forth-  “Main CNS bana toh, sabse pehle”……(if I become the Chief of Naval Staff)  only to be interrupted by B – “Yaar tu Lieutenant Commander toh ban ja pehle (become a Lieutenant Commander first)”. (If CNS is the top post in the Navy, a Lieutenant Commander is close to the bottom). This leads to heated arguments between the ‘insultee’ A and ‘insultor’ B, and much merriment for C and D. They take sides, interchangeably. To help the din die down, the teetotaller judiciously shifts the blame for the Navy having become one with the Canidae family to NWWA, the bureaucrats, the politicians, society, etc. This finds much favour with all the course-mates and the discussions veer around to this exciting new tangent.

What about the “once we become senior” discussion? Well E Hemingway had once said – “Always do sober what you said you’d do when you were drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut!”