Winy Memories

Three of us walked to hostel, I was carrying a bucket. We barely spoke till we entered the hostel then we locked sliding grill door. As we stepped in to the hostel I saw light of relief brightening my friends' fright shadowed face. Haunted by apprehension of getting caught in this lurking business, we were weighing in our minds the damages it can cause. We have successfully completed the second stage of Operation Bloody Wine.

To me wine meant something sweet and tasty, and for that matter I thought entire alcoholic liquors are like wine. I was still a high school boy who has tasted wine in imagination when we commissioned Operation Bloody Wine. Of the many I have invited for dedicating their service to this operation only two responded positively. Others, oh well they just declined my offer saying it's highly unlikely that this project would be successful and a high school boy never made wine. Making wine and drinking were considered to be sins of highest magnitude; most of them didn't approve OBW due to that very reason. They sacrificed the adventure for reasons they thought would save them from troubles. In my hindsight I realized OBW would have been utter failure if we were a large group. For this reason I would like to express my deepest gratitude to those who declined my offer. Without your support this operation would not be successful good job guys. Well done!!! Thanks!!!

There were a few cashew trees in our campus; those were leased to local farmers. Farmers never cared for fruits they plucked the nut out of fruit and piled the fruit under the tress; THERE!!! We found our raw material. Under cover juicing, bottling and fermenting that’s our first task. We gathered at vegetables garden behind our hostel, that’s the best place to bury bottled juice for fermentation so we decided to carry out juicing in same place. We three split our tasks and consecrated ourselves to perform it with perfection. Watch man, squeezer man and those were the roles. I can’t remember if the squeezer guys washed their hands before they started extracting the blood out of poor cashews fruits. Fortunate enough, no one passed by tricking my eagle eyes.

Juice was mixed with sugar and we bottled the same and buried deep under.

We stood in front of the hostel for a while for preparing of executing the very final stage OBW. Third one is more critical than all stages, consumption. This is a rare situation where in production was easier than consumption like an atom bomb. We have successfully smuggled the bottle from the depths of our garden to hostel, we have everything we wanted. One last time we invited some friends again to join the party, thinking their dislike would have abated. The response was more intense and furious. In that hostile environment we tasted wine, and then we acted like we are drunk. In fact anticipation of intoxication blocked its own way, eagerness brought only awakens.

Drink once and earn title drunkard, it happened to us. We became drunkards in hostel mate's eyes. None ever spoke of jubilant team of OBW or OBW as such so now it remain as my obligation to dig a hole on earth and yell out that we broke one of the ten commandments of high school hostel law. Now I am pretty relieved.