Bhang de Basanti!

Holi came and went, but my desire to be knocked out by bhang didn't. Truth be told, i've only raved about the thought of bhang and never really done anything about it. Until recently when N managed to procure some from a man who comes to office selling chudwa-chabeena. (Talk about contacts.)

Super thrilled at finally getting my hands on some, i decided i put it to good use the very same day. I read up on bhang (turns out its the cannabis family), and heard freaky stories about people who've gone crackpotty under its influence - A was telling me about a friend who found a little road impossibly tough to cross, and scared me further with "Don't do it alone" and "If you start laughing, you'll keep laughing, or it will be the other extreme". Sigh. Three days later, i still had the packet with me. Unopened.

On Sunday, i thought WTF, let's just do it. Mom was in the room correcting papers and Dad was out. I didn't have the courage to carry the packet to the kitchen - a night shirt isn't a very good place to hide little packets, unless you count the brassiere worn inside it and the stories of hiding-secrets-in-the-bra that have been the stuff of Indian legends (and movies) for so long. I didn't dare do the latter for fear of wasting the bhang, so i quietly crooked my finger and removed a generous amount, hid it in the folds of my night-shirt and ran to the kitchen. I mixed it up, drank it and then waited.

And waited and waited and waited.

Zilch. I could've been having ground parthenium for all it was worth. Nothing happened! P called - i had spoken to him for hours on end because i was contemplating suicide a day before, and in the process had told him about the bhang. So he called and checked up on me.
"So, did you have it?"
"Yaa."
"Did you watch a funny movie like i told you to?"
"Yaa, sort of, but nothing's happening."
"You are a bewdi. That's why. How much did you have?"
"A third of the packet. Why?"
And before he could speak up, i said, "I didn't use too much jal jeera as base also da. Still, nothing happened."

I'm not surprised at his silence since then. I mean, bhang is supposed to be mixed with thandai or buttermilk only. No diary product (other than cheese) has ever seen the dust in my house, leave alone the fridge or the kitchen, and i was way too lazy to go out and buy myself Masti Dahi. So i made do with whatever i had. There was Fanta, lime cordial and jal jeera. I chose the lesser of the three evils.

Jal jeera. Shikes. God save bhang from the likes of me.