Nightlife in Colombo

I had the most eye-opening weekend which began on Friday evening and culminated on a rainy, thundering Sunday evening which has me shivering in the cold, typing these lines and hoping to bore you with my experience.

I made it to Colombo’s highest starred hotel to catch a glimpse of a band that had turned from a solid folk ensemble to a mundane Bob Marley tripping group with all the usual tunes including “Late in The Evening” and what not. I was with my best friend and the conversation was flowing with as much ease as water flowing through a river.

The good thing about best friends is that they know the best things about you and kind of mirror it back to you even when you’re not feeling up to it. My personal best friend was someone who had seen me through my most trying times and always boosted my dropping ego with words of admiration and awe which always made me feel as lifted as a helium balloon on its way up, never to come down. With him there’s no “pressure to perform”. He knows my nature, character, my personality and is extremely fond of it, which is why I in turn, love to spend time with him and feel at home in his company.

After tasting my first Lion Lager for the night, the chilled beer which was guzzled very slowly saw me see through its glass, the entrée of Mr and Miss Girl and Boy along with another friend who made their little intrusion to our happy company.

Out with the happy hang out at the Jaic and in with the suggestions to move elsewhere. Mr and Miss Girl who I thought were a happy couple with a 4 year relationship against their names, seemed to be a mismatch in my eyes. There was a constant bickering and a complete difference in tastes that was stark and obvious, even to the most disinterested onlooker who’d have sat in on their conversations. 2 hours into their contradictions, Boy was of the opinion that H2O would be a happening place to step into, especially taking into consideration that there was a friend’s party happening there and Boy, Mr and Miss Girl were Facebook Invitees to this Event.

Why anyone in their right minds would have a birthday party at H2O beats me! I went up the staircase with said company, refused to taste another drop of alcohol, folded my arms and looked at the bird’s eye view below me, of a dance floor packed with H2Oites.. I have seem some weird dance moves in my day but what I beheld last Friday was really something else! It was obvious that they were on some drug induced trip, because the House Music with its monotonous beat is an attraction – a temptation only when one has had sufficient doses of ecky or weed. To cap it all, two strippers from the UK did their thing on either side of the DJ (who was a pretty smart guy), strutting around in a top that leaked their breasts out to you mona liza style – at whatever angle you peeked. As I looked down on the dance floor I saw all the artificialities surface under the spotlight, with fake “hiiiii”s and “umma. ummma” The alcohol was flowing and the people looked like programmed robots moving like R2D2 would, with absolutely no joy in their strides, just vain effort to shake to the beat that was now pounding in my head.

I began this post by saying that my eyes were opened to something new this weekend. It’s nothing spectacular really. Just a simple little fact. I felt absolutely happy to be me. Happy to be the boring, unassuming, quiet sheep in that fold of halfcrazed with energy sheep-fold. I was happy to just do my thing and be myself. There was no pressure to be anyone else. For that I have my best friend to thank for.

Mr and Miss Girl and Boy on the other hand, were of the chameleon type. (I know I’m patting myself on my back and judging others – I guess that’s the blogger’s prerogative as the owner of her own domain right?)) I realized that they would blend in with the atmosphere and then shift gears smoothly when company permitted. They could be aritifical, they could be simple and deep. I wondered at their peculiar ability to be all this and wondered whether it was a talent, a boon, a good thing, and wondered at my own conscience which always beats me up Mervin Silva-style, if ever I change myself in order to try and strike a chord with whoever I’ve met.

To change or not to change. THAT is the question.

What would you do? Would you fake a smile and change accents if the same was done to you? Or would you smile simply and speak your usual dialect only to be misperceived as someone incapable of going with the flow?

I would definitely like to know.