The God called "Tequila"

Tequila- the small, water-look-alike liquid. It was a cold night. I didn't know that the hippie-heaven Goa could be so cold. I sat freezing on a bench at the party, with a sore throat, sniffing nose and Out-of-Place persona. I just didn't know anyone there. Only the bar counter seemed inviting. So I walked up and took a shot. Now, I'm glad I did.
It was fire going down into my ice-cold belly. I needed that heat. For sometime it took away me into a comfortable and known zone. I took 4 more. And I went and sat back on the park bench in the party. Loneliness was now inviting and peaceful. I sat and observed. I felt warmer and happy. I wasn't high. I was away. I was cut-off. My friends were all there, in front of me. But I wanted to sit away. I know I can be weird.
The EDM, the dimly-lit garden and coconut trees and the thought of being in the land of sun-and-sand. It could be likened to heaven- hmmm some what heaven.
It didn't last forever though.
I could feel the effect of the tequila wearing off, like a magic potion losing its desired results. I felt the cold wind and I could feel the mosquitos biting on my calves. I had somehow become immune to the sounds and noise. But it was wearing off and I could hear the badly-dressed sluts, asking their one-night-stands to remember their names. Odd and Annoying and Spectacular.
I do not know the side-effect effects of the Tequila God in the lost state of Goa.
But I wasn't being able to breathe. I gasped for air and somehow got reminded of the loneliness again. My feet kept moving to the EDM, but the head swarmed through space somewhere.

Alone in the crowd, when I thought I would be the crowd. I felt like a High God in my strange elements, away and aloof. Under the coconut tree in Goa.

Only consolation I found was in typing this inane article on my cellphone. The desparate urge to write came with the big gasps of air. I needed to survive with in these words I wrote.
Next night, I lay sipping hot coffee, watching really cute firangs in the candle-light, listening to the soulful voice of Celine Dion, telling me about these "Precious Times", while i gaze on the starlit skies, lying on a comfy hammock- I'm living!
I know this is what life should be. Life will be such.
Home away from home.
I know I will sit back on my arm chair when I am old and reminiscise about the day in the years to come.
Viva la Goa (with due applause to the tequila).