Tuesday, January 6, 2009

B4_Sunrise, 2009

The state-of-the-art laser installation and smoke machines have ceased. The revered imported DJ is displaying signs of exhaustion. So are the hundreds of shirtless, sweaty beefies gyrating on the floor, the ledges, the specially built cages and the hidden corners. House subtly slides into R&B. Slowly the volume begins to fade and eventually comes to a halt. The maxed-out DJ bids his goodbyes. Thunderous applause fills the colossal structure, but then the heaving and hungry crowd still pleads for more. In perfect orchestration, the music god departs from his throne but re-appears in a minute or two. The regular circuit boys aren’t a bit surprised. The speakers bursts to life again, followed by the roars of the revitalized revelers. 

And so the last number is spent and savored frantically. Glaring lights now invade the whole space and reveal a jolting scene. Confetti, plastic cups, water and beer bottles, cigarette butts, glow sticks, and even shirts form a collage on the beaten floor. You step on some broken glass and the reflection zaps your blurry eyes. And just like that, you shift into another mode. Your legs can barely spring you. You sit or lean onto something/someone for a necessary moment. You take a deep breath followed by the last puff of your menthols. You reach behind and find relief that your tank top is still firmly tucked under your favorite jeans.  

By this time, after-parties are being set up. Some have already kicked off from different houses/flats/condo units/hotel suites around the bustling metropolis for the insatiable party cravers. As the haze clears up, goodbye hugs and kisses are exchanged from old and new friends, acquaintances, and people you just met and whose names you’ll never remember. You check your phone for missed calls and text messages. An invite or two for the next venue. A feeling of sadness suddenly slams you with the realization that it’s the last leg of the circuit. The thought of shifting back to the reality of work and your daily routine sinks you further.

And yet, in an instant your eyes are pulled straight into the same kind and beautiful eyes you got drawn in to several parties ago. The same hairy but soft-as-a-girl’s hands you know in perfect detail are clutching yours again.


For a moment, you struggle for a word. But then you realize for certain, there still isn't any to describe that incredible sensation you feel heading out of the exit doors, his hand steadily clasping your shoulder and yours securely on his hip. From that very first party, in that same place, at that same time, you feel overwhelmingly amazed at how the feeling has remained. 

While most of the party boys instinctively pull out their sunglasses and head for cover from the rays of the new sun, you both smile and face it head on, exactly as it was four wonderful years ago.

You just know for sure it’s going to be a beautiful day. It’s going to be a wonderful 2009.