The sorry state of consciousness

I proceeded after much ado on my yearly sabatical around the mid of February, exactly one year after i joined the organisation i currently slae for. The vacations were decent enough in themselves, food as always back home (Pakistan - Lahore) is great. The best ever, if i might say so, provided you are a risk taking sort of a person and dont mind the occasional heart attack due to nerve popping levels of cholestrol and fat and fat and cholestrol. I think those are the main ingredients of heaven. Those two and red meat. A place where you can devour those to relish, without the fear of cardiac arrest is a place called heaven.

However, i came back from my little heaven of oil rich food in the mid of March, and i see that the city has changed. Its turned bloody turtle on me. Complete transformation to the life style for my friends and I.

We have been on a constant party roll for the past three months. And by constant, i mean constant, i kid thee not! It all started when a friend of a friend came over from abroad for around 15 days. So we all felt obliged (initially) to take the poor person around the town. I was initially a bit grumpy, cause after 10.30 pm i thought my time for beauty sleep had begun and was now being effectively being ruined due to the continuing clubbing or bar hopping or dinner (which ever was on the menu). The activities were mostly culinary related, with most or all of the participants involved in eating or drinking or both. Even during the movies, the food never stopped. Doesn't sound like much fun does it? Wait a week... The party hours grew in length, initially it was till 12.00 and then extended time was awarded and the last one week (of that friend's stay) it was uptil the clubs would close down and they kicked our sorry assess out, oh around 3.00 am, on a weekday, from an empty club. At one point, there were only fifteen people in the club. Seven of us, and the rest of the eight were random people who didnt know what they were doing or where they were. Bloody tourists.

So the friend left, but the party syndrome had sunk its claws so deep that we have yet to be able to free ourselves from the talons of delerium. What shall follow this rant above will be a detailed story of how each weekend passed over us like heavy trucks and how it left some of us wanting more (greedy bastards) and the rest were left questioning the truth of what had occurred, or whether it had occurred at all??