Dear Mr. Smirnoff,
I am writing this letter to you after deep thought (and after feeling steadier since all that merry making). In the past, there have been other moments when I have thought of communicating all these things I feel with you, but at no time has the urge been so very much.
Actually, the main reason I wanted to write to you was for congratulating you for making such a wonderful thing as your branded vodka. I need to tell you that other than love, vodka is the only other thing that makes me feel this way. There are a few things I have realized while partying last Saturday with some of my friends and your fine drinks.
Yes, a dazzling, glazed effect takes place. Without an effort, I can tell the jerk he is a jerk and tell the cute guy that he is cute. Also, a slur develops, hence no words come out as words. They are all songs. I can sing, ‘I want to eeeeeat now..’ and everyone scampers to get the poor damsel a plate.
The mechanics of the body do not remain linear. Cant walk straight for the life of me. However, walking haphazard is fun too. You can dance with everyone because you cant stay in one place too long! Just that I hate the part when I ride on someone’s foot or vice versa!
There is this happiness. I don’t know where it comes from. It possibly couldn’t be because of things happening in my life because they are, well, just too real, if you know what I mean..So this happiness is almost surreal, out of the world. I even smile at people I hate..
The foodie even forgets about food…I can stay for long hours without eating, just keep bringing the drinks..
You even cry..You tend to get over emotional and cry when you try to speak of things that hold meaning in your life…You cry for friendships lost, you cry for love lost, you basically cry for everything remotely hurting you…
When I get back home, I feel like having gallons of water, I feel totally parched and rummaging through the fridge for cold water only makes my parents more suspicious..They wonder if the swagger and the thirst for plain water add up to something fishy..But I tell them clearly, ‘I am not drunk if that’s what you are thinking Dad!’
Sleepless nights. I just don’t seem to get a good sleep thereafter, the night becomes one big cassette that keeps rewinding and forwarding the entire time I was partying and being merry. Who said you sleep like a log when you are drunk??
Hunger strikes around 3am on an average. And on that given moment, I can get up and look for food even without my glasses! Talk about superpowers! So ya, Mr. Smirnoff, your drink is almost like amrit in this regard…However, cant get the right food or eat, as my folks (esp my imsomniac Ma) will find it just a wee bit suspicious..again.
The next day is what you call a ‘passing phase’…this day was created so that people like us can get back to their two feet, and start feeling worthy of doing other things like watching TV, sharing normal conversations with the family etc..This day is best suited to be a Sunday…Also, friends start calling, from the noon time though, to tell you things you did last night, to share the humiliation with you..You feel no shame with these friends, cos they are in it with you…
In all, Mr.Smirnoff, life is a whole deal better for the beverage you produce. If it wasn’t for vodka, we would just be slaves working in huge companies and living lives of the plainest kinds..You bring forth our animality and creativity, which stay subdued otherwise…I thank you, and I promise you to carry on with the tradition of livening things up everytime I am in the company of like minded friends and your fine vodka.
Love,
High spirited girl :)
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