Metamorphosis: Episode 1

New Year

"Bring the shotski!"

Several voices shouted above the din of loud music. Ken, the host of the party, a thin man with graying hair and round rimmed spectacles, produced the ski which had four shot glasses glued to it. Four candidates were quickly selected and stood abreast of each other in the center of the living room. Someone quickly filled the shot glasses with tequila. The four candidates held on to the ski, and when prompted, they all lifted the ski together and drank. The gathered crowd cheered wildly, and the shot glasses were refilled for a second round.

After three more shots, one of the four shotski contenders, Lee Hardin, stumbled out of the lineup and plopped himself down on the couch. He shook his head when offered another round at the shotski. Instead, he volunteered the person sitting next to him, a quiet fellow wearing a white shirt, black pants and a bright, red turban. His volunteer stood up and took his place among the shotski, putting aside his beer.

This time it was vodka. The glasses were filled to the brim and the candidates drank them down. Lee watched from the couch, not feeling the strength or willingness to even stand up. It was a strange sight to see the bright red turban bobbing up and down as he drank glass after glass. "That dude can hold his liquor," thought Lee as he looked on.

Eventually, he had to make his way to the bathroom. He managed to navigate the hallway and found the right door. It was locked. More loud cheering came from the living room. Apparently they had a new set of candidates for the shotski. The shotski never got tired, the shotski reigned supreme. Lee chuckled thinking about the shotski's ultimate power.

The man in the bright red turban walked over to him.

"Restroom occupied?" he asked, nodding towards the door.

"Uh, yeah," Lee responded. "Just waiting to take a whiz."

"Yeah, what a party huh?"

"It's great! Love the music!"

"Yeah, he has quite a collection, I was impressed looking at all those shelves of CD's."

"My name is Lee," Lee stuck out his hand clumsily, "Lee Hardin."

"Gurpreet," he replied, shaking his hand.

"Goopy?" Lee asked, feigning confusion.

"No, Gur-preet."

"Goo pee?"

"Gur-preet. Pre, as in pre-calculus, and eet like eat, but with a th sound. Sort of."

Lee laughed loudly and slapped Gurpreet playfully on the arm. The bathroom door opened and a petite girl with purple and pink hair slipped out and quickly disappeared into the partying crowd.

"Won't be a minute," Lee said, entering the bathroom.

As the party continued, the twilight evening hours gave way to the darkness of night. Stars came out in the night sky and twinkled brightly. The moon was big and clear on this cloudless night. A small group of people had decided to go into the back yard, lie down on the reclining lawn chairs, and stare up at the night sky, beer bottles in hand. Meanwhile, most of the other guests, including Gurpreet and Lee, stayed indoors for more music, drinking and dancing.

Lee was still feeling woozy. He wasn't able to tell if he was just drunk or if something else was going on. He ignored it and took a swig of beer. He liked beer, it wasn't like the hard liquor. You could drink as much beer as you liked.

The dizziness seemed to increase. Lee looked around trying to find a place to sit. He pulled out a chair from the dining table and sat down. And then took another drink of beer.

The music stopped briefly as someone changed the CD. The new song came on louder, and everyone cheered even louder.

"Yeah!" Lee liked the rhythm and melody of the new song. It was one of those songs that gets stuck in your head for weeks and weeks and you just keep singing it over and over to yourself. He tapped his feet, nodded his head, and then finally decided that he needed to get up and dance with everyone else who had apparently decided the same thing.

He pushed off from the chair abruptly, but as he rose to stand, the room began to spin.

"Whoa, whoa!" he said, grabbing hold of the table. The beer bottle slipped out of his hand and tumbled to the floor, spilling what remained of its contents onto the beige carpet. Lee blinked, trying to steady himself, but the spinning continued, making him unsteady. He lost his footing and balance. Dazed and confused, he tumbled to the ground as the music and light faded into blackness.

When he opened his eyes, he was on the floor and several faces were crowded all around him, looking down at him. The music had been turned off, and there was silence.

"Hey buddy, are you ok?" someone asked.

"What happened, man?" asked someone else.

Lee felt aches in his body. His head was hurting, and there was a buzzing sound in his ears. His vision was blurred.

"I-I can't see very well," he mumbled, getting into a sitting position. People helped him onto the couch.

"We should call an ambulance," said a female voice.

"No, give him a few minutes, see how he feels first," replied another. There were so many faces and people that Lee couldn't tell who was talking.

Ken elbowed his way through the gawking crowd with a steaming cup of hot black coffee.

"Here," he said, handing it to Lee, "Drink this."

Lee quietly obeyed and dutifully began sipping the strong coffee. Ken disappeared for a few minutes and then returned with a portable blood pressure monitor.

"Good thing I keep this around the house," he said, as he wrapped the black strap around Lee's wrist. "Put your arm over here on the armrest. Good. Now, keep very still, this will only take a minute."

The machine beeped as it began it's measurement, and by the time it finished, nearly everyone had lost interest in Lee's situation. Small groups of people began chatting and the decibel level gradually rose again.

"Yup," declared Ken, reading the results, "you have high blood pressure. No more booze for you, my friend."

"What?" Lee complained, "Oh man!"

Eventually, the music came back on, a much more relaxed tune this time, and not as loud as before. It was time for food anyway, so the guests helped themselves to dinner or snacks.

Hours passed, and eventually the time finally came. The music stopped for a brief moment as Ken made an announcement. "Everybody please grab a glass of champagne. They are on the tray on the kitchen counter top. We will be starting the countdown soon, it's almost time!"

Those sitting outside in the back yard consulted their watches. The guests began slowly wandering into the kitchen and picking up their champagne glasses. Someone in the living room started flipping the channels on the large screen television mounted on the wall. The music volume was turned down. People could now hear each other, so they started talking, joking and laughing more. It was a genial atmosphere.

Ken began gathering everyone into the main room. The folks from the back yard came inside and picked up their champagne glasses on the way to the living room. Soon, everyone was ready, glass in hand, staring at the large screen television. The music had been turned off, and the television volume had been turned up. On the screen, a live view from downtown in the city, where huge crowds had gathered. A local celebrity stood on stage and began the countdown with the entire crowd joining in.

Everyone in the room counted along. Gurpreet looked at the time on his phone. One minute to midnight. He held his champagne glass up, ready to toast and celebrate.

"Ten!" they shouted. "Nine! Eight! Seven!"

Gurpreet could feel himself shouting but his voice was drowned out by the crowd.

"Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

On the large television screen, fireworks erupted on the stage behind the celebrity, and a large neon sign declaring the new year lit up, hanging in mid-air above the stage. In the living room, people cheered, hugged each other, and toasted the new year. Someone threw confetti. The sound of voices wishing each other "Happy New Year!" filled the air.

Gurpreet took a sip of his champagne and gave hugs and high-fives and wished everyone a happy new year. Most of the people were strangers to him. He knew the host of the party, and perhaps four other individuals. And he had just met Lee. But this was his first interaction with the rest of the guests.

Seventeen miles away from Gurpreet's location, at that exact time, another group had gathered in the local Gurudwara. The local sangat was sitting inside the main hall, listening to the soulful sounds of keertan being played by the ragi jatha. Sidhak Kaur sat there quietly, in equipoise, eyes closed, her total attention and focus on the words and music. She was the picture of tranquility, seated perfectly straight and still. Her navy blue dastaar matched the blue suit she was wearing. The seconds and minutes ticked away, and she sat silently with the faintest hint of a smile on her face, in unexplainable bliss.

Lost in the shabad, she didn't realize when the clock hands ticked past midnight. She was absorbed in meditation and connection to the shabad.

After the conclusion of the services, Sidhak helped with langar seva, preparing and serving hot meals to all the assembled sangat. It was an atmosphere of hope and anticipation for the coming year. The langar hall was filled with the sounds of children playing and people talking, laughing and congratulating each other. There was a positive energy in the air.

Sidhak walked the line carrying a pot and serving hot daal with a ladle to anyone who needed a second or third or fourth helping. The sangat were seated on the carpeted floor in rows. When she reached the end of the row, she lingered to talk to an older couple.

"Sat Sri Akal Uncleji, Auntieji," she said, smiling and leaning down. "How is everything? Congratulations on the new year."

"Congratulations to you too beti," they replied, and the Dhillon Aunty placed her hand on Sidhak's head as a blessing.

"Did Gurpreet come?" Sidhak asked casually.

"Oh, no, he went out with some of his friends. He wanted to ring in the new year with them," Aunty answered with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

"Ah, well. Can I get you anything else? More daal, or roti, or sabzi?"

"Sure, some roti."

Sidhak made her way back to the main kitchen and informed another sevadar. "More roti for Dhillon Uncle and Aunty," she said.