The Night Club Culture

Night clubs are to Indians, what evolution was to Charles Darwin – survival of the fittest.

I will try and back what I said by describing a normal day for an average-Indian-night-club-enthusiast at a popular destination. 

The entrance to any club is always through a door which is way more cramped than it should normally have been. I believe this is because the owners were trying to be modest while making the night-club. They never expected that the turnout each night would be so high. So, suddenly you enter a dimly-lit room full of screaming people, with music so loud that it can damage your auditory senses and a stench so strong that your appetite is lost instantly. You stand there, at the entrance, for a moment, giving your pupils time to dilate before someone pushes you from the behind in an attempt to join the frantic crowd inside. You cautiously find your way to an empty table and start assessing the high-on-adrenaline-and-alcohol people all around you. Since most of the clubs do not offer butler service, you are forced to visit the bar yourself to get drinks for your date (and for yourself). This is the part where Darwin jumps in like a party-crasher. You push your way through a solid phalanx of drunk, stinky, hairy, middle-aged men in order to reach the bar. Once you have successfully achieved that, you need to shout out your order to the bartender who clearly has more in his plate than he can handle. You just stand there waving money at him so he notices you and hands over your drinks to you. Then starts the long battle of finding your way back out of the mob; which always leads to the same conclusion – your clothes and shoes end up consuming half of your drinks as everybody is trying to reach for the bar, while you are trying to move against the flow. When you finally come out of the sea of effluvial arm-pits (as everyone has their cash-filled hands extended towards the bartender) and head for your table and finally take a sip of the drink (for which you burned roughly around 100-200 Kcal.), you realise that the drink is more water than whisky because the night club owners are a bunch of money-hungry-bastards who always try to save on the cost of drinks by resorting to adulteration. 

After all this wasted effort, you hear a song which you really like and you decide to head to the dance floor with your date (with whom you have hardly spent ten minutes). Again, you work your way through a swarm of sweaty, hairy, frantically-dancing people to reach to the nucleus of the dance floor. Half the song has already been played by that time and you start grooving to the beats. For a guy, it is of utmost importance that his date is not inappropriately touched by other drunken males all around her, and thus he dances less, and plays the role of a security guard more. 

If this satisfies you, you leave the club and head back home with a massive headache or else you start back from the top.

So, for everyone who keeps asking me why I do not like to visit night clubs, I hope I have been explicitly clear. Thank you and keep partying!