I drink only on two occasions –when I’m with friends and when I’m not -Panky Baba.
Every sober man alive has either a glorious alcoholic history or has not yet lived the life God gave him. And though I’m sober most of these days –I too have a [not so remarkable] history; a history of quick neat shots, of talking nonsense[I don’t need to get drunk for that], of throwing up and impressive of all, of trying to prove -I’m not at all drunk, Ok!!! But yes, once you mature to the higher grades there are a few changes that overcome you: You drink to savour the taste and you don’t try hard to prove –Hey, I’m not knocked out yet!! […and handling more than 6 large pegs are no big deal for a strong man like me –blame the Male Ego]
So as I was mentioning about the transformation, for some once the transformation from volume to class happens there is no going back [ideally speaking] while for some the transition never happens. This little write up is my walk down memory lane of how the Bewda[drunkard] in me evolved and like I always say –I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. So scroll down and read on…along with a large of whiskey on the rocks might not hurt at all.
My hay days were crude and since the cash was rationed the choices were limited. Like many prolific Bewdas my debut was with 8PM and though in those days the money was the reason, now when I’d go for an 8PM it would be out of taste. Those days we had an occasion to drink to –failed in the exam, suffered a breakup, lost a cricket match –while now we drink to make up an occasion. I still remember our 3rd semester exams just got over and to celebrate the accomplishment [I don’t understand what kind of accomplishment that is, anyways] we bought a khamba of 8PM. The venue was Ravi’s@Naini as always. My closest buddy [who recently got married and sober also] had started off with 2 neat large pegs off the botal [bottle]. For those of you who’re wondering what a ‘neat’ means –its daroo in its unadulterated virgin form, right out of the botal and consumed without water, soda, ice or any such thing that would exterminate the purity. To give you a background of Dee, he’s a lanky 180 inches lamppost without an iota of fat and when he used to drink gallons would disappear while we’d be clinging to our first. That evening while we tried to support each other as we staggered to the Daru shop, arms around each others shoulders –we set out for the second botal. Enroute he called him mom to tell her he’d be late tonight –I wondered whether we’d be sober enough in the morning. I told my mom that I’d be staying back at Ravi’s for the weekend. Back at Ravi’s the owner of our Adda, another of my old time partner-in-crime had mixed a drop of daroo in a litre of water [such a waste] and seemed to have not liked the taste. I didn’t waste time in convincing him that the water was to be blamed. That evening I was in my superman best and when I realized that my I’m-not-drunk look was not convincing enough to the crowd and to prove my innocence I wrote down a c or c++ program. The argument was if I’m drunk I’d not be conscious enough to remember the program. The program was correct –we all knew it. I was horribly drunk –we all damn knew it. Whom was I fooling?? There were many such episodes, but this one is etched on for a long long time.
Then came a time when I started earning a meagre salary.8PM once in a quarter [here quarter means 3 months] became 8PM over weekends. And once an year I got drunk as hell. My companions will never forget that evening in May 2005. That was the day I’d got as drunk as I could have. And while I was heavenly-knocked out, my friends were shit-scared-knocked-out. Obviously I’ll not disclose much here, but yes that was my record best –once in a life kind of experience. And I’m sure I won’t be able to do a repeat telecast of the performance.
There were times, Saturday evenings with a glass of 8PM, in a dim lit room, where all of us had reclined to a comfortable corner as the hungama had died down and the aloo-bhujiya and chicken kababs were done away with, while Jagjit Singh sang us away to glory. Kaagaz ki kashti…Hooton se chukar... Aapne marzi se kahan…Aapko dekhkar…Tumko dekha to… and many such time tested shots had taken us miles and miles high along with the high spirits that we were already in. My best drink partners Debu, Panky and Kroy were speechless as we savour the music, the lyrics and the daroo. Even now I’m kind of fixed since that was a un-put-down-able experience we’ve had. Our language was silence.
Then there was a time when my cousin bro was getting married and over three evenings we had 3 Teacher’s khamba. That was the most expensive blended scotch whiskey I had had, then. That was also the first time I had whiskey with a class of people who made me a connoisseur out of the rock that I was. Whiskey drinking had a style and a magnificent taste. My 3 evening course left me enlightened and light-headed. That was my turning point. Crude turned to elegance.
It was an office day when a colleague of mine showed me what he’d got from UK. I never knew that the 1 litre botal will become my characteristic drink for years to come. The finest single malt Scotch from the highlands and with a taste as warm and deep –the drink was an instant hit with me. The name’s Glen Morangie.
Over the years much daroo had gone down my throats but Glen Morangie and 8PM have carved a place for them. And I’m sure every-one of us has a personal choice of ours…and ofcourse great music to compliment it.
Its been a long time since I’ve visited heaven or any place near, and as I write this [listening to Kishore Kumar’s- Kahin dur jub din dhal jaye] I’m missing one of my six glasses and a few good daroo partners.
Till we meet again, CHEERS to the good golden fluid known as –darooo…
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Our Pot of Gold
A few days back amidst all the news flow that kept coming, one of them was –GOLD crossing 1200 USD/ounce. It had been on a continuous uptick from the start of the calendar year. And a thought just occurred to me. “How much would a pot of gold be worth? And how would I feel if I had it with me?”
It was almost 7 ‘o clock that May evening, 27 years back in a small sleepy town about 200 kms from Madras. The young crowd including me were all highly thrilled. We were having the water connection being given to us which would mean uninterrupted water supply from the Govt. fitted taps. The two Sarkari[govt.] men who were digging up the ground to lay the water pipe were working nonstop and wanted to wrap up the whole job as soon as possible. But at the same time they took their own sweet time to start it. Anyways we’re not complaining, but thoroughly enjoying the new connection. After getting the connection we got drenched and played in the mud till we’re left with no energy. Over the next few days everybody found a greater convenience in the new connection and were gracious to the folks to have provided the connection –until one week later…
We were playing some outdoor games when one of them –Mani came running looking for my dad.
“He went away… took all of it with him.., I was the one who found it... I hit it first… but he took it away from me…” he said this while panting for air and deliriously searching for my dad.
“What happened Mani?”
Mani was still short of words and just collapsed on the ground; it seemed as if he’d run a long distance. He was given some water and sweets while we all gathered around him to listen to what he had to say.
With tears in his eyes and looking like a man who’s lost everything in life he started, “Anna, I was the one who spotted it, but he cheated me. I found it right there” and pointed to one corner of our compound where the pipes were laid. He was still dazed and there were a lot of people gathering outside so Anna took Mani to his office room. We were not allowed to enter his study so we waited outside the window.
“Mani what are you talking? What did you spot?”
“Anna, GOLD!!! The pot was full till the brim. Full of big gold coins” while he showed with his hand how big they were. And our eyes just popped out!!! Even though we’re kids but still knew what gold meant.
“Anna, I found it while I was digging to lay the water pipe… I hit the bronze pot with my pickaxe… I was confused by the sound that it made –Thun, that of metal hitting metal. I was curious then so I continued digging but carefully. At the same time I was getting excited and couldn’t control it myself so called Ponnu over.
“It was heavy… very heavy. We hid it as soon as we realized what it was and finished the work and hurried to his home. There we closed all the doors and windows and emptied the contents of the pot. There were about 450 gold coins and one gold chain with 7 gold coins fixed to it.
As Mani continued his story there was pin drop silence in the room. We always heard stories from grandma of gold being buried inside our houses, but dismissed them as children stories. Now as she heard Mani, she couldn’t believe her words coming out to be true. All were still, wanting Mani to continue the story. Anna found it difficult to control his excitement as did everyone else and asked him to carry on.
Mani took another sip of water, “That night we were completely blank. God had blessed us with our hard-work and we had no idea what to do with it. We divided the gold among ourselves and wanted to leave for Madras. We were dreaming of leading a life like that of wealthy… we would buy land, house, motorcar… have servants… [and he went back to his dreams]
“So why are you here?” There was a trace of anger in Anna’s voice now. After all it was our gold and he stole it. The question brought Mani back to reality and he felt guilty for having been greedy.
“Anna, we were supposed to leave for Madras tonight. Over the last few days we’d enquired here and there and almost everything was as planned. Yesterday when I went to his place he showed me where he had kept the gold. It was in two bags inside the trunk under the bed in the inner room. I asked him to show it and found that both the bags contained equal amount of gold. We again spoke of how life will be no more same for us and vowed never to leave each other and be friends for life. Today morning after I got the tickets for the bus, while I came to his house I found it vacant. The front door was open and everything was there except for Ponnu and the trunk. I searched every corner of his house… even the house owner does not have any idea about Ponnu’s whereabouts. I felt cheated; I did not want to believe that it’s true… I wanted this to be a dream… but he has left. I’ve searched the entire town and asked every possible person… no one has seen him since morning. Now I do not know where to find him and so I’ve come to you.
Silence... And finally everyone came to brace the truth –the stories were true. We had gold and lots of it.
We belong to this rich Brahmin community which had owned hectares and hectares of land about some 400 years back. The income was good and with no banks being available in those days, the money used to stay close to the owners. Over the years business kept on growing and never was there a need to dig up the gold which was hidden away for a rainy day and so generations after generations almost forgot about it. Until the water pipes were laid…
Well that was almost three decades back but the incident is etched in my mind as if it had happened only a few days back. Though the gold is gone and by god’s grace we never had felt a need for it, there is just one question that I have in my mind –If it were me, I would not risk my stake and bury ALL the gold in one place. And that would mean…
“Hand me the pickaxe… ”
It was almost 7 ‘o clock that May evening, 27 years back in a small sleepy town about 200 kms from Madras. The young crowd including me were all highly thrilled. We were having the water connection being given to us which would mean uninterrupted water supply from the Govt. fitted taps. The two Sarkari[govt.] men who were digging up the ground to lay the water pipe were working nonstop and wanted to wrap up the whole job as soon as possible. But at the same time they took their own sweet time to start it. Anyways we’re not complaining, but thoroughly enjoying the new connection. After getting the connection we got drenched and played in the mud till we’re left with no energy. Over the next few days everybody found a greater convenience in the new connection and were gracious to the folks to have provided the connection –until one week later…
We were playing some outdoor games when one of them –Mani came running looking for my dad.
“He went away… took all of it with him.., I was the one who found it... I hit it first… but he took it away from me…” he said this while panting for air and deliriously searching for my dad.
“What happened Mani?”
Mani was still short of words and just collapsed on the ground; it seemed as if he’d run a long distance. He was given some water and sweets while we all gathered around him to listen to what he had to say.
With tears in his eyes and looking like a man who’s lost everything in life he started, “Anna, I was the one who spotted it, but he cheated me. I found it right there” and pointed to one corner of our compound where the pipes were laid. He was still dazed and there were a lot of people gathering outside so Anna took Mani to his office room. We were not allowed to enter his study so we waited outside the window.
“Mani what are you talking? What did you spot?”
“Anna, GOLD!!! The pot was full till the brim. Full of big gold coins” while he showed with his hand how big they were. And our eyes just popped out!!! Even though we’re kids but still knew what gold meant.
“Anna, I found it while I was digging to lay the water pipe… I hit the bronze pot with my pickaxe… I was confused by the sound that it made –Thun, that of metal hitting metal. I was curious then so I continued digging but carefully. At the same time I was getting excited and couldn’t control it myself so called Ponnu over.
“It was heavy… very heavy. We hid it as soon as we realized what it was and finished the work and hurried to his home. There we closed all the doors and windows and emptied the contents of the pot. There were about 450 gold coins and one gold chain with 7 gold coins fixed to it.
As Mani continued his story there was pin drop silence in the room. We always heard stories from grandma of gold being buried inside our houses, but dismissed them as children stories. Now as she heard Mani, she couldn’t believe her words coming out to be true. All were still, wanting Mani to continue the story. Anna found it difficult to control his excitement as did everyone else and asked him to carry on.
Mani took another sip of water, “That night we were completely blank. God had blessed us with our hard-work and we had no idea what to do with it. We divided the gold among ourselves and wanted to leave for Madras. We were dreaming of leading a life like that of wealthy… we would buy land, house, motorcar… have servants… [and he went back to his dreams]
“So why are you here?” There was a trace of anger in Anna’s voice now. After all it was our gold and he stole it. The question brought Mani back to reality and he felt guilty for having been greedy.
“Anna, we were supposed to leave for Madras tonight. Over the last few days we’d enquired here and there and almost everything was as planned. Yesterday when I went to his place he showed me where he had kept the gold. It was in two bags inside the trunk under the bed in the inner room. I asked him to show it and found that both the bags contained equal amount of gold. We again spoke of how life will be no more same for us and vowed never to leave each other and be friends for life. Today morning after I got the tickets for the bus, while I came to his house I found it vacant. The front door was open and everything was there except for Ponnu and the trunk. I searched every corner of his house… even the house owner does not have any idea about Ponnu’s whereabouts. I felt cheated; I did not want to believe that it’s true… I wanted this to be a dream… but he has left. I’ve searched the entire town and asked every possible person… no one has seen him since morning. Now I do not know where to find him and so I’ve come to you.
Silence... And finally everyone came to brace the truth –the stories were true. We had gold and lots of it.
We belong to this rich Brahmin community which had owned hectares and hectares of land about some 400 years back. The income was good and with no banks being available in those days, the money used to stay close to the owners. Over the years business kept on growing and never was there a need to dig up the gold which was hidden away for a rainy day and so generations after generations almost forgot about it. Until the water pipes were laid…
Well that was almost three decades back but the incident is etched in my mind as if it had happened only a few days back. Though the gold is gone and by god’s grace we never had felt a need for it, there is just one question that I have in my mind –If it were me, I would not risk my stake and bury ALL the gold in one place. And that would mean…
“Hand me the pickaxe… ”
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
Onsite... Finally Gotcha!!!
Sam was highly excited when he came to know about it. This was something he had always dreamt of but some or the other hurdle would bounce up and delay the good news. But this July afternoon it was final. Sam was leaving for Brussels for a couple of months and after that for a year working out of the Eiffel Tower City –Paris. His designation would be that of an onsite coordinator for his account. He would be finally living the dream of every IT worker… working at client location, in a different country, seeing a different culture and earning a better currency than what he’s earned for the last three years. Finally the future was looking bright for him… Or is it just a mirage? Hiding the real life and giving a phony one?
Not all was hunky dory for him… his travel plan had to be shelved by a week due to administrative issues… Think about it… you’ve got the work permit, the visa, have informed friends, thrown advance parties and still you’re on hold. Anyways, Sam’s on hold status was only for a week.
I have known Sam for more than 9 years and so was surprised to find a long long email from him once he had reached Brussels. It was surprising because it was longer than all the emails he’d sent put together. He shared his thoughts –right from packing his bag to wiping his as*. Welcome to no-water-in-toilet-land my friend.
To give you a brief background of Sam, he’s the happy go lucky type of person –very simple and a down to earth guy; non manipulative and straight on the face –all the skills which you should NOT have for an onsite coordinator… but he’s a fast learner and is single.
Though I had prepared him for the culture shock once he steps out onto the streets, but it was nothing close to what actually had happened with him. You of course cannot blame him, after-all it’s the summers and these Europeans just love the sun.
Well, Sam’s travel was a mixed bag of emotions… Yes he wanted to go and work at onsite, but at the same time he dreaded the moment… the final moment. You know its coming, you know only a few hours are left and you know you cannot do anything to stop it. It’s a strange dilemma. The thought of leaving back the people with whom your day started and ended and knowing that the next couple of days onwards this day would be history –and still not being able to do anything to stop it. The streets, the cafes, the gali, the nukkad –all would become history and this gives you a strange sense of loss… a loss which you keep hidden under the “Good Things” of onsite… a loss, which you knowingly want to embrace because there is something better –onsite. But ask them, whom you leave back home. Well, time stops for them… till the day you come back. Well, not actually, but they miss your presence in the initia few days, but then time is a great healer.
Sam’s parents and siblings came to see him off… after-all it was a very proud moment for them as well. They tried to look happy… they were, but deep down, they too knew –only a few hours are left and then their son would be away for a year. Though Sam stays hundreds of kilometers away from his parents, but still the thought of him being completely unavailable in person is something that would take time for them to understand… but again, time is a great healer.
Now talking about Sam, he was busy with his last minute packing but that did not sway him away from the small emotional and sentimental incidents that were happening. Like all happy Indian families –everybody wanted to drop him at the airport and a funny incident made the tension a bit lighter –but not for long. It was finally 3 hours for his flight to take off –time to enter… time to face the final moment. Like all good boys, Sam bid an emotional adieu to his near and dear once. For those couple of minutes when Sam held his parents in his arms for the last time that evening, he just wished a small wish: God please make it a dream, wake me up… I don’t think that I want to leave them back. But there was not enough steam in the though… it left him as soon as it had come and Sam was ready to face the future. Atta boy!!
As he turned and pushed his trolley through the security check in, he turned for one last time –his family, all standing speechless and facing the reality, wanting to see Sam for one moment more and waiting while Sam took in the picture of his family in his memories. It was time to move on...
But like I said, it’s over in a couple of minutes. Once you’re in there, its back to business –your visa, passport, boarding pass, baggage, weight issue. Once those got resolved Sam settled down to gather his thoughts –and focus on the good things that were waiting for him. Now its one year of away-from-India time while he shifted his thoughts to work. He’s waited for this one moment for a long time –now it was his time to prove himself.
His clients, his work, life in a new city, new people –a totally new experience and Sam just smiled to himself. Though I had asked him to get a window seat just behind the wings, he was too lost to have asked for that and was blessed with the sixth seat in the 3+4+3 Airbus A-340; one of the worst seats!!! And to add to it, he had an aunty [old] and a grandpa for company. And our man made the most of the situation by watching an old movie from the B&W era. Being a staunch vegetarian [only while taking food] Sam had his share of troubles while the airhostess tried to come in terms with the thought that such [extreme veggies] still exist. Finally Sam also did something that he would have laughed at –eat idly with knife and fork. There were a few other incidents which I am keeping away –Sam is a good friend of mine, and I want to keep it that way. Anyways, while all the drama happened thousands of meters above ground, Sam finally reached Europe.
It took him a couple of days to adjust to the new surroundings and as I gather from him, our Sam has started working, enjoying the new neighbourhood, the new way of life. And deep down, he also knows –one day he would have to leave all this and come back home. And I am sure even at that time he’d have a mixed bag of emotions… just as he had when he was starting for Brussels. Good Luck Sam. We wish you success. And yes, do not forget that we hope at least you’d do justice to the Indian tricolour.
Jhanda uuncha rahe humara !!!
Not all was hunky dory for him… his travel plan had to be shelved by a week due to administrative issues… Think about it… you’ve got the work permit, the visa, have informed friends, thrown advance parties and still you’re on hold. Anyways, Sam’s on hold status was only for a week.
I have known Sam for more than 9 years and so was surprised to find a long long email from him once he had reached Brussels. It was surprising because it was longer than all the emails he’d sent put together. He shared his thoughts –right from packing his bag to wiping his as*. Welcome to no-water-in-toilet-land my friend.
To give you a brief background of Sam, he’s the happy go lucky type of person –very simple and a down to earth guy; non manipulative and straight on the face –all the skills which you should NOT have for an onsite coordinator… but he’s a fast learner and is single.
Though I had prepared him for the culture shock once he steps out onto the streets, but it was nothing close to what actually had happened with him. You of course cannot blame him, after-all it’s the summers and these Europeans just love the sun.
Well, Sam’s travel was a mixed bag of emotions… Yes he wanted to go and work at onsite, but at the same time he dreaded the moment… the final moment. You know its coming, you know only a few hours are left and you know you cannot do anything to stop it. It’s a strange dilemma. The thought of leaving back the people with whom your day started and ended and knowing that the next couple of days onwards this day would be history –and still not being able to do anything to stop it. The streets, the cafes, the gali, the nukkad –all would become history and this gives you a strange sense of loss… a loss which you keep hidden under the “Good Things” of onsite… a loss, which you knowingly want to embrace because there is something better –onsite. But ask them, whom you leave back home. Well, time stops for them… till the day you come back. Well, not actually, but they miss your presence in the initia few days, but then time is a great healer.
Sam’s parents and siblings came to see him off… after-all it was a very proud moment for them as well. They tried to look happy… they were, but deep down, they too knew –only a few hours are left and then their son would be away for a year. Though Sam stays hundreds of kilometers away from his parents, but still the thought of him being completely unavailable in person is something that would take time for them to understand… but again, time is a great healer.
Now talking about Sam, he was busy with his last minute packing but that did not sway him away from the small emotional and sentimental incidents that were happening. Like all happy Indian families –everybody wanted to drop him at the airport and a funny incident made the tension a bit lighter –but not for long. It was finally 3 hours for his flight to take off –time to enter… time to face the final moment. Like all good boys, Sam bid an emotional adieu to his near and dear once. For those couple of minutes when Sam held his parents in his arms for the last time that evening, he just wished a small wish: God please make it a dream, wake me up… I don’t think that I want to leave them back. But there was not enough steam in the though… it left him as soon as it had come and Sam was ready to face the future. Atta boy!!
As he turned and pushed his trolley through the security check in, he turned for one last time –his family, all standing speechless and facing the reality, wanting to see Sam for one moment more and waiting while Sam took in the picture of his family in his memories. It was time to move on...
But like I said, it’s over in a couple of minutes. Once you’re in there, its back to business –your visa, passport, boarding pass, baggage, weight issue. Once those got resolved Sam settled down to gather his thoughts –and focus on the good things that were waiting for him. Now its one year of away-from-India time while he shifted his thoughts to work. He’s waited for this one moment for a long time –now it was his time to prove himself.
His clients, his work, life in a new city, new people –a totally new experience and Sam just smiled to himself. Though I had asked him to get a window seat just behind the wings, he was too lost to have asked for that and was blessed with the sixth seat in the 3+4+3 Airbus A-340; one of the worst seats!!! And to add to it, he had an aunty [old] and a grandpa for company. And our man made the most of the situation by watching an old movie from the B&W era. Being a staunch vegetarian [only while taking food] Sam had his share of troubles while the airhostess tried to come in terms with the thought that such [extreme veggies] still exist. Finally Sam also did something that he would have laughed at –eat idly with knife and fork. There were a few other incidents which I am keeping away –Sam is a good friend of mine, and I want to keep it that way. Anyways, while all the drama happened thousands of meters above ground, Sam finally reached Europe.
It took him a couple of days to adjust to the new surroundings and as I gather from him, our Sam has started working, enjoying the new neighbourhood, the new way of life. And deep down, he also knows –one day he would have to leave all this and come back home. And I am sure even at that time he’d have a mixed bag of emotions… just as he had when he was starting for Brussels. Good Luck Sam. We wish you success. And yes, do not forget that we hope at least you’d do justice to the Indian tricolour.
Jhanda uuncha rahe humara !!!
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