For a very long time I was romantically involved with the idea that the sole reason for Mr. Vijay Mallya’s riches was none other than me. At least till the time, I befriended a set of friends who seemed to be equally contributing towards his wealth.
This post is dedicated to one of my true love in life ‘BEER’!! With the looks like mine one might say that true love of my life being a woman is highly unlikely, but my love for lager is not by any means a compromise.
My courtship with lager dates back to my school days more precisely from my IXth standard. It was really thrilling to have a sip of anything remotely alcoholic back then. It was during those tumultuous days that one of my friends was able to lay his hands on a bottle of beer. Boy were we elated or what (we = three other friends+ me+ the guy who scored). We decided to curb our enthusiasm and to open that bottle only when a safe house was available (none of us had the courage to drink in any place which did not have a door and a lock which would require a gas cutter to get through). But this decision of ours presented us with a new set of problems. First obviously was the storage of the bottle and second was to find a way to cool the beverage. As usual yours truly had the honor of solving the first problem (it was not out of choice, I was rather forced into it, it was either me keeping the bottle or the bottle being disposed off). For the second we brainstormed on an array of ideas which ranged from amazingly innovative to amazingly stupid (Kindly note that keeping the bottle in the fridge was not an option). Finally, it was unanimously decided that there was a long way to go before we had our first taste of chilled beer, for now we will have to settle for beer with ice. It was my friends’ place and the date was 27th of May and we were on our way!!
Then came my college days, days when we were invincible, we had the world at our feet, of course with the exceptions of all the Semester examination days and the month-ending days and those times of a day when you ingested the amazingly unpalatable meals at the hostel mess….. (Well, you can not feel invincible all the times, now can you?). Those were the crazy days (and for all those with the misfortune of hanging out with me these days…..yes, those days were crazier than these!!). And the juvenile courtship that had started of in my boyhood had now turned into full blown love/lust. Even a single moment without beer seemed like an eternity, and believe me, I have lived through a lot of such eternal eternities. All I could think of, during those eternities was the next beer. Where to arrange for the money (regretting all along the purchase of a curriculum related book, which to me was nothing more than a showpiece when parents came visiting)? How to smuggle a bottle into the hostel without my friends noticing (in which case it had to be shared with the entire hostel)? How to cool the stuff (of course our old foe Mr. Thermodynamics never ceased to trouble me enough)? All these outrageous types of problems had pushed me to think of even more outrageous types of solutions. E.g. the problem of cooling was solved by immersing the bottle in the common room water cooler (all my hostel-mates reading this, now you know why on some days I used to avoid cold water from the coolers). Smuggling of the bottle was done in a very simple but effective way, carry two bags, and in one of them carry a few packets of snacks/anything edible and the bottles in the other. Walk very nonchalantly towards you room and on being noticed, try to protect the bag containing the eatables and believe me the Einsteins would go only for that very bag, after a while let them have the bag as if you are relenting, and while the suckers are busy with the eatables, you can very easily smuggle in the precious cargo. You can say most of my college days passed, plotting and scheming for the above cause, till we hit the phenomenon called “Final Year, Final Semester (FYFS)”. FYFS refers to the last five months of the graduation period, and the graduate in question, spends that period drinking and partying, and more drinking and more partying. It’s a five months long fiesta, which is all about having farewell drinks with friends, apparently because you might not meet again in your entire life and this might be your last drink together (totally ignoring the fact that you were drinking with the same set yesterday and you guys would be drinking tomorrow as well).
I have come a long way from those “Wonder Years”. I have seen many a bottles bought, many a bottles opened, many a bottles gulped down. The testimony to the fact is of course the condition of my bank account by the tenth of every month and my amazing looking belly (I do repeatedly make failed attempts to try and pass it off as one conglomerated version of the ever elusive “Six Pack Abs”).
But the end, all I’ll say is, days pass and I buy a larger pair of jeans but the thirst remains….Burp!!!
This post is dedicated to one of my true love in life ‘BEER’!! With the looks like mine one might say that true love of my life being a woman is highly unlikely, but my love for lager is not by any means a compromise.
My courtship with lager dates back to my school days more precisely from my IXth standard. It was really thrilling to have a sip of anything remotely alcoholic back then. It was during those tumultuous days that one of my friends was able to lay his hands on a bottle of beer. Boy were we elated or what (we = three other friends+ me+ the guy who scored). We decided to curb our enthusiasm and to open that bottle only when a safe house was available (none of us had the courage to drink in any place which did not have a door and a lock which would require a gas cutter to get through). But this decision of ours presented us with a new set of problems. First obviously was the storage of the bottle and second was to find a way to cool the beverage. As usual yours truly had the honor of solving the first problem (it was not out of choice, I was rather forced into it, it was either me keeping the bottle or the bottle being disposed off). For the second we brainstormed on an array of ideas which ranged from amazingly innovative to amazingly stupid (Kindly note that keeping the bottle in the fridge was not an option). Finally, it was unanimously decided that there was a long way to go before we had our first taste of chilled beer, for now we will have to settle for beer with ice. It was my friends’ place and the date was 27th of May and we were on our way!!
Then came my college days, days when we were invincible, we had the world at our feet, of course with the exceptions of all the Semester examination days and the month-ending days and those times of a day when you ingested the amazingly unpalatable meals at the hostel mess….. (Well, you can not feel invincible all the times, now can you?). Those were the crazy days (and for all those with the misfortune of hanging out with me these days…..yes, those days were crazier than these!!). And the juvenile courtship that had started of in my boyhood had now turned into full blown love/lust. Even a single moment without beer seemed like an eternity, and believe me, I have lived through a lot of such eternal eternities. All I could think of, during those eternities was the next beer. Where to arrange for the money (regretting all along the purchase of a curriculum related book, which to me was nothing more than a showpiece when parents came visiting)? How to smuggle a bottle into the hostel without my friends noticing (in which case it had to be shared with the entire hostel)? How to cool the stuff (of course our old foe Mr. Thermodynamics never ceased to trouble me enough)? All these outrageous types of problems had pushed me to think of even more outrageous types of solutions. E.g. the problem of cooling was solved by immersing the bottle in the common room water cooler (all my hostel-mates reading this, now you know why on some days I used to avoid cold water from the coolers). Smuggling of the bottle was done in a very simple but effective way, carry two bags, and in one of them carry a few packets of snacks/anything edible and the bottles in the other. Walk very nonchalantly towards you room and on being noticed, try to protect the bag containing the eatables and believe me the Einsteins would go only for that very bag, after a while let them have the bag as if you are relenting, and while the suckers are busy with the eatables, you can very easily smuggle in the precious cargo. You can say most of my college days passed, plotting and scheming for the above cause, till we hit the phenomenon called “Final Year, Final Semester (FYFS)”. FYFS refers to the last five months of the graduation period, and the graduate in question, spends that period drinking and partying, and more drinking and more partying. It’s a five months long fiesta, which is all about having farewell drinks with friends, apparently because you might not meet again in your entire life and this might be your last drink together (totally ignoring the fact that you were drinking with the same set yesterday and you guys would be drinking tomorrow as well).
I have come a long way from those “Wonder Years”. I have seen many a bottles bought, many a bottles opened, many a bottles gulped down. The testimony to the fact is of course the condition of my bank account by the tenth of every month and my amazing looking belly (I do repeatedly make failed attempts to try and pass it off as one conglomerated version of the ever elusive “Six Pack Abs”).
But the end, all I’ll say is, days pass and I buy a larger pair of jeans but the thirst remains….Burp!!!
