Golden Jubilee

Golden jubilee 

I have crossed my life’s golden jubilee a long time back. My wedding golden jubilee is still 6 years away. The golden jubilee I am presently celebrating is of my first gulp of alcoholic drink. 

It was in this fine city of Mumbai, (then Bombay) circa 1971 that I imbibed my first drink. The place where a local patron took me for a drink was behind Hindmata cinema in Dadar. The cinema hall, as well as the bar, is extinct now. 

The country liquor bar was in a narrow aisle with benches on both sides, but no tables. A dirty curtain hung on the entrance. Fiery spirit in an unwashed glass was drinkable only because I was 20, silly, and excited for an unfamiliar experience. At 20 years old, I thought I own the world. 

I spent my youth and college days in prohibition-laden Gujarat. Imbibing alcohol here was a cardinal sin for a Brahmin boy. When I moved to Ahmadabad for my MBA, few rascal friends introduced me to the pleasure of XXX rum smuggled from the Army. 

We drank in darkness late in the night with the light switched off. The conservative Gujarati housing society nearly kicked me out of my tiny flat when the garbage collector found few empty rum bottles and reported to the society secretary. 

My first trip from Mumbai to Goa by a Mogul Lines ship from Bhau cha Dhakka (local jetty) widened my drinking horizon. Kaju feni was a cheap drink onboard the ship. Feni kicked me hard, but the atrocious taste put me off that drink. 

In my days at Hari Niwas, Churchgate, gin, and lime became my staple drink. I guess the taste did the trick and the delightful Venice bar that was apparently the favorite hangout of World War II soldiers. The bar still exists as a part of the Astoria Hotel behind Eros cinema. A joy to watch McKenna’s Gold at the Eros after a couple of Gin and lime was indescribable. 

Beer followed soon. These were the good old days of Golden Eagle, Haywards, and London Pilsner. Vijay Mallya was perhaps in the college then, and the magic of King Fisher was yet to prevail. New York beer bar was my favorite place; beer served with warm Bombay wafers. The bar still exists at the corner of the road leading from Nana Chowk to Chwopaty road. But air-conditioning has killed the charm and lost that open feel I got from its wide doors from where I watched gentle Bombay traffic flow. 

On a trip to Madras (now Chennai), a bearer of the Dadar-Madras Mail introduced me to Aristocrat whiskey. He ran out of the station at Daund and bought a quarter bottle for my pleasure. Royal Challenge came in the mid-1980s but we survived on McDowell whiskey for many years. 

I tasted my first dry, classic Martini during a chance visit to the Sea Lounge at the Taj Mahal Hotel at Colaba. After 40 years, I still enjoy that at the same harbor-facing table when I visit there. V. S. Naipaul said that having a drink in Sea Lounge watching Bombay rains lashing the Gateway of India makes him want to stay in this city he hated otherwise. 

During the long journey of the joy of drinking, I never enjoyed vodka. A Russian colleague and a friend, Mr. Kuderasov, gifted me a bottle each Christmas and in return, I gave him a bottle of Sula Satori wine. The vodka bottle he gave me stayed in my bar for years before I gave them out to sundry friends. 

Under the mistaken belief that wine helps lower cholesterol, I drank gallons of it for some years. I even installed a large wine cooler at home. I gave all that up and changed over to Rosucrest 10 mg which dramatically lowered my lipids. I enjoyed some of the European wines though and occasionally a glass of Argentinean. 

My overseas travel introduced me to scotch whiskey that became my anchor drink for decades. I do not know when I transitioned from blended whiskey to the single malt, but I would guess it was in a bar in The Hague when barman poured me one. He said blended whiskey is for mugs. Ever since I have remained faithful and not changed my drink. 

I make an exception to single malt only when I travel by the Shatabdi Express from Anand to Mumbai when I return after meeting my sister. Then I carry two miniatures of Old Monk rum, a can of Coke zero, and a packet of nuts. Bears of the train know better than to bring my dinner tray before I finish my drink. 

In my retirement, I now enjoy Amrut and John Paul India-made single malt. I am proud that India makes such high-quality malt whiskey.

 I am more proud that I enjoy them during my Golden Jubilee year. Cheer to all of us is what I would say this year.