No, this post is not about patriotism or concerns for my motherland. Rather, it’s on an unusual subject for me to write on. It’s about the locally-brewed liquor (called “Desi” or “Country” in Indian drinker’s parlance).

All my friends and acquaintances will be highly-amused on reading this post, because they know me to be a teetotaler. Worse, I am known to lecture my social-drinker friends, and spoil group-outings by refusing to go anywhere near a bar. Many people wonder where did I get this distaste for alcohol in all existing forms, and people who drink it. Well, here is the reason:

I spent significant part of my childhood in Bastar, M.P. (now Naxal-infested, and part of Chhattisgarh), where my dad was posted. Now, Bastar’s native population are “adivasis” (tribals).

These adivasis were then very fond of two things: merriment and mahua (a country liquor brewed from mahua flowers). Now, merriment and drinks are important ingredients for any party, you would agree. And the advasis just knew how to party. Only, it was called mela.

Mela happened this way: there would be a huge gathering in an open space, with a smattering of shops selling cowries, ornaments, eatables (such as ant eggs, a delicacy), and of course mahua. Men and women dressed in their best and adorned with magnificent head-dresses would come from nearby villages to participate. Suddenly some women would break into a song, menfolk would soon join in with their musical instruments, and a huge group dance would start. And as the music reached its crescendo, mahua would start to flow. Little cups, made on-the-spot by leaves, would be filled & refilled with mahua, as the party-goers on a high danced away the night. The party would end late in the night when the party-goers, now too tired and inebriated to stand up, would try to stagger home. There would be many brawls on the way, much shouting, and general nuisance. Many wouldn’t make it home, and make their bed in roadside ditches and fields instead.

It was a common sight following morning to find a stinking, puke-&-pee covered mass of humanity coming to in their respective resting places to find their bearings, and stagger home. I saw many such repeat performances, and it created a lasting impression on my young mind: “Drinking country liquor is BAD.”

But then, I was wrong. Many years later, when I moved to Mumbai as a young professional, I watched a group of colleagues getting drunk much the same way; only this time it was beer and hard liquor. Next morning while they battled hang-over, I recounted the ruckus they created previous night. When I chided then for drinking so much, one colleague retorted, ”So what should we have had? Country?” ‘Um..no…“, I said, “I think both are the same, both make you make a fool of yourself.”

So folks, I’ve learned my lesson and hope that you’ll too; that drinking is BAD whether it's country or phoren.

Now, now, don’t roll your eyes saying, “There she goes again…”

Tags: bad, bastar, country, desi, india, drink, liquor, mahua, tribal