Now they can lie drunk this side of border

NEW DELHI, Dec 1: It is the first day of the month. It used to be a dry day along with the seventh day. The city's tipplers are rejoicing...

NEW DELHI, Dec 1: It is the first day of the month. It used to be a dry day along with the seventh day. The city’s tipplers are rejoicing: No more dry days. Freedom from blackmarketeers, freedom from the tension of last-minute hoarding, freedom in general. Of course, there is a catch — sales tax is up by three per cent.

In the middle circle of Connaught Place, the shadowed bylanes house some of the popular watering holes. After a hard day’s work, regulars start making their way to the theka. Some may walk up to the place like they did each and every day of their working life — counting the coins for that much-needed drink. Other, more privileged, ones drive up in their Cielos and either get their drivers to pop in, or may take pleasure in picking out a bottle of Campari themselves. Today, they can hardly believe that it is open. This particular shop is just right for the discerning buyer. A la off-licence shops abroad, you can walk along and pick bottles off the shelf. Of course, you have a burly duty man in a suit, who fits into the bouncer image, presiding over things. “Haan bhai kya chahiye?” he said to a meek-looking man who was standing and looking at the rows of bottles. “Old Monk,” he said. “Nahin hai Get a move on.” And so he herds people along — not exactly service with a smile.

Although, they are doing brisk business, the staff belonging to the Delhi government is unhappy. Reason? They have been robbed of the only two days off they had in a month. “Who is going to do all the housework?” moans the cashier. “Isn’t it our right to get one day off, don’t the labour laws mention something like that?” adds another one. They ridicule the concept that the government is going to get more revenue from this: “The prices have gone up anyway.”

Story continues below this ad

“Regular drinkers are well prepared for the dry days. They stock up, so what is the point?” A point which is reiterated by many. The bouncer’ makes a joke: “Arre, the public used to go to the border, get drunk and lie over there. The government had to do something to make sure that the people get drunk this side of the border.” They all have a good laugh, though they emphasise that it is not an amusing situation.

There is a certain degree of bonhomie amongst the staff and the regulars. A man comes in with a big bag of walnuts and starts distributing it to all with the refrain: “Jai Mata di!” The staff ask him about the weather and he asks them what has been happening while he was away. “That man (pointing to the cashier) is a teetotaller — similarly, my belief in God has nothing to do with drinking,”said Kohli, who works in Crompton Greaves.

D.K. Gaur, who describes himself as a contractor but “basically a designer” has a bit of a tiff with another about the effects of this move. “Look at me,I am drunk, I am carrying drinks with me and I am going to come back after I finish this. Do you think dry days stop me from drinking?” he said He added: “What I used to do like others was to go into those slums where they sell it in black.” Is it dangerous? “What is dangerous for an alchoholic?”