Drinking when your state is dry

     My father was what we call as a chain smoker. He smoked at home, with no regard for second hand smoke. No one knew the word second hand smoke leave alone its effects on others. He used to smoke WIlLS. He always seem to have a packet of it rather than single cigarettes. I never did go to any shop for buying anything, only time I remember is going to the bunk shop in the road opposite to Doak college. It was a Sunday and we had meat at home and after finishing his lunch he reached for his packet. It was empty. In spite of  my mothers resistance and annoyance he asked me can you go to the shop near the bus stop and get me a packet. I remember gingerly walking in the sun and getting him his cigarettes'- that's the 70s for you asking your 7 or 8 year old to get a pack of cigarettes.  

    He took me to GH many a times. If I had leave, as both my parents were working I invariably tagged along with him rather than my mother. My fathers works space was better. As he worked in the x-ray department- it was cleaner and was slightly away from the other departments. When the first built it they should have been aware of the radiation leaking to other departments- so was kept slightly afar. Unlike other departments this was truly a sausage festival. Those guys also had a rest room. It was similar to what you could see in a 50 Hollywood movie. You open it and in the center there was this hanging, sort of focused bright light over a carom board. A wall hanger where most of the men have removed there shirt and hanged it. They were all in there wife beater, either around the carom board or lying on a small couch. It was filled with smoke and there was not a movement of let down. I don't know what these men did in the hospital but they seem to smoke, hang out and play. It was all around a club house inside the hospital. It could be strange for people to think the hospital workers smoked so much in side the hospital. I don't remember my father playing but did smoke heavily and had a jolly time with others. The point is he just smoked all the time. By the way I never thought I have never seen a kid in that room ever, hmm. 

    At the time Ananda Vikudan was a popular Tamil magazine. It was shared among neighbors, as it had some stories, movie reviews and jokes which were popular. In one of the issues in the late seventies, it had a hard hitting article cover story with a macabre photo of a hand coming out of cigarette stubs al a Sevapu Rojakal movie scene. My mother was concerned and pleaded to stop the habit. Well, it worked for 4 days and he went back to his merry ways. 

    Our fridge, which was a luxury item in the 70s had bottles of all sizes with water in it. As you can imagine the need for fridge was not great. No one was storing batter or veggies like now. It was made or brought every day. So, ours had some veggies and most of it was bottles water. These bottles were all- empty whiskey bottles. Drinking in the 70s was a task, The state had prohibition, like now people still think drinking is a vice. Father, like everything in his life- living it large was his life's philosophy. He loved drinking and in a dry state that means you have to be creative. You either find illegally brewed hooch, which was rather dangerous. Not with the police, but the hooch being deadly. The other way was what father did- get a certificate saying your are a addict from a doctor. that was easy for him. He had a group of friends who were not from the GH. They were all from his old neighborhood and they all had different business. Many of them had the certificate also. With the certificate the government issues a permit card- sort of ration card, to buy hard liquor. The rationale being these guys who are addicts are given a small amount which they have to ration everyday. Well all my fathers friends were drinking for fun. So one day they will all meet in one house, drink the whole bottle on that day. One of fathers friend was a big shot, with some connects abroad. Those guys still have a famous Lungi and kerchief brand in Madurai. I think he could get some whisky from abroad. Once they had it in our house, and my father told me- go and play in Kanna and thanni's* (that was his pet name)  house. Came home after sometime to empty bottles and some soft drinks. My father showed me a trick to take the alcohol smell from the bottle. You lit a match and throw it in, the few remaining drops and the vapors in the bottle catch fire- it was a neat trick. 

  

 Love

Hariohm