Oyin Shaap

The state government is always up to something with regard to the liquour business: it allows bars to be opened, then closes them. It suddenly tells all the wine shop (that's what liquour stores are called, although they almost never sell wine) owners to bid for their vending licences at auction. Then it calls for new auctions. Every time something like this happens, a great deal of money changes hands. And the government blocks some products made in other states, so that we never get Riviera wines, made in Maharashtra; or Grover wines, made in Karnataka; or Kingfisher Premium beer. (Plain Kingfisher, which we do get, is good; but Premium is great.)

So, recently the government announced that it would henceforth sell all liquour from its own stores, and shut down all the wine shops. I've driven past a couple of the shabby-looking places, with their green and white government signs, but haven't stopped.

When the newspapers refer to these events, they never talk about the shops' 'customers:' they always use terms like 'tipplers,' 'guzzlers,' 'drunkards'...

One term which seems to have gone out of fashion, sadly, is 'boozard.' It sounds Elizabethan to me, and it was common at one time.

Another thing I will miss, unless the government does another flip-flop, is the term 'wine shop.' I like it because, when transliterated into Tamil, it becomes 'oyin shaap.' I don't know why, because it's possible to transliterate it as 'vaayin shaap', which works better for me. But oyin shaap is certainly more fun to say.

Oh for the good old days, when this guzzler could stagger down to the oyin shaap for a bottle of Honeybee Brandy! What kind of world are we living in, anyway?

Breakdown of the day: Two light switches have to be replaced, because ants have made a home behind them, and eaten the wires to dust.