It’s amusing the people you see these days dying hard, lovin’ it, “cnt liv widout ma bae OM!!” over what has historically been a choice when there is no other choice – Old Monk. Urban surfers who wouldn’t touch a Kingfisher over a Heineken, who’ve never had to pick a Smirnoff over Absolut Vodka. Facebook babies who have no idea how Old Monk came into our lives, and what meaning it has in the financially stricken, “stranger in a strange world” existence that is Indian student-life.

You see, there is such a thing as a bandwagon. Just because Old Monk is on ScoopWhoop’s “You Won’t Believe What He Ordered Next..” and Buzzfeed’s “Top 10 Things about Old Monk that will Blow Your Mind” doesn’t mean you need to profess your undying love for that otherwise plain looking, cheap bottle you didn’t spare a second glance at the club.

Loving Old Monk means picking Old Monk over expensive whiskey at the bar. Loving Old Monk means remembering nights in shady bars with little ability to afford even coca cola and mixing lukewarm water instead. Old Monk was what you drank then because it was all you could afford on an everyday basis. Old Monk is what you drink now because there’s always going to be some mixed with your blood and it needs company. Loving Old Monk means not doing goddamn shots of rum anymore because you’ve done that in younger days and learned that it’s NOT A GOOD IDEA. Old Monk is not your precious cute hashtag instagram buddy, it is the friend, philosopher and guide whom you share with and confide in when no one is around to listen, for he has been witness to your many misadventures. Old Monk knows your secrets and your lies, so you face it with nostalgia and more than a little humility, as a student in front of its master. Old Monk is not your selfie piece placed oh so casually by the side of the table, before you put it away and order your fancy cocktail which so perfectly defines your unique personality. Old Monk is in your skin when you wake up again, and feel rum oozing out with the morning heat. Old Monk is not chugged like some sparkly vodka substitute, Old Monk is respected and ridden gently, for it will throw you off and leave you by the side puking your guts out if you don’t. Old Monk is not what you do tonight at the party for Facebook likes and glories, or the link you share from listicle sites to be cool or retro or frugal or whatever other hashtag you want to be seen as today. Old Monk is what you do when Old Monk is what you want to be – chill and dark and the all-knowing motherfucker of good times and bad.

 

“Oh, he’s such a snob!”

“Oh no, everything doesn’t have to be this way! My experiences are my own! Waaaaannnh!”

“Oh, I’m so offended by his casual dismissal of my i10-driving, club-hopping, instagram-ing ways!”

Bleargh. Dont care. End of story.