FRANCIS DOES NOT DRINK, SORRY

He will only pretend to drink, occasionally. And pour the drink away when no one is looking. Just like today. When some strange desi daaru gave four people a serious buzz. ( For my fellow South Indians, Daaru is the word for liqour over here. Note to self: Why did the Bawa boy advocate it so vehemently? Does his family own the brewery? Look this up. )

The very same Desi Daaru caused them to sit on Marine Drive, at that really beautiful spot, look up at the sparse stars and drink it from orange Minute Maid bottles and laugh like idiots when it started raining. Huddle under a single umbrella trying to get warm, while smoking cheap chocolate cigars. And then hire a horse carriage to take them to Modern Stall on Roadside Which Has Kickass Shawarma for Dinner. All the while singing loudly through Colaba causeway in a fashion reminiscent of retarded squirrels. (Playlist included: Let's get it started, Baby by Bieber, the Flintstones theme, Something by Backstreet Boys and Hey Jude)

At the end of it, everyone's smackeroo, and I've laughed at their antics and conversation so much my stomach hurts. Like when one special lady sprayed horrible Brut deo into her face instead of onto her wrist (When you're drunk, understanding a nozzle is as easy as solving Fermat's last theorem). Seriously, when everyone else is in la la land, you don't need alcohol.


Here's to you, Sankara Special.


Now, if only I could do the whole night over without the alcohol and a certain Lady..I guess you can't have everything. Damn you, Murphy.