Early Morning Musings Part 8

Literature is a very powerful substance to get high on and can be both an upper and downer and everything in between.

Take Murakami i.e. 1Q84. While the beginning was slow and tedious like drinking brandy neat, Parts II and III go down sweetly like honey.

This is in stark contrast to Churchill’s six-volume history of the Second World War. Like a good scotch from start to end, I was drinking it down in gulps like somras.

But if you are a cocktail person – getting drunk quickly – short and sweet and high – what other than a Tintin comic – or if you are Old Fashioned, an Agatha Christie?

However, if you need to forget him, or her, or them, or all of them, then there are a plethora of Russians ready to serve you and give meaning to your existence - the Karamazovs, Raskolnikov, Anna, the Rostovs or even Lolita. All garnished with enough layers so that you forget everyone else.
And if you are drinking to make futile arguments, which in the end mean nothing. Which you don’t mind forgetting after an impassioned defence of, an argument you will believe after a few reads, but realize was pointless in the morning and your friends would agree, the Russian you must seek is Ayn Rand.

Are you a wine person? Why not open an old bottle of Dalrymple? Colourful body, steady taste. But if you are not careful, the glasses go down like water and before you know it, you have popped open a new book. This however does not apply to sangrias. If you are partial to them, then you should be partial to Asimov. The multiple fruity tastes charm you, and as you ponder the complexities, they hit you when you least expect them to!

If you are stuck in nostalgia, stuck in your college life – the Old Monk days – then I would regretfully, but justifiably recommend a Patiala of Harry Potter. Stick to it, you will weep. If you want to graduate to a MaQintosh or Oaksmith, open a Game of Thrones. That will at least stop you from texting your ex. But if you have that package about which you proudly post on LinkedIn, why not open a bottle of 50-yr-old Tolkien? Smooth, steady.

But say you are celebrating, and everyone is screaming “Shots! Shots! Shots!” but you don’t want to get that bottle of tequila and don’t mind the watered-down shots they normally serve, order Rupi Kaur and the new Terribly Tiny Tales. But if expense is not an issue, and you want to do good shots, want to reach peaks you did not know existed, and have a designated discusser to get you back home, all you need to do is ask for Also Sprach Zarathustra.

Of course, if you are unwinding, and just need something with low potency, loud, without too much meaning, not a guilty pleasure as such but something to put you at ease, why not just get a six-pack of Dan Brown, Amish, Chetan Bhagat, Meyer, EL James, and Archer?

A 30 of Va Pu and 60 of Pu La will always help you dispel the exhaustion of that randomly scheduled Zoom call, or if you are in a long one, and you don’t need to keep your video on, go ahead, mix a Mills & Boons in your coffee.

Me personally? I down a quarter, burp off a relaxed smile, lie on my bed, close my eyes and open my Dreams. That is where I explore the true depths of my story where Mercury is always in retrograde, Alice’s head is actually offed, where two moons (one smaller and greenish, lumpy) shine upon an Austrian activist writing about his struggle in Chateau d’If, my story of deciding whether to be or not to be the West Wind high o’er vales and hills, my story where Jatayu still flies!