71\/100. You know how we talk about not judging others for their choices? How we talk about fighting stereotypes? How we fight that if a woman smokes, it is just an unintelligent a choice as that of any male smoker – it is NOT a reflection of her character? How, if a woman drinks, it does not mean anything more than just that – an adult enjoying a legitimate adult pleasure? In our fight to stop labelling, we often don’t realise the other side of labelling. What about the person who chooses not to drink? And is judged because of her choice? <\/p>\n
I don’t drink. Not at all. I just don’t like the taste. And the two odd times I tried a drink, I did not like the feeling. And so, I chose to be a teetotaller. For the record, I did not grow up in a household where alcohol was taboo – my dad and uncles and some aunties were all people who enjoyed a drink occasionally. It was never a big deal – either way. Just a choice and a preference – like mutton or paneer. <\/p>\n
But, outside of the family, when I chose to be a teetotaller, it seems I also chose a lifetime of being judged. I forget the number of times I have been asked, “Not even wine?” Or, “Is it a religious thing?”. I don’t mind this at all. But, in my younger years, what did pinch was, being labelled all the things I was not. Though I could party the night away with the best of them, I was called a fuddy duddy, a stick-in-the-mud and a downright bore. Just because I did not drink. But this was still not that important. Over the years, it was ridiculously easy to be labelled conservative, rigid and worst of all, judgmental. Again, simply because I do not drink. I have no problems being uncool, but being judged all the while because of a simple choice does become wearing after a point. Is it too much to expect that I not be judged for not drinking? <\/p>\n
Anyway, in the beginning of November, came an assignment that involved talking to the owner of this new lounge in town with an interesting name – the Great Booze Story. The name is such because, according to the owner, who among us doesn’t have that one great booze story to share? <\/p>\n
Who, indeed? Even I have one. Just that, when it comes to alcohol, it’s more the great blues story for me. The assignment provided the perfect opportunity to air my blues. So, I wore one of my favourite sarees from my stock of blues. An indigo Kota doria bought from Kamala, the outlet of the Crafts Council of India that has a little story to tell. The saree, bought about six years ago, did not come with a blouse piece. I was not yet comfortable mixing up textures or wearing ‘unmatched’ blouses. So, in a burst of inspiration, I went to Fabindia to hunt for an Indigo Kota dupatta. I found one in a pretty pattern and voila, I had my blouse! <\/p>\n
The lounge was the perfect counterpoint for me in a saree. And given that one of the most senior photographers in Kolkata was with me, how could I not pose? Here I am, at the bar, raising a drink. So what if it’s coffee? Whether it’s claret or coffee, here’s raising a toast to our own poison of choice. Cheers, all! <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
71\/100. You know how we talk about not judging others for their choices? How we talk about fighting stereotypes? How we fight that if a woman smokes, it is just an unintelligent a choice as that of any male smoker – it is NOT a reflection of her character? How, if a woman drinks, it…<\/p>\n