Ramblings of a delusional dumbass

"Take your documents" Sid said, lighting his Gold Flake. At first we thought he was joking. He was always a joker, we had a nervous laugh and returned to our serious discussion. "I'm serious, you fuckers. Take your documents- study certificates, marks cards, passports, bank passbooks, fucking birth certificate if you can get your hands on it. Take it all" He said again. The joke was getting real old, considering what we were talking about. "Enough with the jokes man, Sid" Prakash intervened. "This is not one of your..." "Shut up Sid" I pitched in. "Come on man. This is not the time." "Look man," Sid leaned in and looked at Prakash square in the eyes. "You are running away with your girlfriend. You have no fucking idea if you parents will accept you both..." "Well they will accept me. They have to! I am their only s..." "Yeah. Yeah... let me finish you faggy. IF they don'

It's affordable. It's good. And I haven't tried it yet. But that shouldn't matter. Because, like the Royal Enfield and the RX100, its reputation precedes its name. But unlike the latter two, the Old Monk hasn't tried to tinker with the genetics of its golden egg laying goose (metaphoric, of course) to produce bigger, better quality golden eggs and fail miserably in the process. The Monk lives by the age old motto- Don't try to fix it if it ain't broken- which has worked out very well for the brand so far.  The quintessential Indian alcoholic drink that has for decades helped nurse ailments ranging in severity from common cold to broken hearts. Any Old Monk aficionado will tell you that the rum's popularity is solely due to word of mouth publicity. No, seriously, for a brand of rum that has a cult like following, it doesn't even have an official facebook page. Yet, Old Monk is a name that is familiar to many, even the non drinkers,