Where the hell is goold old Bourbon

The curly haired, cute looking boy from the neighbouring house is a regular visitor. And his visits unlike most kids his age are not noisy or tantrum filled. They are in fact, quiet and business like. He gets off his cycle, goes on his toes to open the gate and then parks his cycle like all gentlemen do, before hitting the doorbell. Nice size zero footwear are neatly parked at the threshold before he quietly makes his entry into the house. The routine is clinical. He first mounts the sofa and sits there for a while. A minute, maybe two. And then quickly dismounts and heads off to the kitchen. ‘Swalpa kara kodi (something spicy please)’, he then matter of factly asks mother. And whether the savory of his liking is available or not, he promptly gets to business. His daily dose of biscuits - chocolate cream biscuits. Its Bourbon and Bourbon alone that will pass. It’s this little man’s caviar. You give him anything else and he nods dismissively with a ‘why don’t you understand’ look and says ‘Cream brown irbekku (the cream has to be brown)’. And seeing him tuck away one into his pocket and hold onto one for the road, as he cycles away into the sunset is what life is one of life’s little joys.

Father has been ill the last couple of days and the little man’s Bourbon routine has been severely affected. A supply side shock of this magnitude has taken even this ‘no thrills and frills’ gentleman by surprise. And so, for the third consecutive day, when he was turned away from his quota, he just nodded disgustingly and headed home almost in protest. And did not bother coming today. After all, how much ‘No’ can a man of 5 hear?

In a quick move to appease the little guest, home affairs quickly dispatched me on a biscuit shopping errand today. Wonder what happened to good old Bourbon. Three different shops and no stock anywhere. So I bought chocolate cream biscuits of two varieties – Pure Magic and Tiger Chocolate. Will the little man like it? Only tomorrow will tell.