BENGALURU: Of course, drinking is wrong. This column in no way, Dear Reader, encourages you to take up drinking, as it is harmful and causes you to act foolishly. But folks do drink. And I count myself among them. I am not the inebriated brother who can be seen cursing the high heavens outside wine shops at 10.30 am. After all these decades years, I like to think of myself as a gentlemanly drinker. The kind who has conversations watches a few YouTube videos, and falls asleep.
There are many people like myself, and in all our lives, there exists a Daya Anna. He solves a problem in the market - of wine shops closing by 11 pm. He then delivers alcohol to customers and charges a reasonable surge price. In a way, it is an act of compassion, and there couldn’t be a more apt name than ‘Daya’ (compassion).
My connection to Daya Anna now extends beyond a decade. When we met, we were both finding our feet in our careers. Daya Anna was an employee of a nearby wine shop and had begun moonlighting as a bootlegger. I was fostering dreams of being a writer/standup comedian. Back then, I would request two beers, and Daya Anna would deliver them personally.
Years passed. But no matter what I did, or where I was in life - there was a comfortable knowledge that Daya Anna was nearby. Together, we witnessed historical events. We witnessed historical events together. When India won the World Cup, Daya Anna joined the crowds in the jubilant celebrations.
When PM Modi implemented demonetisation in 2016, I was concerned that Daya Anna might be impacted. But there he was! The very next night, offering clients a card-swiping machine to pay with. He swiftly transitioned to QR code scanners and was one of the early adapters to Digital India. Our journey began with SMS services, and eventually progressed to live location sharing and digital payments.
When the world came to a grinding halt due to the pandemic, I was again worried if Daya Anna’s budding business would withstand the impact. The day wine shops were allowed to open, and lengthy lines snaked in front of the stores - I went to Daya Anna. Daya Anna’s business has expanded and flourished as the world gradually returned to normalcy. There were days when he invited me in for a chai. On other days, he would be bruised after being apprehended by cops. But through it all, there was the friendly smile, an affirmation, and the familiar honk of delivery.
When I asked for a few beers yesterday, I was proud to see how much Daya Anna’s business had grown. He stated that he’d only deliver if the order was a minimum of six beers. His minion came to deliver the order. Daya Anna had clearly developed a team. I see pictures of his kids in their stylish school uniforms on his WhatsApp DP. I felt a sense of pride. I called him to thank him, and he replied with a ‘Hmmmm’, and asked if I wanted more beers. I hung up after saying no.
Perhaps Daya Anna has lots of strangers calling to thank him for his service to society. For, every passionate drinker has a Daya Anna in their lives. Who does it despite the risk to themselves. They are the unsung heroes of sanity, the unseen source of smiles, the tranquillisers of emotions, and the soother of nerves. They are the heroes we need, but don’t deserve - after 12am.
(The writer’s views are his own)