Rosalyn D'Mello: Whisky? I'll drink to that!

On the morning of my birthday last week I woke up at 6 am to the thrilling patter of moist leaves and the ominous clamouring of clouds Delhi was already beginning to flood so it seemed and I hadnrsquot even had breakfast As I lolled in bed soaking in the consuming wetness of the earth I found myself introspecting about the year past that had brought me here to the brink of 31 The high point of my life as a 30yearold I realised was in January when because I was on the jury of the prestigious Prudential Eye Art Awards in Singapore I was handed a business class ticket on an Air India dreamlinerIt is no secret that I love single malt I never imagined when I had my first sip of Laphroaig how indelible the memory of it would prove PicThinkstockIt was an evening flight and an hour after we had begun to cruise the high skies the air hostess emerged from behind the curtain drinks trolley in tow Irsquod decided Irsquod probably ask for a glass of red Having been to the lounge at the airport where they had a clear sign informing Indian passengers they were only entitled to two drinks each and having seen their rather poor whiskey menu I imagined red to be safer But then I spied an unopened bottle of Talisker in the corner of the trolley shelf I restrained the ecstatic heartleapinginsideme convulsive fit I was in and calmly asked for a glassldquoOn the rocks Marsquoamrdquo she askedldquoIce on the side pleaserdquo I repliedShe gracefully acquiesced Before I could dedicate myself to my drink I decided to run through the inflight entertainment menu It seemed like the perfect moment to finally watch An Affair to Remember When the air hostess returned with a plate of chicken tikka kebabs for me to snack on she noticed Irsquod been sipping my drink like a miser desperate to prolong the sanctity of each sip Without asking she poured me a second glass almost to the brim and handed it to meldquoSo you donrsquot need to ask againrdquo she saidI was euphoric I could now savour my Talisker as I watched the classic film Sleep was for businessmen Irsquod catch up on it in the hotel roomIt is no secret that I love single malt Ever since I was first introduced to it by a dear friend and longtime collaborator I never expected to fall for it so steadily and irrevocably especially since I was never a whisky drinker always preferring red wine instead of grain I still enjoy red wine and delight in spending hours poring over labels to locate a good harvest and a great blend But I never imagined when I had my first sip of Laphroaig how indelible the memory of it would prove As I said to a friend a few days ago I can understand why a wine connoisseur could spit out a draught of red after rolling it around the contours of her mouth swirling it around to extract its complex flavours Red wine dances along the tongue the textures sit upon it long after you have either swallowed it or spat it out But the mysteries of single malt are only revealed after it has glided past your throat and you can trace its foray into the pit of your stomach The roof of your mouth detects the subtleties of peat the smokey redolent flavour that seems almost intangibly delicateI performed the same ritual I have recently appropriated as part of my routine whenever I find myself with a glass of single malt I ask for ice on the side and a cocktail stirrer I make do with my fingers in the absence of one I dunk a single cube into the liquid then I install the leg of the stirrer or my finger tips to swirl the ice around so that it marginally chills its contents while unveiling its densities opening them up so they are better revealed Then I extract the ice and abandon itYesterday as I was reading the introduction of House Spirit Drinking in India by the anthologyrsquos editor Palash Krishna Mehrotra I felt first disappointed then just annoyed that the book had contributions by at least 25 men and just two women The only reason Irsquod bought it apart from my personal and academic interest in the subject of alcohol was to read Manohar Shettyrsquos essay lsquoConduct Unbecomingrsquo Manohar has been a dear friend for many years and I love his poetry He had often told me about his decision to quit alcohol and I was interested in reading his essay about the struggle But I wasnrsquot prepared for the gross underrepresentation of womenrsquos relationship with alcohol As a corrective my next two columns will be dedicated to nonteetotalling women and what we mean when we say ldquoLetrsquos get a drinkrdquoDeliberating on the life and times of Everywoman Rosalyn DrsquoMello is a reputed art critic and the author of A Handbook For My Lover She tweets RosaParx Send your feedback to mailbagmiddaycom