Raising the Bar ......My 'Plum' assignment for Christmas !

Came across a news item in the Deccan Herald a couple of days back about a study in Finland that concludes that consumption of alcohol is likely to be more if there is a bar in the vicinity. Well, if this were really true, every other resident in Bangalore would have been an alcoholic. Go to any area in Bangalore, whether the items of immediate daily necessities like bread/vegetables/medicines are available or not, a wine shop will certainly be there (may be my definition of “daily necessities” is all wrong).Often the shops dealing in these spirits also have “spiritual” names like Mahalakshmi Wines, Chamundeshwari wines, Saraswati Wines, Tirumala bar and so on.
But the tragedy of a bar being too near is that “respectable” folks like me cannot approach them unnoticed by other “respectable” folks of the neighbourhood lest I get branded as alcoholics synonymous.
This put me in a very piquant situation once. About three decades back, we were residing in a comparatively conservative area (at that time ) that is Malleswaram.My wife decided to bake a plum cake. One of the important ingredients is rum. The rum essence could have served the purpose but she wanted the “real’ thing. This was needed immediately so it had to be brought from the neighbourhood wine store. Sending my wife or daughters was ruled out so the task had befallen on yours truly. But then, my daughters had serious misgivings about my going because if I were found loitering anywhere near the bar by any of their class mates, the next day whole school will be agog with the news that their dad goes to the bar ( `ek bar` could easily be interpreted as `bar bar`). One ingenious suggestion came that I could go there with a hood. But I put my foot down and refused to go in a fancy dress.
Ultimately, the task had got to be done. It was approaching dusk so I was less likely to be recognised and at the same time I could expect thin crowd at the bar. I made my trip, hopefully unobserved, to the wine shop. I asked the guy at the counter to give me a bottle of rum. That chap had seen me in a nearby bakery but never at his bar. He gave a look meaningful look as if to say,neevu yenne asami antha gotthirlilla!(Did not know that you were also part of the drunken crowd)!

“Sir,ille beka?” (Want to have it right here?),he asked. I looked at him blankly and then the coin dropped. He wanted to know whether I wanted to consume it right at the counter of the shop. I shuddered to even imagine myself doing so. Then he showed one bottle for my approval. I told him nothing doing.My wife wanted only ‘old monk’.
He gave a startled look as if to say, paravagilve, madammu hakthare. (Not bad,didn't know that your wife is also a party).
I asked him to pack it quickly. I rushed home with my booty without getting noticed and placed the packet triumphantly before my wife. She eagerly opened it and her face dropped. I noticed disappointment written all over her face.
“Ayyo ,idu tumba chikku sizu.Idaralli moneyplant hakokke aagalla.”(This is too small a size.One cannot grow money plant in it).
I need to raise bar the next time!