Cheers To Myself, My Friend


Cheers To Myself, My Friend

Illustration: Namaah/ Arré


rnest Hemingway once said, “I drink to make other people more interesting.” I agree with the man, but only partly. I too drink to make other people more interesting. But “Papa” only drank with other people. I like to drink alone. Have done so every single day for the last 25 years. Hemingway was far too social for my liking; I’m much more a Bukowski kinda guy. Like Sartre, he believed “hell is other people” – and wrote lovingly of days and nights spent in quiet solitude with alcohol:

“You know the typical crowd, ‘Wow, it’s Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?’ Well, yeah. Because there’s nothing out there. It’s stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night… Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!”