Gentle warning that I feel very very strongly about this subject and it may read like I am having anger outbursts/nervous breakdowns/panic attacks through the course of this piece. It is because I was, in fact, having them. I have loved Old Monk ever since I stepped into a dimly lit, cheap bar and I don’t think I will ever stop loving it.
Neaar, faaar, wherever you areeee: When our hearts yearn for Old Monk, it’s there. It’s available pretty much across all regions of the country. Be it an expensive bar or a dark hole on the wall, Old Monk is omnipresent.
Dark like our souls: This might not be the ultimate dark rum, but it’s pretty damn good. It has a balanced flavour, crude enough to make the tapori in you happy, strong enough to knock you out.
Prices, macha: This is definitely the best thing about Old Monk. It’s so freaking cheap, its target group is legit brokeass college children. It restores my faith in humanity, to think that even towards the end of every month, we can still afford a quarter of Old Monk. *khushi ke aansu*
Tastes fucking fantastic: For its pricing, this stuff tastes great. Admit it, you can have a lakh rupees in your pocket, but you’d still drink Old Monk happily. Ask a liquor expert (yes, that’s very much a real job), if you can. They shall tell you how much better Old Monk is, compared to other 8-year-old rums.
It’s an emotion: Old Monk is what we started drinking with. It reminds us of heartbreak, graduation, goodbyes and the time we almost died over a toilet bowl. It’s been an inevitable part of our cycle of life and we don’t plan on letting it go anytime soon.
Old Monk is there for youuuuu!