I am a shop but more like a pigsty in a town, Kozhencherry in Kerala, in God’s Own Country. My walls are dirty and covered with mud, grease and slime. I have a narrow corridor reaching to my entrance which is on both sides covered with metal barricades. I open at 10 in the morning and close at 9 in the night. Even before I am open, people of all flocks come and stand in a queue and wait eagerly for my metal shutters to open. Some people take particular care to cover their faces with a helmet so that their identities will not be revealed. I watch with glee and schadenfreude at the pain people take to come and buy my elixir. Some people buy two or three, then even more happier. Some of the people buy me and gulp me raw and fall down pissed. There are others who just after buying me open their shirts and stuff me into their bellies. Sad to say my time has come. People have complained about me telling that I am nearby a school and in the heart of the town. Then all of a sudden without any notice they Govt. had decided to execute me. Now I am lying in my grave.