Why I don’t drink

I am often asked why I don’t drink. Everyone asks me: people in Pakistan and people in countries that are not Pakistan. I like to joke that I do drink—water, lemonade, coffee, chai. If I didn’t drink, I would likely die. No one ever wants to know why I don’t drink carrot juice or why I don’t eat hard-boiled eggs, but it is of utmost importance for them to know why I don’t drink alcohol. 

I don’t drink because when I was born, my Muslim parents recited the azaan in my ear and made me a Muslim. Alcohol is forbidden in Islam. That is why I don’t drink—so I will not go to hell when I die. Just kidding. Religion is selective. That’s not why I don’t drink. That’s what I like to tell Islamophobes is why I don’t drink. 

I don’t drink because I am a woman, and I am afraid that drinking and not being in control of my sensibilities will put me in danger. I am a person of impulse and passion, so it is likely that if I drank, I would do so with gusto and volume. Just kidding. I am a woman, so I am unsafe most of the time regardless of whether I drink or not. I am ironically in the most danger where alcohol is illegal: Pakistan. That’s not why I don’t drink. That’s what I like to tell creepy men is why I don’t drink. 

I don’t drink because, as I said, drinking has been outlawed in Pakistan since the 70s. I have been conditioned to fear state authority, and I happen to be a law-abiding citizen. Just kidding. Most laws are bullshit—Pakistani law also says that daughters inherit half of what sons do. That’s not why I don’t drink. That’s what I would tell Zulfikar Ali Bhutto is why I don’t drink. 

I don’t drink because I dislike the taste of alcohol. It is just disgusting. It tastes like mashed-up boiled egg yolks blended with carrot juice. Just kidding. I have never drank alcohol, so I don’t know exactly what it tastes like. That’s not why I don’t drink. That’s what I like to tell other Pakistani kids is why I don’t drink, so they don’t think I’m uncool for never having tried it. 

I don’t drink because my liver is weak—I may have gout. I cannot endanger my health and risk an intensified disease. Just kidding. I am young and healthy. That’s not the reason why I don’t drink. That’s what I will tell people is the reason why I don’t drink when I’m over 45 years of age.

I don’t drink because one night when I was small, my father drove me and my younger brother to my grandma’s place, where my mom was waiting for us. The car was going left and right, swerving dangerously on the potholed roads of Karachi. I was sitting in the passenger seat up front. I don’t remember many things vividly from when I was that young, except for the things that really terrified me. This car ride terrified me. After a while, the car halted on a dark roadside near a pile of garbage. I called my mom using my dad’s phone, which he was too indisposed to notice me using. His head was slumped on the steering wheel. I told her that dad was sick. My mom and uncle auditorily guided him home, sporadically whispering hushed Quranic prayers on the other end of the line. He smelled like shit and disappeared after we pulled up into the garage. I was distraught and had to console my brother Ali, who was maybe six at the time. We ate cookies and slept. I hated riding shotgun even a decade after. That week at school, we went to the chemistry lab to learn titrations, and it smelled like that whole night, and I connected the dots. That was my introduction to alcohol at ten years old. Many other things happened after that night, things that I would rather forget. That is why I can’t drink.