There is something to be said about the joy (or sadness) of scoring a piece of charas.

First, the feeling-out process takes place as the piece is pressed and massaged between one’s fingers to discern the suppleness and pliability.

If it feels too hard, an immediate sense of disappointment starts to sets in. And if you picked it up without taking a good look beforehand, then the disappointment quickly gives way to genuine fear:

‘Fuck, am I going to have to smoke this? I hope it tastes better than it feels.’

But even if it does pass the metacarpal massage test, more trepidation follows:

‘Please smell good. Please smell good. Please smell good.’

Or, for some of us, depending on the time of the year or the desperation of the situation:

‘Please don’t smell like Vicks. Please don’t smell like Vicks.’

As soon as the initial layer of plastic wrap is peeled off, the aroma starts to escape the packaging and float around faintly, instantly providing the answer to the most important question:

‘Higher wala or medium wala?’

If all goes well, the beholder's face portrays an expression of relief, satisfaction, jubilation, and sometimes, even (an attempt at) a poker face. If you’re not so lucky, you can rest assured that it will be impossible to hide your grief



Whether you paid in rupees or kidneys, hopefully, you’re satisfied that you know what you’re spending on.

At least, you think you know what you’re spending on.

What if you were to find out that charas isn't what you think it is; that it is possibly far from the best investment to make for your recreational activities because of what goes into it?



This is the point at which all the highly affronted ‘Bombay Bhaijis’ begin to offer their gyan. But as a result of the amount of dhyan I’ve given this, no amount of gyan is likely to change my opinion on what I'm about to tell you. (I’m open to other opinions, but I’m going to need some amount of science to back them up to take them seriously.)