All this birthday thingie has put me in a severe thinking mode. So that is a lot of grey cells squeaking in protest at the unaccustomed work. Serves them right too. All play and no work makes silverine's grey cells a dull bunch of grey cells. Which is a horrible thought especially when my aim is to be a scintillating conversationalist and brilliant raconteur and some other big words in the dictionary.
Growing older has made me very philosophical. I mean I am growing everyday like everyone. My cells are as amorous as anybody else's and are copulating and multiplying with the zest of an Indian population. But then one day when your folks put a cake in front of you and say “tadaaaaaan time to celebrate one years achievement of your cells” you are faced with questions for which you have no answer. Like why am I here…. when I should ideally be at a Hawaiian beach with a Cocktail in one hand and John Abraham in another? And other deep questions like why the heck do we celebrate birthdays? I can imagine our parents celebrating our birthday because they are proud of producing a little legacy that looks like a shriveled uppumanga (mangoes preserved in brine). But why should I celebrate my birthday? I didn’t do anything naah to come into the world? What I am trying to say is pure and simple. I DONT WANNA DO ANY WORK ON MY BIRTHDAY!!! :p
Talking of shriveled uppumanga I could never understand the fuss people make of new born babies!! Do you look at a shriveled uppumanga and say "soooo cute”? Besides unlike newborn babies, shriveled uppumangas don’t cry and poop and pee 24 hours!! And it can be used in a variety of ways when the wife is not talking to you like as a neat bread spread!
The year I was born was a momentous year. Several events rocked the World and humanity in general and it's repercussions are felt even today!! It was the year...
…the CBI sent their sleuths to Bangkok, Amsterdam, Hawaii, French Riviera etc to crack down on people indulging in some harmless fun. The sleuths never came back. The post mortem report said that they had died of “Debauchery” whatever that means. Many politicians on “Educational Tours” have also died of same mysterious ailment brrrr Of course I was too young to be an informer those days and point them to the kingpin, a certain Alexis living in the CET Men’s Hostel.
…when Mathew looked at the cute little gal in the neighbourhood and uttered his very first words to his mom. " Amma I won’t pee in my pants anymore. It is so uncool!". (Of course he didn’t see his mom and the cute little gals mom doing high fives behind his back).
…when Shruti's parents were growing more and more amazed to see their precocious daughter growing up to be a sensitive beautiful girl with a flair for words.
…when Brijesh's folks had already discovered what a bright and socially conscious son they have.
…when Angel Doc's parents were proudly waiting for their beautiful daughter to finish medical college and wow the medical fraternity with her …blog!!! I mean besides Mind Curry and Angel Doc how many docs do you see who write so beautifully? ( Wokay as of today I am sticking to Homeopathic medicines. Old jungle saying: “An enraged doctor is more deadly than a swarm of angry bees though not as deadly as a swarm of African bees”)
….when Jiby's parents were secure in their knowledge that their son was going to become a Priest and perhaps even a Saint at Loyola. (His poor folks dreamt of free boarding and lodging at the Vatican and perhaps a dip at the centrally heated Papal Swimming Pool and some quality time at the Papal Summer Palace after their jaunt on the Papal Luxury yacht on a tidy stipend from the Papal Bank. The jaunt on the Papal Luxury yacht was hurriedly removed from the itinerary by his mom when she came to know that the ladies in the G String bikini on the Papal Yacht were not an Order of Nuns as she previously thought.
...when Kusum's kindergarten teachers were debating if Arsenic or Potassium Cyanide were the quicker way to get rid of her. err...they were not planning to poison the irresistibly cute but naughty little Sindhi gal, but consume it themselves you see!
…when Di looked at her mom and uttered her first word: >:D<
Her mother said: Ente Ammme!! What language is our child speaking!!!
To which Div said: =((
Unknown to them their gardener, a certain Yahoo Chan had observed the whole conversation. He left the job soon after and went on to become a millionaire.
...when Flaashgordon's Dad and Mom were making their son vacuum the house blissfully unaware that their son would be a renowned Hindi maestro who would drive Hindi pundits to collective suicide but not before they tried every trick in the book to eliminate him.
…when Iyer Education’s appa, fed up of complaints from moms of little gals he promised to take “I, Iyer Iyest” was searching for him to give him a sound spanking!
( This post is a humble acknowledgment of the stars of this post for this!)