Birthdays are excuses to loot others through subtle relationship blackmail. People have become trained to be blackmailed that, these days, one hardly needs to lift a finger for one’s birthday.
Exasperated pal: “What do you want for your birthday?”
Me: “24 gifts. Each for one year of my age.”
With such subtlety, it’s hard to not to collect a bit ‘f loot, if you know what I mean. Here goes:
Sister's card will reach me in another 7 days. It was mailed in a hurry the night before my Bday. The mere fact that I haven’t murdered her yet, speaks volumes about the deep love I have for my sister.
Mama, braved a killing backache and a splintering migraine, to dish out a dinner for some special friends on the eve of my b'day. Pa bought this. (<-----)
Clearly, RR, could no longer stand my frenzied searches for the same book of AE Housman poems in my every library expedition. I jumped for joy upon unwrapping it and discovering this gem. The poems will be on my bed for a long time – only the favourites become my bed time reads.
An exquisite set of black beaded cum metal earrings from a classy female social chameleon. By an insanely bizarre, happy coincidence, I was looking for black earrings. Now I can wear that black number and make a killing (I hadn’t been able to due to the absence of the perfect earrings.)
Mammoth Tintin trivia book.
It’s no surprise that my love for insults started with Captain Haddock’s sailor language.
So, it’s no surprise that my eyes popped upon seeing this Tintin atlas.
But its an astounding surprise that Sgt Tpy had not pocketed (figuratively) it for himself. He claims that this sacrifice is second only to Karna’s kavacha-kundala sacrifice. For once, I grudgingly admit that he is right.
Such was my reckless temptation that I even took time out at work in the ladies restroom to glimpse into the breathtaking world within the book. I arm twisted him into giving me something else too, something spectacular. But that calls for a separate post. Soon.
Within a few minutes of declaring my undying love for Borders, I received this from JOH and XL. Believe you me, I nearly had a seizure imagining going on a Borders buying spree. Extravagances such as these are bad for my health, JOH & XL.
The pink delivery created a mini commotion in my cubicle region and drew looks from passer-bys on the way home. The delivery man couldn’t be more dramatic, the timing couldn’t be more bad – my boss was walking by at the very instant! But what a happy shocker on my Bday. The flowers: gorg, the chocs: sinful.
The poem was sitting in my inbox. CF's poem this year was as good as my 21st Bday poem. But I shant copy paste it here, as I know CF will publish all the poems in the coming years. Having two poems written about me by a serious poet is a delirium inducing honour to accomplish.
What next? Having a book dedicated to me? Anyone? :-)
And what about all the kind words from various other pals and playmates, friends and foes? They have remembered the best of me on my birthday. I cant take photos of the gladness your words have evoked.
Merci beaucoup, for the priceless loot - in gesture much much more than the goods.