Skip to main content

The Loot

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.

Popular posts from this blog

MBA Updates

I have been accepted into the Kellogg School of Management (1 year program) as well as the Harvard Business School for my MBA. I dont know which one to go to. It's an agonizing decision. Which one, dear reader? Which one?  Some very mature ways of decision making I have resorted to - - if I see two mynahs , it;s a sign I have to go to Kellogg. If I see three, I have to go to Harvard. - if the bus arrives in the next one minute, i have to go to Harvard. - if the leaf falls off the branch and touches my right shoulder, I go to Kellogg. ad infinitum, ad infinitum,and so on.

Elizabeth and Bette

It’s common knowledge that I am a huge fan of Bette Davis. So after an all too long time, I watched another Bette Davis movie – The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1938) in garish Technicolor . Bette of course delivered a stunning performance. There might be some places where she went a tad bit overboard but that was the way they acted back in those days (late 30s). She went as far as to shave her head to create the bald look of the aging queen. Her face was painted white for the entire movie. In all this hideousness, there was something heartbreaking about her portrayal of the Queen. There is this famous scene where she goes on a mirror shattering rampage in the palace. In about 4 seconds in this scene, she examines herself in the looking glass - at her most insecure, most vulnerable, most yearning and most without-a-mask moment. My heart went crack when I saw her just for these 4 seconds. For a minute when you see Bette acting out this breathtaking turmoil on screen, u do...

Dad

This seems to be a season of talking about family :-) ****************** I and my dad constantly bicker. Over everything. Over the laptop, over the last peanut in the packet, over the ‘mess’ in my room, over his lack of ‘cool’ clothes, over his 35 km/h driving, over the best place on the couch. Everything. Dad clogs up the laptop with guzillion web browsers talking about the latest political scandal rocking the old country in three languages (English, Hindi, Telugu). Dad belongs to the generation that considers work as the essence of life. Well, ethics too. And also, honour. And integrity. And..well, nevermind, let me get on. Dad can be as quiet as a cat when he wishes to sneak up to you and catch your greedy hand in the ice-cream tub. He reserves all his clumsiness, breaking unbreakable plates, banging into furniture for the wee hours of the morning. Even his morning Yoga exercises cause weird noises that awaken the stray cats in our building. Dad gives 200% to anythi...