Plastic knives aren't a public nuisance

The past week was full of activity. In some relatively insignificant news, the ruling government’s continuing love-hate relationship with The Right’s opposite (which, some consider ironically, isn’t Wrong) took another handful of twists, a lady (who, again, some consider ironically, is half an illusion) took another step towards her cherished dream of leading this very country, another few hundred children were born, another brawl decorated our (some consider ironically) national game and the relationship with our neighbours, and a few more hundred children were born. But the one big news development over the last weekend (which, nobody considers ironically, dominated prime-time on most of our news channels) was the launch of (proclaimed to be India’s most legen-wait-for-it-darrry) chat show hosted by (again, nobody at all considers ironically) India’s most loved (at least if it is assumed that TV channels show what the people want) celebrity, who I shall refrain from naming because of possible notices being issued. The show’s first guest promised that whenever he needed an item number in his movies, the first person he’d call would be the host and played, as he does with any role, the good guest to perfection.

In some more small (compared to the big news, a drop in a glass of sea buckthorn juice) news, a family was out shopping in a city (wrongly conceived to be, on many an occasion, in Orissa, Kerala, Tamil Nadu and in one extreme case, Gujarat) southwards on the eastern edge of the country. After a not-so-difficult purchase of a pair of jeans, and another piece of footwear, one of them left the others at a pastry shop and left, mysteriously, to don’t-know-where. After 20 chocolate-gulping minutes at the shop, which included a few embarrassingly dangerous ones with the kid saying ‘Hi!’ to an unknown lady and smiling at her after he thought she whispered his name, with her (apparently) fat (quite apparent) boyfriend staring right down at him and his mom right beside him, they left for home. At around midnight, when the kid was busy with yet another Sudoku puzzle and his mom was trying to get a few forty winks (after some mentally draining attempts at the day’s newspaper’s Sudoku puzzles), his brother mysteriously vanished (again), apparently to take a phone call. He returned with a (now customary) warm hug, a ‘Happy birthday’ wish followed, and, a (now customary) kiss from mom, a (now customary) ‘Appi Baa-day to you’ and a few (always ready) tears from his aunt, and a (quite big) bite of his favourite chocolate cake later, the kid received one of the surprises of his life- his first guitar! The kid, happy enough to jump for dwarf planet Ceres, eagerly tore the zip down to show off the skills he had (visibly, quite badly) learnt back at his hostel. After quite a few totally out-of-sync notes, and a spattering of his (visibly, quite poor) knowledge of the instrument, he gently placed it back for a (one more?!) bite of the cake and started taking calls and replying to messages. He couldn’t sleep that night, in excitement, in total surprise and, most importantly, in simple love for his family. Even the fact that a few girls may miss ‘scrapping’ or messaging him their wishes (or rather give it a miss), or even a few close (guy) friends might do the same (which, in another show of endearing love, they didn’t!) or a million other not-so-positive thoughts couldn’t stop him from sporting one big (for once, not fake or Rishi Kapoor-ish in any way) smile in the darkness of the bedroom. Apparently, the kid was now officially an adult, which he seemed to like in some ways for the sake of a few acts like voting and driving, but just age can never determine that justly. So, the kid’s heart felt content as he went to sleep, one more day, as a kid.

P.S. - The kid wants to thank every single wonderful person who wished him on his birthday, and also those who forgot and those who chose not to.

P.P.S. – Sea buckthorn juice isn’t great, try Black currant; looks like red wine and tastes like heaven!

P.P.P.S. – The kid chooses not to drive in public interest and not (to quote his History & Civics textbook) to exercise his franchise, in private.

P.P.P.P.S. - Pizza Hut burnt quite a hole in the pocket and The Dark Knight is a nice movie.