I am by no angle a believer in all religions. Yet, when it comes to holidays, I am determined to believe them all and apply for leave to help the cause of each faith. So, it should come as no surprise that I was at home yesterday 'celebrating' Bakri Id!
Haha! Well, it was a celebration of sorts. I woke up a full hour later. I watched an episode of Home Improvement. And then, I sat and laughed at the rather amusing final episode of the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. After all, it's a truth universally acknowledged - in the circles I roam in - that there can be nothing funnier and hilarious than watching Elizabeth Bennet and Lady Catherine De Bourgh fight for their respective perspectives of honour, family, and happiness!
Later, I ran off to Strand - near Fountain and bought:
Needless to say, I spent as if I am all set to run off to Canada the next day. I bought t-shirts, shirts, a sweat shirt, and didn't bother to look at the receipt.
It's only in the evening when I was at home and trying out my new 'collection' that I realized one of the t-shirts had two tiny tears around a very noticeable area.
"You should have checked."
Actually, I tried just three of the eight I grabbed from that store. But telling Mother this is like offering your neck willingly to the guillotine: So I decided against it. I hit upon a rather lovely idea: I lied.
"I did check," I lied. "This was the only one I didn't."
"Oh I hope you have the receipt."
"Of course, I do."
"And the labels?"
"Yes. And I showed her a whole set of them."
"All these?"
"No just these" - and I separated the ones associated with the t-shirt from the lot.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because, Mother, I bought it - that's why."
"Oh but you're sure this is the one?" she asked as she lifted a label that belonged to another t-shirt.
"Not that one Mother, this one this one!" And I held up the right one.
"Oh but you never know for sure."
"Yes, but I do."
"Well, I'm keeping ALL the labels! Take them all with you. You can never be sure!"
"You mean you can never be sure."
"Yes yes. I have a terrible experience before."
"But I haven't Mother. I know for a-"
"No harm in taking them, is there?"
"Well no but-"
"Then take them all." And with an air of finality, she dumped them all into a bag.
Well, I have lived quite a checkered life - things did change rather slowly in between, but change they did. However, one thing that has never changed is Mother's finality in every conversation. It has stood there - high above every other pedestal of confabulation and never ever yielded to pressure.
And since - now - I am too old for the drama, I just let her pedestal be and quietly go pay my obeisance to the one stand on!
Haha! Well, it was a celebration of sorts. I woke up a full hour later. I watched an episode of Home Improvement. And then, I sat and laughed at the rather amusing final episode of the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. After all, it's a truth universally acknowledged - in the circles I roam in - that there can be nothing funnier and hilarious than watching Elizabeth Bennet and Lady Catherine De Bourgh fight for their respective perspectives of honour, family, and happiness!
Later, I ran off to Strand - near Fountain and bought:
- Waiting for Godot
- The Alchemist
Needless to say, I spent as if I am all set to run off to Canada the next day. I bought t-shirts, shirts, a sweat shirt, and didn't bother to look at the receipt.
It's only in the evening when I was at home and trying out my new 'collection' that I realized one of the t-shirts had two tiny tears around a very noticeable area.
"You should have checked."
Actually, I tried just three of the eight I grabbed from that store. But telling Mother this is like offering your neck willingly to the guillotine: So I decided against it. I hit upon a rather lovely idea: I lied.
"I did check," I lied. "This was the only one I didn't."
"Oh I hope you have the receipt."
"Of course, I do."
"And the labels?"
"Yes. And I showed her a whole set of them."
"All these?"
"No just these" - and I separated the ones associated with the t-shirt from the lot.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because, Mother, I bought it - that's why."
"Oh but you're sure this is the one?" she asked as she lifted a label that belonged to another t-shirt.
"Not that one Mother, this one this one!" And I held up the right one.
"Oh but you never know for sure."
"Yes, but I do."
"Well, I'm keeping ALL the labels! Take them all with you. You can never be sure!"
"You mean you can never be sure."
"Yes yes. I have a terrible experience before."
"But I haven't Mother. I know for a-"
"No harm in taking them, is there?"
"Well no but-"
"Then take them all." And with an air of finality, she dumped them all into a bag.
Well, I have lived quite a checkered life - things did change rather slowly in between, but change they did. However, one thing that has never changed is Mother's finality in every conversation. It has stood there - high above every other pedestal of confabulation and never ever yielded to pressure.
And since - now - I am too old for the drama, I just let her pedestal be and quietly go pay my obeisance to the one stand on!
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