I had a very very long hectic day at work. And since such days never ever allow you to think beyond the bath in the evening, the dinner after that, and the bed at the end of it all, I abandoned all effort to break that routine.
I got home late too that evening. My charming readers know very well how much I love to whine about the traffic that insists on making me stay in a bus that remains at the same place almost for fifteen minutes every ten odd minutes later. Anyway, so I walked in through the door rather late and threw myself in the chair closest to me.
"So you're late?" This was Mother Dearest striding out of the kitchen into the hall.
"Yes Mother."
"How come?"
"Well, the usual traffic."
"I know. This one was complaining about it. She was telling me she spent half an hour..."
If I had to tell her to be quiet, she wouldn't. If I had to tell her to shut up, I would be treated to a long and winding lesson about how I must choose carefully before letting my tongue fly. So, I did the next best thing: I stopped listening and stared at the wall. There was the spider weaving his web rather daintily across the wall and there was the mosquito willingly flying into his parlour. As I began to imagine how grateful the spider must have been for such a ready meal, I heard something that sounded like Elizabeth Taylor.
"What is it that you said just now Mother?"
"What?"
"You said something about Elizabeth Taylor, didn't you?"
"Oh yes, she died."
"She died!"
"Yes, she died today I think."
"Today?"
"Perhaps yesterday."
"Yesterday?"
"Either today or yesterday - I am not quite sure."
"Oh I see. And I went back to staring at the wall."
---
Half an hour later, I was still quite taken up by Elizabeth's death. So, I SMSed a few acquaintances:
Did you know Liz Taylor's dead?
Acquaintance 1 replied with: 'What? Googling it now.'
Acquaintance 2 replied with: 'Yeah.' Which was as good as no reply sent at all.
And
Acquaintance 3 probably had enough pressing matters at hand to not bother to reply at all!
---
"She lived a full life."
"Well, that's stating the obvious."
"How did she manage - I have no clue."
"Manage what?"
"The men and the marriages?"
"Oh that! Well, she managed them well. She did manage to divorce them all. None of them divorced her."
"None?"
"Well, one decided to die in a plane crash. Barring him, none did."
"I see. But how she managed, really?"
"It's easy. All she had to do was sign the papers. It's very simple. You can try that too."
"Shut up and eat there!"
"Well, that was just a suggestion. "
"Eat eat!"
I guided my bread to my mouth. Just as I was about to bite into it, Mother began all over again.
"Eight husbands! Eight husbands!"
"Seven Mother seven!"
"Seven?!"
"Yes she married Richard Burton twice."
"Oh yes. That fellow was another nut."
"That I agree to. I remember he was dead drunk when he did Camelot with Julie Andrews."
"Oh he was, was he?"
"Yes yes, Julie herself said so."
"I see."
This time when the pause came, I finished my morsel and looked around for another slice. I tore it apart rather than cutting it in two. I am - most of the time - a dignified fellow, but within the confines of my own home, I throw dignity and knives to the winds. So, with that acquired savagery, I finished my dinner and headed off to sleep.
----
"She had AIDS!"
"What?"
"She had AIDS!"
"Oh please Mother, I am sure there's some misunderstanding."
"See I went to this BBC Web site and there this man comes and says this about her."
"Says what about her?"
"That she had AIDS!"
So I brought up BBC and looked for the man who made that stupid statement.
"Is this the man?"
"Well, I saw no man."
"You mean you saw a video and heard the man saying all that?"
"Yes yes. Can't you hear what I said?"
"Okay okay, let me look then."
And I searched on BBC.com for the video in question once more. A few minutes later, I realized why she said what she did..
The video began by talking about a certain village in Great Britain that Elizabeth and Richard had spent some time in. And then it took the form of the usual obituary that made Elizabeth appear the diva she was. "Her combat with AIDS," the narrator said, "has given hope to millions all over the world or something similar."
A judicious choice of words but not quite the one to leave doubt out of the way. In fact, far from making things clear, it had given a new twist to the death.
"See see? He says her combat with AIDS."
"So?"
"He doesn't say her efforts to spread AIDS awareness or something like that."
Mother was quite right but I was in no mood to find fault with the BBC.
"But Mother," I said, "she didn't have AIDS. I know she didn't. She had a whole buffet of diseases, but definitely not this."
"Then why he's saying-"
"Well Mother just because she lived a full life doesn't mean you just hand her AIDS on a platter you know! How can you even think that?"
Mother of course did not know what to say. And so, I quickly put the lights off and went to bed.
I got home late too that evening. My charming readers know very well how much I love to whine about the traffic that insists on making me stay in a bus that remains at the same place almost for fifteen minutes every ten odd minutes later. Anyway, so I walked in through the door rather late and threw myself in the chair closest to me.
"So you're late?" This was Mother Dearest striding out of the kitchen into the hall.
"Yes Mother."
"How come?"
"Well, the usual traffic."
"I know. This one was complaining about it. She was telling me she spent half an hour..."
If I had to tell her to be quiet, she wouldn't. If I had to tell her to shut up, I would be treated to a long and winding lesson about how I must choose carefully before letting my tongue fly. So, I did the next best thing: I stopped listening and stared at the wall. There was the spider weaving his web rather daintily across the wall and there was the mosquito willingly flying into his parlour. As I began to imagine how grateful the spider must have been for such a ready meal, I heard something that sounded like Elizabeth Taylor.
"What is it that you said just now Mother?"
"What?"
"You said something about Elizabeth Taylor, didn't you?"
"Oh yes, she died."
"She died!"
"Yes, she died today I think."
"Today?"
"Perhaps yesterday."
"Yesterday?"
"Either today or yesterday - I am not quite sure."
"Oh I see. And I went back to staring at the wall."
---
Half an hour later, I was still quite taken up by Elizabeth's death. So, I SMSed a few acquaintances:
Did you know Liz Taylor's dead?
Acquaintance 1 replied with: 'What? Googling it now.'
Acquaintance 2 replied with: 'Yeah.' Which was as good as no reply sent at all.
And
Acquaintance 3 probably had enough pressing matters at hand to not bother to reply at all!
---
"She lived a full life."
"Well, that's stating the obvious."
"How did she manage - I have no clue."
"Manage what?"
"The men and the marriages?"
"Oh that! Well, she managed them well. She did manage to divorce them all. None of them divorced her."
"None?"
"Well, one decided to die in a plane crash. Barring him, none did."
"I see. But how she managed, really?"
"It's easy. All she had to do was sign the papers. It's very simple. You can try that too."
"Shut up and eat there!"
"Well, that was just a suggestion. "
"Eat eat!"
I guided my bread to my mouth. Just as I was about to bite into it, Mother began all over again.
"Eight husbands! Eight husbands!"
"Seven Mother seven!"
"Seven?!"
"Yes she married Richard Burton twice."
"Oh yes. That fellow was another nut."
"That I agree to. I remember he was dead drunk when he did Camelot with Julie Andrews."
"Oh he was, was he?"
"Yes yes, Julie herself said so."
"I see."
This time when the pause came, I finished my morsel and looked around for another slice. I tore it apart rather than cutting it in two. I am - most of the time - a dignified fellow, but within the confines of my own home, I throw dignity and knives to the winds. So, with that acquired savagery, I finished my dinner and headed off to sleep.
----
"She had AIDS!"
"What?"
"She had AIDS!"
"Oh please Mother, I am sure there's some misunderstanding."
"See I went to this BBC Web site and there this man comes and says this about her."
"Says what about her?"
"That she had AIDS!"
So I brought up BBC and looked for the man who made that stupid statement.
"Is this the man?"
"Well, I saw no man."
"You mean you saw a video and heard the man saying all that?"
"Yes yes. Can't you hear what I said?"
"Okay okay, let me look then."
And I searched on BBC.com for the video in question once more. A few minutes later, I realized why she said what she did..
The video began by talking about a certain village in Great Britain that Elizabeth and Richard had spent some time in. And then it took the form of the usual obituary that made Elizabeth appear the diva she was. "Her combat with AIDS," the narrator said, "has given hope to millions all over the world or something similar."
A judicious choice of words but not quite the one to leave doubt out of the way. In fact, far from making things clear, it had given a new twist to the death.
"See see? He says her combat with AIDS."
"So?"
"He doesn't say her efforts to spread AIDS awareness or something like that."
Mother was quite right but I was in no mood to find fault with the BBC.
"But Mother," I said, "she didn't have AIDS. I know she didn't. She had a whole buffet of diseases, but definitely not this."
"Then why he's saying-"
"Well Mother just because she lived a full life doesn't mean you just hand her AIDS on a platter you know! How can you even think that?"
Mother of course did not know what to say. And so, I quickly put the lights off and went to bed.
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