This post is written by my dear friend Shri who's graciously allowed me to cross-post it on my blog. Just reading it brought a tear to my eyes, and I don't know why.. maybe it's because life is beautiful if only we opened our eyes and 'saw', not just literally, but like the Na'vi's 'see'...
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Gold is a bubble, Diamonds spell trouble, you continue to get sold and the goblet of wine ads the zip to your soul-petrol. My waistline is 7 above my age-line which is 14 more than the size of my feet; which is in turn equivalent to my birth month; add 2 to it you get 13. 3+1=4 which is inconsequential. In short I completed 25 on the 13th of November 2011.
Salutations to most, greetings to many and thank you all for wishing,greeting, participating, waking up, eating and driving your soul on
this day. Things get complicated from here and I’m not Rahul Gandhi. You start assuring yourself, life, soul, the things you buy, the place you live the air you breathe, the steps you climb and reassure one and all starting with your parents, brothers and sisters, your employers even if fake, the Bachchans you meet and the Rajus you greet. In short, Sting’s song “Every breath you take” gets redefined with every beat. And this time it’s your heart. You’re not able to write the code for the Dream-to-Reality problem when it comes to real estates. You say “after all I wish to buy a house to live” and they say “Living in a dream is easier.”
Lose mental peace by 40%. Diminished hearing power by 20% and you take the same proportion of cynicism when it comes to accepting gifts alongside making a bucket list of your choice. I’m certainly getting nothing, but a copy of Tinkle Comics from my dearest one next year. However I won’t mind it if it’s No. 27 from 1983 when Suppandi was staged in the cradle by Mr. Waeerkar who shares his first name with the second half of my only name. Menus change and so do the restaurants at times. Waiters sway and at times they break into a dance, with blissful grace which overwhelm their fans. Your appetites follow their own trail and do thank your stars if you’re a guy.
You try to tell your father that the pants that you got as a gift for your 14th birthday fit you no more. You continue to tell your friends that 2012 is a myth and 14th November 2012 is not the last Children’s day, on which if your wife delivers a child you will be ridiculed all the way to Christmas.
Thank you for hating me. Thank you for loving me. All these years, thank you for standing by me. I’ve got to go now as I’ve promised someone that “I’ll be there before the next teardrop falls.” With a population of 7 Billion this is going to be a herculean task. I’ve only started my ‘26th’ and they all hope I’ve got miles to go before I sleep.
The ‘Bar’ is now open and let the party begin.
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Gold is a bubble, Diamonds spell trouble, you continue to get sold and the goblet of wine ads the zip to your soul-petrol. My waistline is 7 above my age-line which is 14 more than the size of my feet; which is in turn equivalent to my birth month; add 2 to it you get 13. 3+1=4 which is inconsequential. In short I completed 25 on the 13th of November 2011.
Salutations to most, greetings to many and thank you all for wishing,greeting, participating, waking up, eating and driving your soul on
this day. Things get complicated from here and I’m not Rahul Gandhi. You start assuring yourself, life, soul, the things you buy, the place you live the air you breathe, the steps you climb and reassure one and all starting with your parents, brothers and sisters, your employers even if fake, the Bachchans you meet and the Rajus you greet. In short, Sting’s song “Every breath you take” gets redefined with every beat. And this time it’s your heart. You’re not able to write the code for the Dream-to-Reality problem when it comes to real estates. You say “after all I wish to buy a house to live” and they say “Living in a dream is easier.”
Lose mental peace by 40%. Diminished hearing power by 20% and you take the same proportion of cynicism when it comes to accepting gifts alongside making a bucket list of your choice. I’m certainly getting nothing, but a copy of Tinkle Comics from my dearest one next year. However I won’t mind it if it’s No. 27 from 1983 when Suppandi was staged in the cradle by Mr. Waeerkar who shares his first name with the second half of my only name. Menus change and so do the restaurants at times. Waiters sway and at times they break into a dance, with blissful grace which overwhelm their fans. Your appetites follow their own trail and do thank your stars if you’re a guy.
You try to tell your father that the pants that you got as a gift for your 14th birthday fit you no more. You continue to tell your friends that 2012 is a myth and 14th November 2012 is not the last Children’s day, on which if your wife delivers a child you will be ridiculed all the way to Christmas.
Thank you for hating me. Thank you for loving me. All these years, thank you for standing by me. I’ve got to go now as I’ve promised someone that “I’ll be there before the next teardrop falls.” With a population of 7 Billion this is going to be a herculean task. I’ve only started my ‘26th’ and they all hope I’ve got miles to go before I sleep.
The ‘Bar’ is now open and let the party begin.
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