She says She’s 68... but She don’t know she’s Beautiful

I have known her for most part of my life, well even more and before, after all she did carry me for nine months in her womb, and from that moment, and as long I live, I had an instant connection with her (of course I was connected to her by an umbilical cord), the moment I saw her she imprinted on my heart (or did I do that to her?).

A simple (at times sample) woman, who spent most of her time, most of her life, caring for her family, caring for her in-laws, but now for quite a while it’s been just the two of us, as our tribe dwindled due to mortality of time (and the nestlings who moved on from the nest).

A woman of simple taste and slight awkwardness, but great hidden strength and determination, and yes a whole lot of patience (after all she needs it when she has a confused child like me). I may chide about going for walks, doing her tests and check ups, but I know she can and she does take her self. And when I scold her for her indulgences and giving into her little chocolate temptations, and how it will impact her diabetes, she just quips that she’s not diabetic and her diabetes are under control and she’s eating a little after food is allowed.

She would rather have me sleep than waking at odd hours, would rather have me rest than exerting myself going for a run or hitting the gym. She can never understand how I run so much for so long and don’t stop without getting tired. She never truly gets how I do the things I do (sometimes even I don’t get it myself).

My running friends, who know her, simply adore her, and take care of her whenever she joins us for outstation runs or trips. So she may not run, but she they admire her sportsmanship and stamina when we went sightseeing in Ladakh, and they in turn took care of her. 

She hates me posting her pics on Facebook or Instagram or any social media site, rationalising as to why should the world know what she’s doing and why let bad eyesight fall. She doesn’t think she’s beautiful and doesn’t like to be fussed upon. She feels she ain’t worth it. 

But no matter what she says she’s mean the world to me. For me she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, no one comes even close. She may say she’s 68 (though she’s not too sure about it) but she don’t know that she’s beautiful.

The Obnoxious Morons

You find them everywhere, at every nook and corner. You turn and you will find them there, totally oblivious to the world, thinking they are above the ordinary. You name it and you’ll find there.

In the office these are the loud mouths who insist on taking calls at their desk, on their speaker phones, in their put-on accents, at times taking their personal calls in the office premises, making us privy to their bitchiness about their mother-in-law and servants, making us an unwilling eavesdropper to their conversation. These are the one who insist on talking, scolding and discussing loudly, much to the annoyance of the people who work near them. They are the ones who think it’s beneath them to stand in line when warming food and and keep the oven door open. 

These are the higher ups who have lost all sense of empathy and feel that everyone beneath them are there to slave for them and client visits are their birth rights, their paid vacation. They talk loudly and greet each other and keep their cabin door open (once again making have to go through all their stupid talks) but will shut it immediately when it comes to the good bit. These are the ones who act totally daft and ask the silliest questions and dress in a way they feel that they are the trend setters and pass snidey comments. But in their defence the air up there is thin and their brains don’t get sufficient oxygen.

While travelling you find them busily chatting on their phone, totally ignoring the orderly queue that is formed, often going beyond the yellow line even though the poor announcers keeps telling them otherwise. They are the ones who block the doors even though there’s just two more station to go for the last stop, and just refuse to budge. They are the one who will wriggle and push and make others uncomfortable so that they can play their games or watch their shows.

On television these are the realty show judges who know nothing about judging but just pander away for the rating really silly catch phrases. Hindi shows who assume that everyone has an IQ of zero.

On the roads these are drivers and riders whole love their horns and keep using them at every opportunity though it’s not called for, who think the road is their property (sometimes you wished they paid for the repairs of it as well). They are the ones who believe that traffic rules are meant to be broken, they’ll jump signals, ride triple seat, helmetless most of the time, on the wrong side of the road. They drive their big cars, but will open their doors to throw trash and spit their paan and tumbacoo.

Even in running you find them. They walk and block and just refuse to budge even if you you ask them to give way. These are the ones who will take selfies in the middle of the route. Sometimes I wonder if with all that pouting would they end up with a duck face.

These are the obnoxious morons that you can’t escape no matter how hard you may try. Sometimes you wonder where were they when God was distributing brains. But then you know you can’t help it because it’s a manufacturing defect.