Goin' Back in Time

Welcome, welcome. I know that my blog readership has drastically gone down, but I owe this blog more than a post. It’s the last day of my Winter Holidays and I’m going tenth this year.

So I'm guessing I won’t be writing much, (don’t say, ‘Like I ever did.’ See, I’m doing it.) except maybe upload pictures on my other blog.

To update my life, my holidays have passed with hardly any dramatic event.

Waking late, sleeping late, reading, writing fiction, playing the guitar, listening to music, talking, holidaying. I decided to write about all the events that happened last year in nearly correct chronological order. For convenience, I’ve split it into parts.

Happy reading!

PS Atlantas has been updated with the Agra pictures as on 3oth Dec. Check it out!

Part I

In July sometime, I went to Kerala for my cousin’s wedding. Just me and mom. Apart from the fact that we reached right after the wedding finished, the rest of the stay was simply amazing. Not only because I met with all my aunts, uncles and cousins but also some real hilarious company.

My cousins’ cousins, Sentil and Peter Thompson are from Canada. Sentil is 20 years old and is studying Law, and Peter is in seventh Grade and is 12.

Both have the most amazing sense of humor I’ve come across, but I was never tired of laughing. You won’t see Peter without the GameBoy Advance in his hand, although later when I tried, it wasn’t all that bad. The good part being that you had something like 290 lives. So dying was the last thing on your mind.

I once stated my life's desire with a sombre expression fit for Condoleezza Rice, “I’d like to be a CNN correspondent.” That started a common joke that never stopped being funny.
Standing up with a make-believe mic, Sentil and Peter would say with a serious expression, “Sobhagya Jose (pause) Baghdad,” with a jerk of the head. And they would be in splits the next second. I couldn’t help but join in.

And every time, I said my name for any reason, one of them would add, “Baghdad.”, and all of us would laugh till our sides ached.

Another common joke became how one of Peter’s classmates had tried to pass off a French assignment without preparing. He would point at the things around him in class, and say in turn, “Le desk, le chair, le fan, le crackers…” Peter used to find this joke especially funny, and acted no less than a lunatic every time he recited this one.

I still appreciate the good time I had with them back in Kerala and hope to meet them again some time. Although it seems unlikely. Thanks guys, for being yourselves and giving me one of my most memorable stays.

Part II

Early December, my cousin came from Portland, USA with her husband and daughter, Aayi. On the way to meeting her grandparents in Kerala, they stopped over in Delhi to stay with us for a week.

However cliched, having a 3- year old in the house is a bliss and she really is, a bundle of joy. She took to my father particularly, and they together looked out for pigeons everyday.
We decided to go around a few places so that Aayi could see the beauty of her country. We narrowed in on the Bahai temple, Qutub Minar and the Taj Mahal! And after my pleading, we even went to Punjabi by Nature and had a magnificent dinner which included a regal and delicious vanilla ice- cream.

So, we went to Agra with them by an SUV, which took nearly three hours one way. I was going to see the Taj Mahal for the third time, my mom said. Well, this would be the only time I’d remember, definitely.
Despite the scorching heat, the Taj Mahal was as splendid as it always had been. Although the Yamuna, which could be seen from one side of the Taj, was not a pleasant site and in contrast to the pristine beauty of the Taj Mahal.

On the way back, we ate a fulfilling lunch at McDonalds, midway our drive to Delhi.
All in all, a memorable trip.

Part III

December 7^th Friday, was the day before my birthday. An unusually less- hyped affair, my mother claimed happily with a tear in her eye, that I was getting mature.

I prayed hard that I wasn’t.

Aastha, my friend in school, offered to bake me a cake. (Chandrika unexpectedly baked one for me last year. I was crying with joy.) Despite my objections, (not because I was trying to save her the effort, but because she proudly claims to be a good cook. I was scared.) she baked a delicious cake, swimming in the Hershey’s Chocolate Sauce I lent her.

I take this opportunity to heartily thank both Chandrika and Aastha, for bothering to make, an insensitive wart like me, a cake on my birthday. Thank you.

My mom wondered whether I’d threatened them at gun point or something to make me a cake. Who’d make me a birthday cake?!
Not being able to resist getting the chocolate smeared on my face by my darling friends, I patiently offered my face to everyone who wished to do so. ‘It adds to the festive season, anyway.’ I reasoned.

On the same day, while coming back from my guitar class, I proudly announced in the car, “Dad, be glad. I’ll finally stop pestering you. I don’t think I deserve an electric guitar just as yet. I think I’ll wait another year for it.” You won’t blame me, I got a 66 on my Guitar Grade 2 exam. Yeah, I passed. But 66?!

My desire for an Ibanez electric guitar was obvious to all around me, for I harp about it everywhere I go. I almost drooled when my teacher showed me its catalogs.

Contrary to what I expected, dad stayed silent and continued to talk to my sister. Surprised, I prodded him further to realise that he was going to buy it for me, actually planning to buy me one on my birthday! Sigh, wasn’t I (and dad) dissapointed. I remained silent the rest of the car journey.

December 8^th started on a christmas-y note for me. Early in the morning, I went to help with a Carol Singing Competition my chuch was organizing. I stayed there for an hour or two, until my mom got bugged with all the birthday calls for me and summoned me back immediately.

Just so you know, this year I had a ‘no gifts’ campaign to prove a point to a friend of mine. You see, every year, however bad/ rude/ insensitive/ bossy I’ve been, some people would still gift me things on my birthday. That I didn’t deserve, according to the friend. So, I decided to be nice and announce my intentions publicly. Well, perhaps not many gifts this year, but yes, I did get heartfelt birthday wishes and kicks.

And I realized how much I love my true friends. (don’t bother keeping your fingers crossed, I won’t be weepy for long!)

A toast to all my good friends- Namya, Sonia, Pragya, Sakshi, Shreya, Aastha, Nidhi, Arti, Iraj, Saksham, Naman, Vatsalya, Lakshay, Aribhit, Deepika.

I’m also glad to have met a great number of pleasant acquaintances in school, who I hope will turn into really good friends in the future.

I got a beautiful bouquet of violet orchids with white chrysanthemums from my parents. Um, I also got a new pair of sneakers and a haircut. Although I wanted to do something dramatic and shocking with my hair like cut it to 3 inches short, I came out with something as normal as normal could get. And although I’m not the one to go on about haircuts (me, and of all things!) I won’t deny, it did look pretty good for about three hours or so.

Part IV

Christmas was wonderful, but slighly different this year. Though we managed to make the tree and get plum cakes, we missed the annual midnight mass in Church. We did go to church in the morning for the 9.30 am mass, though.

Oh, and I woke up at 9.40 am.

My cousin, who was going back , came to Delhi on 24^th. They’re flight for USA via Munich, would leave at 3 in the morning. So instead of going to church, I went with dad to the airport to drop them off at near 12 o’ clock. I was real sad when they were leaving, it would be a while before I'd see them again. Thus the wee hours of Christmas were spent at the Indira Gandhi International Airport, bidding farewell.

Part IV

New Year was fun but different. There was a function inside my society where some famed singers from the Voice of India were supposed to come. (don’t ask, we don’t watch television) We heard they were good, but still didn’t leave home till 11:30 though the thing started at 9.

Before leaving, we (my family) danced to some good music by Savage Garden with the lights switched off. I even tried to teach my dad to waltz. I never lose hope.

When we braved inertia and went out, we heard people singing from the place of the function. Honestly, the highly acclaimed singers, could, but sing. Fearing the worst, we decided against going in and just walked around in the beautifully weather, cold and slightly misty. At 12 o’ clock, welcomed with some louder (and horrible) singing, dad hugged us all and thus, we ushered in the New Year, 2008.