The good son, and the bad one
15th July (Saturday) was dads birthday. Wished him as soon as I woke up (a first I think). Asked him what the plans were and on getting a vague reply offered to take him to buy some music (yet another novelty). As the plan fructified we decided to head towards the Planet M at Phoenix (tough competition from Rhythm house) and make more of the outing. Departure was estimated at 10:30 IST. Agenda had music on the cards but also largely open. Left on time.
I think Planet M’s generous 20% off on birthdays (extending from1 week before to a week after; only once a year for members) clinched it for them. Parked under the ramp and rushed to the store (did I mention the curious and convenient fact that had been meaning to visit a record shop for a while). The PM at Phoenix seems to specialsie in Greatest hits, something that always strikes me as I stand in front of the POP / Rock racks. I am not complaining. Picked up 20 and put down 15. Finally settled for Alanis, Springsteen, Chris Rea, Nelly Furtado & Rod Stewart (The reviews will come if they deserve to, and NO I don’t think they ought to have been done by Dumas). This large booty I picked with the comfort stemming from the knowledge that we were going to get 20% off. Rushed away from the stacks as I visualized myself trying to convince the folks from ICICI that my reward for abstaining from piracy should result in music bills being written off. Dad meanwhile had his list out and was having quite a ball. He seemed to have his mind set on outdoing me and on last count outscored me 2:1. Mostly old Hindi stuff. Someday I might get there (beyond Kishore). I paid J and methinks dads purchase was subsidized by the discount in any case.
Our appetite for music, satisfied for the time being, we headed to the store to pick up some odd apparel. Dad picked up some T’s and I towels (had promised mom). Stuck to the staid sky blue and beige. Also wanted to pick up some shorts (the squash bug) so headed for Royal sporting. Picked out a couple but their POS machine wasn’t working so perhaps the people at ICICI were to be denied their entertainment by seeing that on my bill. Dad meanwhile was attracted to the Color Plus store and promptly proceeded to purchase a trouser. This needed half an hour to be altered.
So exhausted as we were, a glass of beer seemed to suggest itself. Sports bar here we come. Our arrival coincided with their Keg running out and an over eager manager profusely apologizing (honestly for what??) and giving us free papad as compensation (he should meet our delivery team and train them) while we waited for the fresh one to come online. Sitting across the table prompts conversation between father and son. So after I had given him the lowdown on the modus operandi of the Sports Bar, he steeled himself to ask me when I proposed to join the bandwagon of suffering husbands. It was the mans birthday and I guess he deserved the privilege. After all once a year I guess is fair. My carefully weighed response harbored about the female species lack of interest (silly girls!!). Clearly folly on my part cause I guess I made it kinda mandatory for him to volunteer his services (“ you don’t want me to do something do you?”; “you got it covered right, I mean you addressing it I hope”: his words verbatim). Have never seen anyone so relieved when I refused the aid. Did the sagely bit by saying his bit about timing it. That done (not too soon for my liking, but this is the good son we are talking about) we spoke of LCD screens, etched glass and other trivia.
We realized we had spent quite a few hours together. Called mom and took a rain-check for lunch. Picked up the trousers and gorged on a sub each. Headed home. Got back by half past 3.
Once under the roof showed mom the towels and the fortune I blew up on shiny plastic discs. Received remonstrations on both counts. Guess I am tuned in to expecting mom to react aversely if she feels that dad and I have had a good time together. I say tuned cause this is all I seemed to sense and I could well have been wrong. With this colored perception in the backdrop I received her comments as accusations. I proceeded to react as only I can and said stuff that I now regret.
Guess had naturally run out of juice to sustain the good behavior and the penchant for snide comments had raised its ugly head yet again. The funny thing about this is that when I wake up on any given morning I am quite certain that I have no intention of any such deeds. I am well aware of the existence of the possibility however, and have been able to tame the beast quite a bit. Yet have not been able to completely stamp out and unfortunately my victims will end up being those in the 1st circle around me. If its not mom (she takes me on head on) its dad (he has the good sense to retreat immly). While I don’t want to see this reflection will I be able to rid myself of it? Am not inclined to believe it will ever be comprehensively done. So should I chastise myself for an exhibition? Is it not natural? Am not sure, but will go easy on the punishment. The 1st circle knows me and understands that there is no malicious intent. Dwelling on it is only likely to aggravate it (really?).
I think Planet M’s generous 20% off on birthdays (extending from1 week before to a week after; only once a year for members) clinched it for them. Parked under the ramp and rushed to the store (did I mention the curious and convenient fact that had been meaning to visit a record shop for a while). The PM at Phoenix seems to specialsie in Greatest hits, something that always strikes me as I stand in front of the POP / Rock racks. I am not complaining. Picked up 20 and put down 15. Finally settled for Alanis, Springsteen, Chris Rea, Nelly Furtado & Rod Stewart (The reviews will come if they deserve to, and NO I don’t think they ought to have been done by Dumas). This large booty I picked with the comfort stemming from the knowledge that we were going to get 20% off. Rushed away from the stacks as I visualized myself trying to convince the folks from ICICI that my reward for abstaining from piracy should result in music bills being written off. Dad meanwhile had his list out and was having quite a ball. He seemed to have his mind set on outdoing me and on last count outscored me 2:1. Mostly old Hindi stuff. Someday I might get there (beyond Kishore). I paid J and methinks dads purchase was subsidized by the discount in any case.
Our appetite for music, satisfied for the time being, we headed to the store to pick up some odd apparel. Dad picked up some T’s and I towels (had promised mom). Stuck to the staid sky blue and beige. Also wanted to pick up some shorts (the squash bug) so headed for Royal sporting. Picked out a couple but their POS machine wasn’t working so perhaps the people at ICICI were to be denied their entertainment by seeing that on my bill. Dad meanwhile was attracted to the Color Plus store and promptly proceeded to purchase a trouser. This needed half an hour to be altered.
So exhausted as we were, a glass of beer seemed to suggest itself. Sports bar here we come. Our arrival coincided with their Keg running out and an over eager manager profusely apologizing (honestly for what??) and giving us free papad as compensation (he should meet our delivery team and train them) while we waited for the fresh one to come online. Sitting across the table prompts conversation between father and son. So after I had given him the lowdown on the modus operandi of the Sports Bar, he steeled himself to ask me when I proposed to join the bandwagon of suffering husbands. It was the mans birthday and I guess he deserved the privilege. After all once a year I guess is fair. My carefully weighed response harbored about the female species lack of interest (silly girls!!). Clearly folly on my part cause I guess I made it kinda mandatory for him to volunteer his services (“ you don’t want me to do something do you?”; “you got it covered right, I mean you addressing it I hope”: his words verbatim). Have never seen anyone so relieved when I refused the aid. Did the sagely bit by saying his bit about timing it. That done (not too soon for my liking, but this is the good son we are talking about) we spoke of LCD screens, etched glass and other trivia.
We realized we had spent quite a few hours together. Called mom and took a rain-check for lunch. Picked up the trousers and gorged on a sub each. Headed home. Got back by half past 3.
Once under the roof showed mom the towels and the fortune I blew up on shiny plastic discs. Received remonstrations on both counts. Guess I am tuned in to expecting mom to react aversely if she feels that dad and I have had a good time together. I say tuned cause this is all I seemed to sense and I could well have been wrong. With this colored perception in the backdrop I received her comments as accusations. I proceeded to react as only I can and said stuff that I now regret.
Guess had naturally run out of juice to sustain the good behavior and the penchant for snide comments had raised its ugly head yet again. The funny thing about this is that when I wake up on any given morning I am quite certain that I have no intention of any such deeds. I am well aware of the existence of the possibility however, and have been able to tame the beast quite a bit. Yet have not been able to completely stamp out and unfortunately my victims will end up being those in the 1st circle around me. If its not mom (she takes me on head on) its dad (he has the good sense to retreat immly). While I don’t want to see this reflection will I be able to rid myself of it? Am not inclined to believe it will ever be comprehensively done. So should I chastise myself for an exhibition? Is it not natural? Am not sure, but will go easy on the punishment. The 1st circle knows me and understands that there is no malicious intent. Dwelling on it is only likely to aggravate it (really?).
penned by Sanjay at 2:16 AM
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