There are occasions when life puts on dazzling colours. Oranges, reds, blues. One look out the window now and I know just what made Van Gogh paint the sky with stars.
When the morning arrives, the sun will be golden. The birds fluttering their wings in exercise and the birdlings staring entranced at Mamma and Pappa and dreaming of their first flight. It is fascinating how life brings up new promises and new hopes at every juncture. You only need to look for them. Who would have thought, for instance, that my long-lost wood comb would be found in the abyss of an old bag I haven’t used since Noah brought his ark out? New hopes, you see. Now I have renewed vigour to look for other lost things which I refrain from listing.
So, the point being – what makes the day special?
Well, there is a young man under the blue Pune sky who goes about with a song on his lips. He rates me in importance right after good, spicy chicken and scribbles poetry on a dilapidated notebook despite being presented with a beautiful one this time last year. For this young man, the tricks to healing my mood swings are child-play. Intimidated he is not by the severity – psychological, if you please, of some of my tantrums. In short, he is quite the darling and when it is his special day, you know the heavens are up gorging on boondi ke laddoo.
Now that P&P has covered the special day for you young man, lets hear it for the one who owns this place. And, before we sign off, P&P extends warm wishes to you for a splendid year ahead.
Happy Birthday, R.