Me and Roshan, after a brain storming session filled with arguments came to the conclusion that we should also include a greeting card along with a birthday present (a monster gorilla) to his neighbour’s kid- Nikil a.k.a Dangerous Darling, on his birthday. We bought a Birthday card on which I was about to write the regular- ‘ With Love from……’ when Roshan interrupted in a way they interrupted marriages in movies. He said to me- “ Even pharmacists are clueless about your hand writing. Give it to me, I’ll write.” A lady standing beside giggled trying to look at the ceiling. I’m basically dust-proof, rain-proof and insult-proof. So, I just walked away. Anyway, after all that non-sense, we entered the party hall, which actually looked like more non-sense. Nikil ran to us and we wished him and presented him the gift and the card & in return he gave us Birthday caps (cones) and paper trumpets (we call it pee-pee). I blew hard with it and all the kids followed suit, which made me close my ears and made their parents’ BP levels rise. People who knew me well enough, in a weird way could conveniently establish the relation between- Parents’ BP levels and me. That didn’t make me any prouder, but as I said, I was insult-proof.
Anyway, they served us a ‘Welcome Drink’. Holding the drink we found a seat for ourselves. While I could finish a glass of juice in 4 seconds, Roshan takes 4 minutes. He’s like a lazy senior citizen. Meanwhile one known ‘aunty’, who was extra-large in size came by and said to me with a wicked, disgusting smile- “ You have gained weight. You were so good looking.” The happiest person on earth at that point of time, Roshan replied- “ Aunty, I have a six pack. Did I tell you? ”
Aunty smiled and looked at me waiting for a reply. I thought about many replies but said- “ He has a six pack. I have a family-pack.” She laughed but wasn’t amazed. Who cares?
Then, dinner was ready for me and I was ready for dinner. My plate got so jam-packed that I couldn’t even see the plate. I found a seat to hog on to the stuff on my plate. Meanwhile the kids put color papers and some scrap on my head and took snaps. They loved me like hell. I was reminded of the joke- “I have just returned from a children's party. I'm one of the survivors.” Roshan dint find any girl, so he sat quiet. He suddenly went to a two year old kid and started talking- “ chu chu chu… chu chu chu…” and I began to wonder who was two year old. Meanwhile that extra-large aunty came by along with her daughter. She pointed at me and told her daughter- “ Go ask him if that is a basket ball or his tummy.” They both giggled. They themselves were extra large and that tested my ‘insult-proofing.’ It was time to show my ‘man-ness’. I looked out for Roshan for company but he had already found a girl and was talking some crap like how much he liked ice-creams.
Anyway, I walked to that aunty and her daughter. The children just started singing- “ Humpty Dumpty…” I asked aunty curiously- “ Aunty, do you measure your weight in a weighing machine or a Richter scale?” and sang along “Humpty Dumty sat on a wall…” with the kids.