Jumpin' Mango

Anyone remember that cool tetrapack of mango juice we used to get called Jumpin'
I used to be so fascinated by that, and also by Great Shakes, which was a sort of a Soy drink or something. One year in school our lunch break was long enough so we used to cycle down to this place near by and drink this stuff. Used to cost Rs.5 I think. My mum would she give me a few bucks when my aunt (who ruled the kitchen with an iron hand) created something monstrous for the lunch box.

So it was a hippety hoppy weekend. Friday night I dragged ass to South Bombay to meet up with friends. We had a gala time. I stuck to Bloody Marys, arguing against the calories in beer. The chairs were a tad too high for me. But they had a gigantic-oh TV screen where they played song videos. Rather strange to look at Michael Jackson for sure. Oh yeah. The DJ dude, when not harassed by my husband to play something totally dorky (such as CCR), was going nuts with 70s and 80s pop and rock. Initially I was like, oh my god, where are we. But then we are all in our thirties right, so after a while since we could like hum along (hum along? knew the entire sets of songs, I have to say), it was OK. Of course, there was this one time he played that hilarious song from that hilarious movie with that hilarious dude from Saturday Night Live (Mango). Which was kind of cool. We also did tequila shots though that felt like water (ha!) for the most part for some reason. Maybe it was because the pepper from the B.M. had lined up my stomach nicely. A bit on the wild side for oldies like us, friday night was. I wore a Tshirt that said 'Its Not PMS, Its You' but no one believed it per-se, I got wished 'Have a Happy Period' many times though (ArgH! Hate those guys for that line).

On Saturday on the other hand, I had to be on real good behaviour. We met up with some colleagues of my husband in their real swank Bandra place. I was zapped out of shape with how nice their home was, and how enthu the lady was to have cooked for us all. The people were all older and I really had to behave myself. Once when the monster ran out from the bedroom insisting that Bluffmaster (which the other kids were watching) was too scary, one of the ladies were shocked that I had a child. Oh well. I wore a shiny lucknowi kurta mum bought for me. I did sip a bit of beer but mostly I was real quiet and smiling and listening attentively to the dispensed gyaan and oohing and aahing about the house.

On Sunday I went to visit an old uncle in the hospital. He was OK but my aunt looked totally worn out from the experience. I tried very hard to drag out old stories about my dad (aunt is his sister) from her but my cousin kept butting in and asking me about this and that in this vague way that he has (he uses a lot of pronouns so its always a big gamble to figure out who and what he is talking about). Kind of hard it was. But we promised to go back sometime next weekend when I can hopefully get some stories out of her. He was real mischievous growing up, my dad, and while it is clear that in terms of parenting my grandparents sucked big time, it is kind of interesting to hear and correlate with my and my monster's behaviour.

In between all this stuff I had to work. A meeting where a guy I suspect of wearing a wig droned on and on. I was like dude where is the tea already. Another where we had to sit down and really finish stuff. And yet another where I was so damn dehydrated from the nights excesses that I had to really squint my eyes and drink lots of Tang to focus. At any rate, work got done, which is good I suppose.

And here we are on Monday. In a strange twist, the husband has covered me with gifts (yes! Its that unmentionable thing today). I got a Tommy watch (hinting that my days of wearing the man-watch are behind me :-() and an IPOD shuffle (okay I know you youngsters will say that there are better products than that nowadays, but we are old and we think this is pretty cool plus I am not the kind to look a gift horse in the mouth, so lay off eh?) Mum made me Basundi, which used to be my favourite thing in the world before I fell prey to fears of Cholesterol and weight gain and what not. She also bought me tons of clothes which is typical of everytime she visits, in addition to a handbag (hints again that the ratty cloth bag I carry around is no good). So much for my existentialism and what not. The monster made me one of its cute cards which always say I am a super star and that it loves me. Plus the little runt told everyone in its creche that its wearing new clothes and flowers in its hair because of amma's birthday. Most embarrassing this child is I tell you... While having a quiet little day did not work out, I am feeling quite happy, people do love me you know, they remembered and messaged and emailed and called, this despite the fact that I am horrendous-iferous in such things. Hope I get better with age...