So another year, one more birthday gone by. There's something special about this day isn't it? As kids, we look forward to this day, when we are dressed in pattu pavadai in the morning, the customary visit to the temple, payasam lunch, namaskaarams to elders and gifts in cash or kind. Then in the evening, the pavadai is replaced with a lacy frilly frock, in pink and white, friends come to a decorated house to wish you and celebrate your day with gifts. Cake is cut and served, and you feel special. As we grow up, the customary visits to temple become a rarity, as you need to be in college, or school or work. Instead of frilly dresses, we wear something more sober, there are no parties held at home, friends want you to treat them somewhere else. Then as years go by, when you have a husband and a kid, your own birthday excitement takes a back seat, you are busy planning your kid's birthday, or a surprise for your husband. Nobody plans it for you. Friends write on FB, the calls are less, messages are few, but you check your 'wall', it would be clogged with posts and wishes. I still prefer a phone call, nothing is more exciting than hearing your friend's voice, full of joy while he/ she is wishing you.sigh! The temple visits never happen, but you never forget to visit the temple for your lil one. The only outing is a trip to a restaurant for a dinner. But, the one thing that never changes is the 'payasam' made by Mum. No matter where her child is, the payasam is definitely made, given to everyone after the 'naivedyam'. Yes, birthdays are special, once in a year, you are the cynosure of your loved ones eyes, and no gift is as priceless as the feeling of being loved and wanted by the people you love. Thank you Ma!
A friend walked in, to have coffee, her house also is empty by 8 and so is mine. So sometimes, we catch up for our lil tete-a-tete over coffee. Talking about coffee, I have turned the American way, I now prefer black coffee to white. Well, the first cuppa is with milk. Her Mum is an amazing baker, she had sent homemade peanut butter cookies. So, my neighbour was generous enough to get some for me. I made the famous South Indian filter coffee, and we plonked ourselves on the couch. She seemed a lil disturbed, so after a lot of prodding, she finally asked me if I thought she was obsessive about being perfect. So I instantly said Yes! And she was shocked, she said how could I have known that about her, as I have known her only for few months. So I laughingly pointed out at certain incidents and told her that I have a penchant for observing people and their mannerisms, and I can't help it. We laughed, then she asked, but what's wrong in doing things perfectly? I told her nothing, ...
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