So, Chinese (and few others)just celebrated their version of new year, year of the monkey.
According to this calender we all are split into a group of 12 animals, based on our date of birth. Let's find out what animal you belong to,
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With emerging sprouts of hopes and energising dreams, we listened to our itchy feet and followed the greener grass. And it has been a year already!!
It was my second big decision in past 12 odd years, yet a difficult one. We spent over three months planning, thinking and writing down pros and cons, Then one day till "aye" took over "nae" and the date was set.
So, we moved, or had a moving performance… And here's the moving story.
Years of planning, saving, organizing, thinking, planning again and thinking again, finally paid off and we finally managed to acquire a permanent address. We take things for granted in this part of the world. Even for the smallest of things we don’t pay attention until they are no longer with us. Our microwave croaked a week ago. I was informed over the phone by the missus in a grumfused-that is grumpy but confused, tone whilst I was walking home. “Did you try switching on and off” IT technician part of my brain suddenly kicked in. "you mean unplugging and plugging back in?" the missus corrected me. "You know what I mean" I responded with the universal verbal Tippex after quietly thanking myself for not using words like "shutdown" and "reboot". The missus followed my instruction with a few humphs as I wait on the other end. "it didn’t work" She gave up. "Not to worry, I will take a look when I arrive" I comforted her and increased my speed. I went straight to the kitchen, probably pretending to be an expert on microwaves. Once again, I subconsciously performed the “unplug-wait-plug” steps. I immediately felt a bunch of stupidity hovering over my head. I looked at my missus who was watching my every step with " my husband is an expert" eyes. In an attempt to unsee, I lifted the microwave up to the dining room and plugged it there. Then I replaced the fuse as a final attempt as the missus watched patiently. No Joy. I threw an annoying and frustrating look at the ancient-looking white box and wondered whether or not he had witnessed the first moon landing. I wished I could ask this, but the box was motionless, its blinking monochrome eyes were long gone and the attention-seeking beeps were silenced by the unknown. I gave a long sigh of farewell. A certificate was signed and funeral plans were arranged. ************************************************************************************************************** The next step was to inform the estate agent, We recently had our washing machine replaced and we weren't too sure whether or not the landlord agrees to replace the microwave too. “Leave to me” the estate agent responded in a heavy Indian accent. Phew, A sigh of relief escaped after learning that we weren’t out of our pocket. It would be very difficult otherwise especially in January when we don't get paid for the over-six-weeks period and the budget is normally stretched to the limit. We didn’t miss our white box that day as both of us left home in early hours. And in the evening, we made some non-microwave meal and the poor white box never made it to the dinnertime conversation. The poor thing remained still in the kitchen as if it was waiting for a miracle cure. Helpless, mute!! The next morning, we used the oven hob to boil milk and make porridge. “It tastes better when you cook things properly” The missus claimed, No true respect for the deceased box, but I agreed. The porridge was delicious, however, It could be our inbuilt mechanism to compensate for the loss. A self sympathy. There was nothing we could do, apart from waiting for the potential delivery courtesy to the landlord. After waiting for three days, we decided to chase up. “I thought I told you to buy one and we will compensate you” The agent barked, We couldn’t conclude whether the estate agent was lying or the ghost of our old microwave trying to stop us from replacing him. Either way, there was no point arguing with the agent. So I ordered a replacement. And we started to truly miss the box. On day four, we pretended that we tried to avoid microwave heating, but the milk and leftovers claimed otherwise. Day five: the missus heated milk in a pan, on the hob, on the kitchen floor..... I must admit, the pan looked delicious with burnt milk and the aroma took no time filling the whole house. Was it posthumous revenge from our beloved white box? “You disrespected me, now let me fill your house with my revenge, you will then never forget me (evil laugh)" Maybe, the box was indeed trying to communicate with us, warning l us for disrespecting him. Every time we opened our main door, we were welcomed by the aroma. No matter what we do- from letting the windows open and freezing to our (my, to be precise as the missus doesn’t have any- in a literal way) balls off, emptying cans of Febreze, singing, dancing, exorcism (exaggeration) - nothing worked for the stubborn bastard. But the more we feel the smell, the more we missed our box, He would never let this happen to us if he was alive. With an exception of rare overflowing, he was a loyal companion to us. RIP big fella!! ************************************************************************* Hey gorgeous… you look uh-mazing!! I caressed as I de-boxed the newest member of our kitchen family. I had my birthday yesterday. The best thing about birthdays-when you're older, is to think that the recent one is the best birthday bash ever. Clearly because you don't remember the last ones.
And good old alcohol is there to take all the blames - with a few credits. I am not an exception and I proudly announce that the recent one is the best one. The runner ups would be the one I celebrated in Paris. Wine for breakfast and empty stomach on eiffell tower might not sound great but it honestly was. especially after a big meal and few more vinos.Hope I remember everything. Next thing about birthdays is wishes. I have approximately 400 connection on Facebook. Connection because I don't know them all. Some of course, are close friends, a few family members and some friends of friends of friends. I think there's an undeclared competition somewhere - to see how many wishes one gets. its like counting the number of likes or comments on your silly status or holiday brag s. I received approximately 55 wishes on Facebook, and the same amount via text messages and phone calls. I remember telling a friend once, I will delete those who don't wish me a happy birthday who later convinced me not to. thinking back - I do have a valid point. with an exception of inactive connections, why bother staying in the connection or circle if you can't spend a mere 15 selfless seconds. Anyway, enough of my rants. I do actually have probably the best birthday wishes painted on my virtual wall. In no particular order, these are my personal favorites. "You are the most beautiful creation of god, most precious gift I ever have. Heard many tales about angels never thought I actually will be living with one. I thank god and I thank my dear mother in law for this blissful day. Couldn't thank anymore. My only wish is to celebrate many more birthdays together" "Even though I don't have the most beautiful words to wish u.. I bet I have the most care and love for u"" Everytime I fell,you pushed me up...you never left me miss a step...shed any tear feel my fear...I believe I wouldn't be the same without you..." "May you find your happiness in everything you do. Wishing you the most blessed and happiest birthday ever. many many happy returns of the day!!! And trust me you are not 30+, you are still 18 with some years experience" Needless to say, these are all from family members. And no, I won't start deleting ... just yet.(typed from my note 2 and published without proofreading. errors will be hunted down and taken care of. ) Update: This is the second attempt. the first one vanished in the cloud during the upload process |
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