Laugh!

Sense of humour is so important. So bloody important. I wish my parents had dropped me on my head when I was wee. But alas, that was not to be. And here I am. Older, not wiser, getting frumpier, grumpier and will soon be called the 'Frumpy, tight-assed, friggin' bitch'. Maybe am already called that.

Why are birthdays special? Why does everyone wish 'Happy Birthday'? Is there nothing else to say or wish for on this supposedly special day? And why are they supposed to be 'happy'?

Woken up at 2.00 am. Rohan. Surprise surprise. Very pleasant surprise. Very touched. Suddenly the years melt away.

Woken up at 6.10 am. Gauri. Yet another surprise. Very touched.

And then the stream of messages. The stream of calls. Some expected. Some not so.

And then in a fit of desperation, and wanting the arc lights, the msg goes out to some. Shameless. But who cares? As long as the warmth flows in, honestly who the hell cares?

I worry about -
A dear friend has stopped writing his blog. Entreaties haven't worked. Why? Please start again Irf. Please. I'm the one living in the Age of the Great Depression. What happened to you buddy?

I'm touched by -
A dear friend from the army calling up from a remote area in J & K where the telecommunication lines are so lousy that to make a call you need 10 clearances, just to wish on a birthday.

An ex-colleague calling up - especially when one hasn't 'touched base' in over 4 months.

Un-known guy actually heeding a request on a blog. That's so sweet.

It feels good to know that there are people who care - all around the world. People who (I hope) like this person for who she is. Non-judgmental, unmindful of the aberrations, impervious to mood swings, fine lines or crow's feet, the sags or the bags, they hang on. They love. They cherish. They care. So what if they forget sometimes?

Thank you.

(Am I beginning to sound like a junkie? Disjointed, disconnected, disembodied? Awww, well... c'est moi!)