Off late, I’ve transformed into a sporadic blogger. My mind is constantly mulling over subjects, but I hardly find the time to glorify a WordPress template with my “revolutionary” thoughts. This is what happens when you impersonate a corporate slave when playing “Guess Who?” with life. Although, I can’t churn out enlightening pieces of literature, it’s heartening to know that the minimal followers of my blog miss me. I never thought I had the gift to tickle their souls in sheer boredom. 😀
So it’s decided. I am a loved writer; a sporadic one albeit. Period.
Much as I love to utilize time by mulling over my insignificant posts, I never mulled over this one. I don’t even know how this blog will end up. It is true that we all play “Guess Who? “ with life. A few months ago, I was impersonating a sloth. There’s no better feeling than having immobility for a best friend. My father loves to impersonate a man 30 minutes late for his flight. It’s his favourite and does not want to take on a new role. My maid Pramila loves to impersonate the Vodafone 3G Superhero Zoo-Zoo. I have a hunch that Vodafone cracked that one on meeting her. My watch guards unanimously impersonate a man guarding a graveyard with the standard, “Who’d wanna steal anything here?” expression. My sister impersonates a pretty, indigestibly smart sarcastic doll. My bro-in-law impersonates the only man in love with water. My friends; Akshu impersonates Jughead, Anu impersonates a perfect Libran (I know that doesn’t need an elaboration) and Suman impersonates something slower than a sloth. However, there is one person I know who impersonates nobody but herself, and oh so gracefully!
My mother impersonates the beautiful, gullible, adamant and adorable ocd (Obsessive, compulsive disorder) struck person. In short, herself.
She turned 52 on the 1st of March, and chose to play herself for some more time.
She is definitely someone to meet once in life. For starters, she blew people’s head off in her hay days. When my father is bored of impersonating a man 30 minutes late for his flight, he impersonates a lucky man doing the “She’s mine” dance. Mumma was a breathtaking beauty. To my eyes, she still is. I wish I had more of her chromosomes in me. There’s something downright adorable about this woman even when she’s irritating you by aligning everything on the table to a perfect right angle. She can make your head tilt in awe. For all the men who could not get their hands on her, tough luck, this one was a keeper! She’s ageing now. Although still beautiful, it hurts me to see wrinkles on her pretty neck. She is one person who was not meant to grow old.
When I’m done impersonating a corporate slave,
I would love to make feeble attempts to impersonate my mother for the rest of my life.
I know that I can never look as lovely. Nobody can.
At this very minute I can imagine the wide grin on my father’s face on reading this, like he contributed to her looks. Hehehe…
I raise a toast to the most beautiful woman I know. To Mumma!