STORY OF BUTTONS, CORNERS, AND PARENTS

My morning seemed to start on an interesting note because my parents had clearly marked me as their target for the day. Targeted that too by the people who gave me this very life? I can totally feel your thoughts, but that is the truth of my over-dramatic life. I think it was last night itself they had conspired to make me squirm and boy were they successful. Instead of the soothing notes of my alarm, it was my dad’s booming voice shaking and stirring out of my dream world and none too politely. He wasn’t too happy to see that I wouldn’t so much so acknowledge his efforts to buy me a gift much less lift my fingers to mark my approval on the choice of model. How inconsiderate of him, no?! Well, I had to sit through finalising the best deal and voila I hit a jackpot! The website offering a so-called big discount wasn’t an authorized reseller with the brand; I think I saved my dad a lot of headache. I could see his love for me grow by leaps and bound but later I was informed with a poker face that my cousin had utilized the same deal and all was hunky dory in her world. Oh well, I performed my victory dance too soon because I did have to squirm later for losing out on a good offer.

My mom has this uncanny ability to be right about most of the things. She opened today’s edition of Mint Lounge to read out loud the article by Shoba Narayan; loudly because she wanted me to know that there I had missed another opportunity of voicing my thoughts. Shoba Narayan too had a story to tell about her experience aboard the Vistara flight. She was served manchurian idli and after she spat out the food, the flight attendant said, “You see, madam, north Indians don’t want to go for southie dishes,” the flight attendant said. “If we mix some Chinese flavour with these idlis, then it will be palatable for north Indians as well.” Well, how in the world did the attendant come up with such an explanation?!  Empty headed and racist, I say!

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Anyway, so the point my mom was trying to make at that moment was that I too should have written about my disastrous round trip with Vistara. In order to pacify her, here is my story. In August, I flew to Bombay to attend the Lakme Fashion Week and also to see a different side of the city that I had missed during last two visits. I am lactose intolerant –  a fact that most of you know by now – and I communicated the same to Vistara not just once or twice but about 10 times. They assured me that a word to the flight crew, all would be taken care of. They were as clueless as they could come and offered me bananas and apples from the business class. Beat it! Kindly honor them with a slow clap! Hungry and annoyed I refused to let it affect my vacation. So, before boarding my flight back to Delhi, I made them assure and reassure me that my meal would be taken care of and they didn’t disappoint me. Meal was there, yes, but by the looks of it I would have preferred no meal at all. In order to compensate for the previous disaster they served gobhi, rice peppered with 4-5 pieces of chhole that were half-boiled, and corn spinach along with a laddoo, which made up for my dessert. In terms of quantity it looked nothing short of leftovers that they picked from someone’s tiffin as a last resort. The taste was beyond my expectations and I couldn’t eat more than a bite or two. You see I simply had to take it back home, after all you don’t get experience such a culinary delight on a daily basis. The cherry on my cake was the stone cold bun with butter. So, I chose to put it back in the doodled box just the way it came. Vistara made my flight quite a memorable one. Now, in order to cherish this flight with them I have decided to never travel by Vistara again. One such experience is bound to last me for a lifetime. There you go, Mom! I finally narrated my experience, which isn’t as exhilarating as Ms Narayan’s but an exciting one all the same; not for me but Vistara.

The moral of the story is that no one can add more spark to your day like your parents because they know all the buttons to push and corners to dust even though I would like to believe otherwise. They will love you and hate you at the same time. Eventually, I am going to get my gift by tomorrow because dad won’t have it any other way even if it means waking me up at the crack of dawn and well mom did have her way by making me write this post.

I hope I haven’t missed out on something else and if I have by any chance then count on my mom to bring you another amusing story of my life.

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