It so happened that The Canine, Midha in the Middle and Hum decided to provide Morons Inc. with the penultimate joy of life, namely gastronomic. And so Hum and MiM walked to the Times Square of R-land, the Bus. T. (very misleading for ftv enthusiasts) if you may and booked the room of requirement. The news had already been spreading by then, barring a few of the long-time-no-see inhabitants of the Gaon, and the fairer and scarier folks from the Sorority Bastille. Prudence prevailed over languor, phone numbers were fished and calls were made. LL was kind enough to remind me he'd been there and done that, which made the need to find a particular number even more pertinent. The Don finally obliged, and after a nervous minute or two, Hum was happier than thou.
And so, after what seemed to be a good day for football, Hum, MiM, The Canine, Leftiekins, LL, Don, Godmother and the minions assembled in 'The Balcony Room', reminiscent of the numerous Moronic chapos. The first Kodak moment was Don at her bashful best, her eyes twinkling at the sight of a bowl full of bread crumbs. All this time, the Canine had been smiling molar to molar, a la mumbling Mutley. This was, Humne socha, because of the Chocolate incident but it later turned out he had a lot more up his sleeve.
Leftiekins made a feeble attempt to get us to play Musical Chairs but the Scary lot quickly hushed it. Some dull minutes and the arrival of Cherry Blossom and Pullkey later, the moment of truth arrived and those with a keen sense of observation (like MiM) would've noticed the triumphant look on my face and surely, LL quipped on how lucky I should consider myself. Hum was still looking for the quintessential Chocolate. Sure enough, Pre-inca came to the rescue and much to the chagrin of the hungry crowd, Hum distributed the chocolate to all and sunky.
Leftiekins and The Canine conspired to help Hum in certain matters although not realizing the embarrassed look on Humari already contorted countenance, still all in good faith. It did help, I guess, although one of my female confidantes insists it's all just empty speculation of the overenthusiastic male brain. Damn.
Anyway, an ice-cream competition, a cherishable handshake, some 'voyeuristic journalism' and a few friendly jibes at my absence from the larger crowd later, Hum went back, a lot fuller and happier. It was like school once again.
Happy Birthday indeed.