Independence day celebration in office. Everyone asked to wear the tricolours in their apparel. And the office is full of excited, squealing kids running around all over the place.
Oh, alright, fresh-out-of-college, barely out of their teens newbies who’re all gung-ho about the fact that office-goers have ‘fun’ too. *Grumble grumble* While I normally cherish the joys of childhood (my own and other people’s), conversations like the ones I’m having this morning make me think being 22 should be out-lawed!!!!
Young dude in orange kurta (YDOK): Morning!
Me: Hi….is that part of the traditional day thing today?
YDOK: Yes. Orange instead of saffron. And see I’m carrying a Sprite bottle for the green.
Me: …… (I mean, what do I say? No one wants to appear like sourpuss-wet blanket-auntie)
SNC: You’re like the funky flag, man!
Later in the washroom, I bump into yet another one of the young un’s preening in front of the mirror in her chilli-green tee and skirt.
Child: How do I look?
Me: Naice. You look good. I forgot about wearing the colours today. Turned up in a dress today of all days!
Child: Doesn’t matter. You can represent the cruel British and the rest of us, the oppressed Indians.
Me: *Exiting in a hurry*
SNC: Let’s start the ‘Idea go back’ movement!
And I thought today was going to be a good day…