Gone 'til November

Well, that time of the year is approaching. And how.
Since my birthday falls in this month, would always get new Christmas clothes as well around the same time. Actually, come to think of it, I only got birthday clothes, maybe an extra shirt or T-shirt which mummy never allowed me to wear until Christmas. Smart!
Remember this one birthday, came back from school. Rummaged through the usual places – mummy’s ‘steel’ almirah, papa’s ‘Godrej’ almirah (never did figure out why the differentiation when both were Godrej and both were made of steel) And our (Bruce and mine) cupboard. Did not find anything. Went up to mummy in the kitchen. Asked her as politely and sweetly as I could. She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t wait for papa to come back and see if he was carrying a ‘plastic cover’
Till I went to hang or take off something from the clothesline. Saw this rather pale looking shirt, carelessly hanging there. Took if off, gave it a thorough look-through. Wasn’t too impressed. Till I flicked open the collar to check out the label. And there it was, white letterings embedded in a small patch of green that proudly declared – UNITED COLORS OF BENETTON.
Being the shallow human being that I was and still am, I squealed with joy. Suddenly, miraculously I loved the garment. It was, as I told mummy, UCB.
I had always seen the shop off, Park Street, whenever I passed by. Next to it was Burlingtons. There was a table tennis table in the shop. Cool looking people (or so I thought at that time) were playing the game. ‘Inside the shop, mummy. Inside the shop’I used to jump about saying. It had to be a cool shop.

Anyways, November is here. December will soon follow suit. Donno why things have to change when you become older. Earlier we would do anything to get into the coolest of places to usher in the New Year. Someplace Else, CCFC, Ricky Diwan’s party and what not. And more often than not, we never managed to be there and do that, so would settle for what they now call, ‘House Party’ Andalib’s aunts flat. Lots of us friends. Some booze. Food. And if someone was lucky enough to have a girlfriend, she and maybe, just maybe, some of her friends. And today when procuring or buying an entry pass is no big deal, when I speak with most of them, they all have the same thing to say, “kuch nahin yaar, ek house party ka program hai”
Shit! life has changed!.