Sitting in this lovey Radisson hotel in Manchester I’m taking care of Master Bhullar while his mum is away studing for her masters. I’m thinking I could not have a have a better holiday, no amount of cycling or driving or anything can give you as much pleasure as your crying and moody baby.
We drove here to Manchester on Sunday and I dont think I will ever get rid of my pollen allergies. We stopped at Watford Gap as recommended by FIL(Father in law). I got out to get something to eat, I don’t know why but whenever I stop for break, I am under a spell to buy something to eat or drink. I just cant seem to control myself. Like a well-tuned robot I went into get me some non-natrual colour drink and some E-numbered riddled food. I was out for just 60 sec and in those 60 seconds all hell broke loose: my nose and eyes were on fire.
I still tried to drive the rest of the way and as usual I was in the middle lane (my lane) and suddenly a sign popped up on the big new sign board. It was like they had updated the sign just for me. It said in bold capital letters DON’T HOG THE MIDDLE LANE. I dont know why I love the middle lane but it’s the best. I don’t drive that fast so I dont have to be in the top lane and I don’t like to change the lanes to overtake the trucks so often in the outer lane. So I just use the middle lane to cruise without changing the gears or putting on the breaks. I think it’s very eco-friendly. All you need is people driving at the right speed and at equal distance from each other. I guess all don’t live in Bhullarsworld.
Manchester city is much nicer thsa I was led to believe it to be. Maybe my lovely wife, a Liverpool supporter, didn’t want me to think of it as being better than the lovely and holy centre of the world Liverpool. I was under the impression it was a run down city full of gangs and stuff from the shady novels. It’s nice and it’s being modernized, with the odd old bulding right in the middle of the modern structures. TheTrafford Centre, I guess you can’t hide things too much, has all the nice and big shops and even bigger brand names and a very clean, big parking lot. The only thing which made you feel you are in Manchester (The NORTH) is the handpainted portraits of people on the walls near the celling. In india I would understand they can be used to ward off evil spirits, but here I could not begin to imagine the purpose. Maybe they’re an advert for the new living dead zombie movie. All along the length of the shopping mall there are golden yellow lines that highlight the pottraits. Maybe in The North you don’t do things for a reason. Maybe they are done in the name of art, let the secret be a secret.
Taking care of master Bhullar. My hats off to my lovely wife and great mother to Udham. He is a lovely boy that does not want much, but when he wants it he wants it. He wakes up with this big smile and big eyes, does his stretch and holds his arms out: it’s pick me up time daddy - the day has started and you need to entertain me now. Then starts a round around the hotel room, good morning beds, good morning sofa, good morning mirror, good morning window and so on. He has a little baby chat with all these things. When looking back at me ’I am bored daddy, is there something else on the agenda today?’. I reply: ’well son it’s kick daddy in the tummy time’ and then it’s some more talking to the furniture time. Soon it’s milk time, well he looks at you and I know he’s thinking ’well dad you don’t have the natural equipment that mummy has, how are you going to manage this task?’. Well son someone invented a thing called the bottle and it does the job. The look in his eyes says ’if i have to, hunger can bend the strongest of wills’. With a big sigh coming out of his mouth, he takes the bottle. With his eyes he looks deep into your soul and says I don’t like this arrangement but since I have no choice I will make do for now. But wait until I’m a teenager - revenge is a dish best served cold daddy. He is a lovely boy. His one smile can make your day and one look in the eyes can say a thousand words (most of them go like this: daddy you are great, daddy you are smart, daddy you are handsome, daddy you are the greatest, daddy, daddy, daddy).
This is my version of events. I tell the truth, nothing but, BUT the truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment