Friday, February 12, 2010

Bombay and Birthdays

I don’t really need a reason to miss Bombay (as will be apparent to anyone who reads this space and/or hears me talk for extended periods of time) But sometimes I just happen to find myself in a situation, that absolutely makes me wish I could dissaparate (Harry Potter style), to the traffic jammed roads, super-crowded local trains, neighbourhood bhel and sandwich chappie and of course the shiny shopping malls.

I didn’t realise how much I relied on those gross symbols of consumerism and brand names till I didn’t have access to them anymore. Seriously. All I wanted to buy yesterday was a nice birthday gift for a friend’s one year old daughter. And did I find anything? No. Ok, so maybe I am a little neurotic when it comes to giving birthday gifts – it has to be perfect and special in at least one small way for the person. I can spend hours deciding what to buy, even though I hate shopping as a rule. So imagine my frustration, when I couldn’t find one remotely decent gift for a baby in this whole town (and just when I had started appreciating it a little).

And then I missed Bombay like crazy. I mean, if I was there, I would have had a tough time deciding what to give the baby from a wide range of ‘oh this is so cute’ stuff. And here, I had the option of ugly tee shirt vs ugly dress vs ugly toy. Shudder.

So finally I had to resort to the artsy-craftsy soul in me and make something at home – a challenge by itself given the limited resources available (this makes me miss Hobby Ideas and my favourite stationery shops in Bombay. Sniff).

Anyhoo, cutting a long story short, I gave the kiddo (well, actually her parents) a gorgeous photo album made of hand made paper (which I had picked up on a whim some months back somewhere) and painted a birthday greeting inside. Maybe someday, when the little one is older, and appreciates memories and birthdays more than she does today, she’ll want to sit with this album and go through the pictures of her first birthday. I know I would.

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