A few days ago, Balaji came down to Chennai from Seattle. We met for breakfast and played catch up for a couple of hours. Amma invited him over for lunch, before which we decided to continue yakking at home in my room. A short while later, I got a call which I had to take and unfortunately, it ended up taking longer than I thought it would. As luck would have it, Balaji got a couple of calls himself while I was on the phone and he took them outside the room.
He came back in about 10 minutes later and started typing on the computer and once he was done, he pointed me to it. This is what he’d written:
What are we? Freakin’ teenagers? *aaaaarrrrgggghhh* Whoever it was that said, “With friends like these, you don’t need enemies,” definitely had Balaji in mind.
This one played out a few years ago, but it’s still rather fresh in my memory simply because of how big a jackass this guy was being. Here’s how it played out:
A few years ago, I paid a visit to a soon-to-be mother. Unfortunately, she was having health complications and her mother had flown in from overseas to help take care of her. They finally figured out that the health complications were due to some problems with her heart. Obviously, we were all very concerned for her and her parents were getting very worried as the levels of water retention rose causing her to swell to about twice her normal (pregnant) size. But by the grace of the divine, things worked out and due to very good care, they were able to overcome the complications and had a beautiful baby.
But over the entire time, once it was found that the heart condition could potentially (not certainly, but potentially) be genetic in nature, the husband kept repeating that his wife had a “manufacturing defect”. He made it a point to do this, repeatedly, in front of her parents, siblings and friends who were already distraught and worried for her.
I guess with a frenemy like that for a husband, the rest of her life is going to be wonderful.
Oh, and my response to him, with a sweet smile, of course: Some manufacturing defects are physical. Some mental. We all know which type we have, now don’t we?