I HAVE BEEN THE VICTIM OF A WORLDWIDE KINDERGARTEN CONSPIRACY!
The babies of the world are out to get me.One look at my sexy body and you know that I'm a foodie. I just love food! All kinds of food are deeply appreciated by the Jhunjhunwala palate (except horrible tasting grub and unsanitary ones of course).
I never discriminate against food. You can bake it, boil it, toss it, deep fry, shallow fry or whole fry it, blanch it, sauté it, garnish it, tenderize it, spice it, juice it, melt it, freeze it, pickle it, soak it, stuff it, roast it, toast it, beat it and heat it. Dammit! If it's food I will eat it.
So imagine my agony when I recently dined out with the family. What was supposed to be a hearty meal turned out to be an epic struggle between myself and a Baby. Yes, A BABY.
A little infant who obviously jealous of the fact that I am cooler,richer,cuter and sexier than it and that I'm allowed to eat solid food and ice cream and have as many chocolates as I want decided to engage me in a bloody and violent battle which would alter the very course of humanity.
Every single time I eat dinner at a restaurant with my wife, daughter and twin sons it is but inevitable that there WILL be a baby walking all across the Restaurant Floor screaming it's lungs out, crying till the cows come home.
I call this adversary the 'Restaurant Baby'. The Restaurant Baby is a devious, sinister, diaper wearing mass of pure evil whose only aim is to spoil the experience of a nice, quiet meal with friends and family. Most people would consider it to be an innocent act wherein the baby is only throwing a tantrum but I being the superior being that I am know that babies want to rule the world and it's their agenda to spoil restaurant decorum by jumping, bawling, crawling and drawing all over the place.
They simply won't let you be. The setup is pretty much always the same! A mother who can't control the child, juggling actions, reactions, feeding bottles, nappies and everything in between. The father who won't do anything but talk on his cell phone all dinner long and then the baby itself which has been expertly trained to avoid the hapless mother's grasp, pulling her hair, messing up her clothes, engaging the waiters in a deadly game of cat and mouse all the while mocking you for being unable to stop it's reign of terror. And of course, there's the crying.....ALWAYS. Once the baby starts to cry at the appetizer it won't stop till you reach the dessert.
So there I was at the table enjoying a conversation with my wife. The waiter brought in the soup. I enjoyed the waft of the fresh garnish that had peppered the excellent Mulligatawny Soup. Just as I dipped the spoon in, it began, the baby blared with the shrillest cry.
Yes, there was the restaurant baby crying away at the exact instant I had begun my meal. A table away, nestled in the chair next to its mother, it had declared war the moment the delicious soup touched my tongue.
I knew what I was up against. This baby had no intention of keeping quiet. In time it would grow into an uncontrollable, consuming monster which would totally spoil my mood and destroy my meal.
I had to do something. I had to fight back. Dammit! Baby. This meant war and I had no Intention of losing.
ME VS. THE BABY! IT WAS ON!
[In part 2 of this article His Greatness describes his epic battle with the Restaurant Baby. Tune in next week, same time same place]
The Fake Jhunjhunwala is the parody writer of the popular blog 'The Secret Journal Of Rakesh Jhunjhunwala'. He likes counting money. He is a big fan of Samosas, Ice Cream, Pav Bhaji, Pizza, Garlic Bread and Beer.
His hobbies include playing Super Mario, Stalking Hot Babes and Watching B-Grade films to intensively investigate any censor board violations. He also watches Cricket and worships Sachin Tendulkar as much as he worships himself. Read more from him at http://www.rakeshjhunjhunwala.in/
He can also be found on twitter usually ranting about Uday Chopra, The Universe and everything in between at http://twitter.com/Jhunjhunwala