I Am The Maitreya

As the saying goes, ‘in Rome, do as Romans do,’ so I decided to make turkey for Thanks Giving. Have I made turkey earlier? Hell no! Since it wasn’t a rocket science, I had a confidence that I could manage it. I just needed to consult a few culinary books, and I had several TV hours of turkey preparation under my belt. And, if it really did go bad, I could always fall back on my inexperience, and tell my guests, ‘what do you expect for the first timer?’ I hadn’t sent any official invitation to my friends, but somehow, the word got out that I was going to make turkey. And, all of my South Asian friends thought that it was their prerogative to be in the guest list, since it was such an exotic thing to have—whole baked turkey the American style. Everybody might have had turkey over their ‘gora sathi’, but this was the first time over ‘desi’s’ place. I guess, they were more interested in seeing my pretension of being ‘gora’ rather than having dinner, and gloat on my failure rather than on my turkey ( if anyone of you, is reading this, just take it as Jung’s Psycho-Analysis than my personal thought). Before, I realized, the guest number shot over twenty, I was prepared to make turkey, but not a dinner for twenty plus people, it’s a colossal task to make a full course dinner for that crowd, if you have tried anytime, you would know, what I mean.  But, thank god, I was able to save my face, since I didn’t send official invitation to anyone. I dropped the plan of turkey; the news of ‘no dinner’ traveled the same channel that it had found those inquisitives ears earlier at the first place. But, we did have a small dinner with inclusive friends—sans turkey.  

Have I had a turkey party, it would have looked like this, only imagine, the faces little darker. But these children remind me of myself, when we were young, and we would have MoMo party.