My darling mother called me this morning to remind me it is Aamir Khan’s birthday today. I had forgotten. I’m celebrating today, not because it is the ijit’s birthday, but because it finally looks like I am no longer a teenager. Hurray!
On March 14 many years ago, when my room used to be plastered with his posters, my mother had surprised me with a chocolate cake that read “Happy Birthday Aamir”. She had also surprised the pastry shop guy. She reported this conversation:
Him: “Ma’am, what do you want written on it?”
Her: “Happy Birthday Aamir”
Him: “Aamir Khan?”
Him: “You know Aamir Khan?”
Her: “Yes. Of course.”
Him (eyeballs popping): “He’s celebrating his birthday with you?”
Him (Falling over the counter): “How do you know him? Are you related to him?”
Her: “I am the mother of a teenage daughter.”
Him (grinning): “You want candles?”
Anyone who thinks this story is pathetic is hereby requested to go drown his/her heartless self in the nearest well. Anyone who says “Aww” will be shot dead.
And Ma, I love you.
And oh, Happy Birthday Aamir, even though you're such a jerk.