My brother is celebrating his 15th birthday today. The party is in full swing. The cake was cut and shared. The cake, by the way is always made by my aunty. We all enjoyed it. Now dinner is under way. The menu is grilled chicken, salad, beef pilaf and we’re having kulfee for desert (it is an Indian ice cream made with milk, cream and pistachio nuts). Grilled fish is also included in the menu. Occasionally I do eat seafood otherwise I do not eat practically any other meat. I wonder whether I should call myself a lacto vegetarian.
Like any of the birthday parties we have three times a year, my grandparents come to visit us – an excuse to have them at home – and dad’s father’ll start talking about the World Wars to whoever will listen.
It’s interesting to know how Hitler was defeated at Stalingrad. As interesting is how the British Spite Fires were so extraordinary. Then I come to think about it. In this technology era, we have TV and the internet among others. But in the 1940s, there weren’t any of those electronic stuff. This generation can read fiction as ebooks. Two generations ago, people were reading the happenings of the war through newspapers. That was their exciting John Grisham fiction. But then, that was better. It was true happenings contrarily to lawyers on the run with a few hundred of million of dollars.
Although I should not say this, war stories are cool. Of course there are people who’ve died but there’s also the military strategy. There are the defeats of those well known figures like Napoleon. But most exciting of all, is the way my granddad recounts the story.
He’s a passionate, having lived in the time of the WWII. Besides, he won’t talk nonsense like so many others – not half as well read as he is – nor will he slip in his own personal opinions, that is to say propaganda.
It’s pretty ironic how a mixture of birthday party and stories of the World Wars make such a good recipe. Almost as good as my the birthday cake itself, I might add.
Just kidding, aunty. Just kidding.