I just came across something I had written years ago. I had meant to finish it of course, but never got around to it. Anyway here it is…

Useless Fact #1
I was born with a wisdom tooth. My maternal grandmother found it when I was 15 days old and told my parents I was the devil’s child and would turn out to be wicked. The tooth fell out a few days or weeks later.

Useless Fact #2
When I was around 2 years old I pushed a pebble way up my nostril. I had to be rushed to the emergency room, which was a few metres away from my house (we lived in a hospital complex back then). In fact, I was playing in the gravel right outside the hospital when I decided to pick up a tiny pebble and introduce it to my nose.

Useless Fact #3
When I was 4 or 5, my Dad told me he knew Tarzan very well and that he used to often visit him in the jungle, which was on the way to his office. Of course, I believed him and when he said that Tarzan would give me any animal from the jungle that my heart desired, I asked for a puppy dog. Every evening when Dad came home from work, I would demand to know where the puppy was. And every day Dad had a new excuse for not being able to meet Tarzan, and this went on for a long time till I finally lost interest or grew up, whichever came first. I think it was the latter because I still want that puppy!

Useless Fact #4
My favourite song as a toddler went like this, “I have a dolly and her name is Betty..” I don’t remember the rest but apparently I sang it all the time. No, I didn’t have a dolly called Betty.

Useless Fact #5
I not only loved singing and dancing as kid, I also loved having an audience, which by the way I couldn’t pronounce. So I would jump on the bed and ask my grandmother, Dad, brother, and houseboy to sit down on the floor and watch me perform.
“You all have to be the evidence,” I used to tell them. Yes, evidence I could pronounce!

Useless Fact #6
Once while we were holidaying in Goa, Granny wrote a letter to my Dad who was in Bombay at the time. She left some space at the end and asked me to write a few lines. So I wrote:
My Dear Daddy,
How are you? I am fine. It’s very hot here. When are you coming? I'm eating lots of tender coconut. Ok bye now I have to play.
From your loving dotter,
R...

Granny screamed at me and made me correct the spelling. Is that how you spell daughter!?! The same Granny who used to write to my Dad saying, “My knees are paining. I fill very weak.”
Later, when Bill Clinton became President of the US, she was thrilled that they had such a handsome president but why did he give his daughter such a difficult name to pronounce?
"Come here," she said to me, waving my Dad's copy of TIME magazine in her hand.
"How do you say this word C-h-e-l-s-e-a? Is it "Clancy"?"
"Yes Granny. It's Clancy."
I never bothered correcting her. I know, I know, I am wicked. Had to prove my maternal grandmother right, didn't I?


P.S. Sorry about leaving the last post hanging mid-way. I will try and finish it by tomorrow.