the deprived desi

I love ziplock bags.

The thing is they were always so foreign. and desirable.

I first saw them when my cousins came down from the states. And that was it, love at first sight.

I was envious of how casually my american relatives treated these precious bags. They carried medicines in them, make up stuff in another, prayer books and all sorts of odds and ends.

I was too shy to ask for one. Then one day I saw my aunt empty the one that carried her make up, and toss it where the pile of old newspapers used to stay stacked.

this was my chance, to own my very own zip lock bag. i'd carry my lunch in it. i'd put my make up stuff in it. i'd casually chop some fruit and toss it in to the bag. even though I didn't really like fruit back then. All this flashed through my head. and then, my other aunt pounced on the bag. she had been eyeing them too. like a hawk. and she was faster than me.

so my american cousins, as a parting gift, gave her all their zip lock bags. and my silent love for them just grew.

Over the last ten years I've managed to collect my own little horde of ziplock bags. Most have landed in my lap, when friends have landed over left over food. What they don't know is, I couldn't care less about the food, I just hunger for those bags.

Any how, now i'm helping MIAMA pack his bags. And yesterday I bought a dozen zip lock bags. So he can keep his first aid kit, the dry fruits, the lip balm...each in it's own zip lock bag.

Sometimes, being old aint that bad. at least you can afford as many zip locks as your heart desires.