It's 2016.

That annoying knob
Exactly 15 years ago, I was sitting down on the floor with my mom on nothing but a bare mattress in the drawing room of our newly built home. The home was all there was, and by that I mean literally a stripped down home. No carpets, no beds, no sofas, no kitchen tables. An old black and white 14" TV was all there was. You know those TVs where you had to stand up and twist that knob just to change the channel, yes those ones.

We were sitting down and watching CNN on the broadcast. The count down to the new millennium had begun and I had my eyes glued to a sluggishly looking news reporter who was at somewhere I don't remember; She was remarking on how the year 2000 is going to be exciting and how things had really changed in the last century. 

Things had really changed. The first flight, (Japanese invasion of Korea), the world wars, (The Korean War), the cold wars, (Dictatorship), Yuri Gagarin, the invention of transistors and subsequent age of computing and digital media, (Rise of Samsung), and of course, the internet. 

The internet! 

Of course, I didn't give a tit about what all the internet or the world wars or anything else for that matter. I was just happy I was about to bite into a burger my mom had ordered from the Bakery Cafe. And the Fanta. THE Fanta. 

My mom was particularly careful about what I ate and how she managed my diet. And she was particularly careful with her not spending excessive amount on needlessly useless stuff, like fantas or burgers. These were luxuries. My mom's focus was on spending all their money on my education and not on fancy food. 

I am stressing this fact because the presence of The Fanta was quite significant. Special days had special treats and I was here sitting down with a glass of orangy sugery goodness holding a sumptuous looking veggie burger. I was a vegetarian then. 

Just as the countdown reached ten, and I raised my glass to cheer, I clumsily spilled all of it on the red cold floor. All of my fanta gone in a split sec. I looked miserable. 

My mom was quietly looking at all of this from the opposite side. She sighed a bit and pushed her glass of Fanta towards me ushering me to take her's instead. She mentioned that she was happy to drink a glass of water and the soft drink was just too sweet for her and that I should have it. 

Greedy as I was, I drank it all as the black and white fireworks in all that 0-255 bit (signal was analog but still) brightness took to the skies.  Little did I care that my mom had to pay the price for my screw up, something she did throughout the next decade or so. She knew all too well that she needed to be with me for the new millennium making sure I don't end up being a trash. 

And here I am not being a complete trash. Thanks for sticking with me Ma. 
Happy New Year, Abhu.

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