Jira,

In-laws are in-laws. They don’t care much; they only illustrate some designed interest, because they are in-laws. The thanksgiving turkey could have been juicier, but at internal temperature of 165 degrees, I couldn’t blame the bird for not being succulent. I have no complaints, the gravy was juicy enough. Isn’t that a synonym? You may ask. That is not the point of this commentary.

The after dinner conversation was not so priceless. My in-laws are so much into matchmaking; being with them feels like being in a roundtable meeting at eHarmony.com.

So, what do I do? I roam from one room to another looking for a PC (or a laptop) with the Internet connection. I find one. I type Sajha.com to see if someone has posted some comments in my new thread. There is none. In a way, I am relieved.

Glanced through the Kurakani threads and saw your piece. I had to click on it because I remember your witty poem titled ‘Eh Baa, Kathmandu maa Dashain aayo.’ Besides, being a rumormonger myself, I wanted to find out what the rumor was.

What a refreshing read it turned out to be. Sajha is full of romantics who see the glass half-full even when it is in the dishwasher. I had been looking for a true cynic in Sajha for the longest time. I am glad I found one. You juici-fied my otherwise bland thanksgiving. Now I can pardon the dry turkey that is still stuffed in my intestines.  

Happy thanksgiving!

I sincerely thank you for the six minutes of uninterrupted entertainment. The next time, I demand 12 minutes.