The Shorts Were Always Short

The others are my brother and my favourite of dad’s 6 brothers. That was some 20 years ago… back when we ate mints for fun. Back when my hair was oiled and combed in all the wrong ways known only to Tam Brahms in Madras who sent their kids to schools with names like PS Senior. In case you’re wondering, PS expands to Pennathur Subramaniam. Wow… I just remembered that my school was (at least partly) named after me. Anyway, you know the effects of studying in such a school with hair oiled and combed like that… I used to be convinced that kids going to schools with names like Boston Matriculation were smarter, stronger, faster, funnier, cooler, bigger…

So Everyone (read Women In My Life) says something nice when they see that picture… like “ohhh! You were succchhha cute boy!” and to my eyes the cute is massacred by the past tense. Ok, please don’t post comments trying to cheer me up. I’m thinking why no one told me anything nice back then. I’m also thinking that 20 years from now, when Everyone is flirting with menopause, they’ll say all nice things and remember which tense to use.