Skip to main content

The Last Momo (Challenge Accepted!)

In today's blog I wish to chronicle a phenomenon that I have christened the "Last Momo Effect". The Last Momo Effect refers to the fact that whenever kids or teenagers go out for a meal - or even if they're eating at home - the teenager will always get the last momo or the last slice of garlic bread or the last whatever else. I might as well have called it the "teenagers always get food" effect, but my dad challenged me to write a blog post called "The Last Momo" (hence the "Challenge Accepted").

I've always kind of wondered why that might be, because after all, it's only a bit of food. By the time you even GET to the last one, everyone's probably had two or three already, so it's far from likely that the kid is hungry. He/she/I don't need the momo in order to survive. But I still get the momo (I've always thought that this was perhaps a way of paying us for all the chores our parents make us do). 

The lesson I've learned from the above two paragraphs is that you cannot, no matter how hard you try, stretch an idea called "The Last Momo Effect" for more than two paragraphs. The rest of this blog, therefore, is going to cover the advantages of being a teenager (apart from reliably getting then last momo). 

First, there is the fact that you can own stuff without having paid for it. My phone, for instance, was paid for by my parents - but I still own it. I never paid for clothes on my back, but they're still mine (possibly because they're too sweaty for anyone else to want to wear them). All the books and gadgets and outrageously expensive video games I own are also paid for by my parents.

There is also - and this one is my favourite - free food. I don't have to pay for any of the (numerous) things I eat. I can eat obscene quantities of whatever food I may want and have someone else pay for it. I don't know what they meant when they said "there's no such thing as free lunch", but they clearly had no idea what they were talking about.

When you're a teenager is when you do all the almost-stupid things that you probably shouldn't do, like swim in flowing water and bug your mother while she reads. They're no dangerous, exactly - well, the second one is - but they're still things you aren't likely to do when you're twenty-five and trying desperately to come up with a college project that is good enough to help you pass. 

I'd add a passage about kind and loving parents, but I'm going to leave it out. Not that I don't have kind and loving parents - I do - but every blog/essay/facebook post written by a teenager about why they like being a teenager is certain to feature a paragraph about why they love their parents. This paragraph has been written way too many times, so I'm just going to skip it.

In closing, I ask you, O great and majestic reader, to tell me in the comments why you give the last momo to your child. I'm serious, I've always wondered, and what better way to find out than to ask you on a blog post?


Popular posts from this blog

No Good Place To Do Mutra Visarjan In This Country...

At least, that's what Chatur Ramalingam seems to think. However, many of our fellow Indians seem to disagree with him. According to them, there are nothing BUT places to do mutra visarjan (for all you poor, masochistic folks - ah, I mean, non-movie-going folks - out there, mutra visarjan means urine expulsion). In case you haven't guessed already, we're going to be talking about one of India's most widely criticized and even more widely practiced issues - public urination.

I'm not exactly saying that it's our people's fault - I mean, come on, we have so much urine-related cultural history! Just in the past 50 years, we've had people who've used their urine for everything from watering plants to drinking it (I believe that some people also flush it down their toilets. How wasteful of them). Besides all the historical precedents, however, we also have some more practical reasons for peeing wherever and whenever we feel like.

If you've ever seen a …

Exam Fever

As anyone currently in the twelfth will tell you, with varying levels of dismay, the final exams are right around the corner. Parents everywhere are seizing their children's phones and taking time off from work. Panicked screaming ensues at intervals.

I don't believe there's a person on the planet who genuinely enjoys exam season. Actually, I take that back - there's no one in India who enjoys exam season. Partially, I think this is our own fault. Exams are the most important things in an Indian student's life, so parents seem bent on bottling up all the worry and concern they have about their kid's education and allowing it to spew forth in a torrent of "No more video games!" and "Delete WhatsApp!" commands during the two months surrounding the exams. Small wonder, then, that at 17, I believe the purpose of exams is to seasonally blot the sunshine from otherwise happy lives.

This whole exam fever thing does have some upsides. Okay, one - it…

Why Use A Big Word Where A Diminutive One Will Suffice?

A few weeks ago, one of my friends who reads my blog (and doesn't comment, just like so many of you) asked my why the vocabulary I use in my blogs isn't all fancy and flowery. Largely, this is because my classmates think of me as a walking, talking dictionary of sorts. You see, a few years ago, I used to be a big spelling bee freak, and I used to keep winning those, and my classmates got wind of them and my nickname became, much to my consternation, "Dictionary". Not that there's anything wrong with dictionaries - I'm sure they're all perfectly wonderful books. My problem is with being called "Dictionary" when I have a perfectly wonderful name like "Ritvik".

The thing is, I generally make it a point not to use big words. Not because I think my audience is dumb - you yourself, for instance, are a prime example of the crème de la crème of intellectual society. No, really, I can see that from here. I write with diminutive vocabulary to av…