Gift wrapped

To gift or not to gift- no, it isn’t as existential a question as that. ‘Gift’ has too tantalizing a wrap to it for a clear no. A colourful birthday gift, an unconnected knife with the tea packet, the keys of a Mercedes Benz, a holiday for two for two nights, a gifted child- the very delicious flavour of the word ‘free’ which goes with gift, who can resist these? …Some musings on gifts, as I have experienced them, come a-straying to the mind and they asked to be shared…absolutely Free!

Look at a gift horse in the mouth...or is it DON'T? I’d have the irresistible urge to check out its dentistry first. Or its trot. Even its voice box. I’d expect my gift horse to have a healthy appetite (courtesy good teeth) and a neigh like the movie bandit’s horsie. He would of course take me for health giving rides…the gifter wouldn’t want to take me for a ride, would he? We are mercifully not in Akbar Birbal times when horses and elephants were routinely gifted. Or even cows . I have heard my grandma say that a cow given away as a gift or ‘daan’ in her village had to be a healthy one…dentally et al. It was given with great fanfare along with a hay supply to last some ruminating weeks and it had to go the right person, to a worthy cause and for a right occasion. I like those thoughts…a value-added responsibility for the gift and towards the gifted.

After all a gift should not become a pain in the neck…

I think of those half dozen cloned aluminium milk cookers which arrived as my wedding gifts. Was the ‘in’ gift item in those ancient times to aid a new bride boil milk without absent-minded accidents. I could probably have kept a couple of them as heirloom if only I hadn’t got sick of packing so many of them with each transfer.

The oxidized camel in the show case, a birthday gift, seems to mull, camel-like, over a lot of things. About oxidized, dead gifts in fact. Objects so carefully chiseled they leave nothing to the imagination. The plastic flower with dew drops so faithfully fevicoled…’like real’, so real you couldn’t improve on it except perhaps dust the dew off every second day. Or the suffocated looking plastic birdie inside a glass box saying ‘have a good day’ on its side. A show case for me reeks of prison and zoo. Nothing in it breathes freely or evolves. Oh! The poor dolls and soft toys shut in there, punished permanently by a teacher!
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A gift should have the potential of suggestion. Like a coma, a colon or three dots… A bowl, a vase, a stand , a frame, a notebook, a scribble pad, paper….my daughter thinks me crazy but I believe the big mug my best friend gave me need not necessarily brim over with beer but could harbour a riot of roses(not the pre-dewed ones). The quaint metal pen stand seems so appropriate to stick a leaf or two of my crotons to add a spark of colour to the kitchen platform… the beautiful ceramic bowl on the table is my ‘hurry bank’ for fivers. A roll of brightly coloured wrapping paper becomes the family’s ‘photo gallery’ on the bedroom wall on which are stuck memories we like to have and to share; a gateway to family feels and a great way to spark off conversations with visitors.

If you have had something for nothing, the bill is surely around the bend…yet the lure of the ‘first two hundred pulses free’ telephone line kindles my avidity. I make calls, STD, ISD and local and 200 pulses seem to interpret as 200 calls …And much as I like to think I can see through optical illusions, aggressive gifting creates its own web of illusions…while something..no a whole basketful of something for nothing is what makes the world whirr, ‘little for more’ also probably qualifies as a sane propeller of human destinies. Isn’t it this anticipatory return syndrome which spurs seekers and devotees on most of the time? Gift takers-gift givers…an eternal symbiosis …what if the gift giver is a fraudster…what if the gift is a slew of presidential pardons? Fasten your seatbelts in the merry –go –round called life and see the world rotate merrily with cadeaux, ‘bakshish’ and ‘little somethings ….

The most alive-and kicking- gifts are for me of together- times, of learning, teaching, growing..a plant, a thought…how about some timeless moments instead of a watch, some incentive to break-n-build instead of a toy, a recipe taught, a whiff of unsuspected wisdom caught from another… Wont do, I hear a voice say, how much ever ethereal and expansive you get, nothing like a concrete gift to seal a deal...a token of affection, of gratitude, of appreciation. And did you notice that it’s the winners who win more. A lottery winner, a winning team, an exam topper, a Miss World. Well, grapes ARE sour consolation prizes notwithstanding.


My little son used to ask me to hide the smallest gift- a chocolate- so that he could ‘discover’ it himself. The joy of the discovery far outweighed the worth of the gift. If there were more than two little gifts, he would want it to be a treasure hunt, with written clues and all.

Indeed, nothing like a box of chocolates to offer, to get as gift, to hide in the fridge for midnight expeditions, to discover…non controversial, consumer friendly, enriching in all directions. Life, said someone, is like a box of assorted wrapped chocolates, full of suspense… bitter ones, round ones, nutty ones, pretty ones.. the more the wraps, the more the suspense, the more the thrills… so also thought my little one.


But leave aside the big ideas of a small child; I still go by which tea packet offers what free, nicely splashed and illustrated in bold yellow.