Glassy tales

That day, when our order of drinks arrived at the restaurant, I caught G staring mesmerized at them. One look at those two glasses and this is what came out of my mouth-

"God, I can't understand this trend of serving drinks in mason jars. It feels like drinking directly out of a Horlicks bottle."

Needless to say, the magic moment was gone for her. G was irate. She could not understand how I found mason jars aesthetically repugnant. There is something about their perfectly symmetrical, broad cylindrical shape that put me off. They look like a dhol. A vertical “paash baalish” or side pillow. Something I could see storing my Horlicks powder in, but would never drink out of.

She was further annoyed, and seriously so, when I added that a few weeks ago, my landlady got me a set of six mason jars to use, which I most respectfully refused. Confused, she left my place, leaving behind only two out of those six jars. I never used those jars. I tucked them away in a corner of the cupboard where I could not see them and had to stand on tiptoe to get them. The conversation at the restaurant ended with G telling me that I do not have a good taste and I do not understand aesthetics. It is quite possible.

So I came home and brought those jars down, looking at them to understand what was so special about them. The jars reminded me of simple geometry problems, the ones where you calculated the volume, total surface area and the curved surface area of cylinders. However, I try to keep an open mind while trying out new things. That day, after I had made my cold coffee, I decided to drink it out of a mason jar. Maybe I'll feel its magic once I drink from it.

I was wrong. It didn't feel like drinking out of a Horlicks bottle after all. It rather felt like drinking out of a Yankee candle jar. Judge me all you want, but I am not doing it again. I want my old glasses back.

sunshine