She was India's first immortal child. She was in every house, on every chai stall, in every shop. She attended school year after year without needing to grow up. She was up before dawn for the first morning cup with grandma, before anyone else woke up. She was found whole, neatly stacked, in our bags on way to school, and in happy odds and ends on the way back. She was there when we forgot to bring lunch, she was there during class and after. She was in every pocket, in every tiffin, in every jar. She was there when radio was switched on, the newspaper opened, when TV was beaming. She was there when the house was full, she was there when I was dreaming. She wasn't a variable, she was steel. Everything else was an exaggerated deal. Do you ever remember meeting anyone who refused her? She was not a biscuit, she was egality. Quora says she is Neeru Deshpandey from Nagpur, I don't believe it. Wiki declares 'Gunjan Gundaniya', I don't believe it. The earnest Mayank Shah at Parle Products takes the folklore and rips it: It's actually an illustration by an Everest creative from the 60s, he says it. I still don't believe it. Ofcourse I knew she wasn't real to begin with. All she was, was egality, and now we have lost it.
<in response to everything around, triggered by the news that top biscuit maker Parle may cut up to 10,000 jobs as economy slowdown bites>