I always knew it. Felt it in my blood...literally...hehe. (Yes, if you'll excuse me, I am in fact laughing at my own joke, but don't worry, you'll hopefully get it once you've read the post).
So, on a recent trip to the Mothership, my grandmother told me this tale of yore, about us (the family that is) being of royal descent. Yes I know, I did a double take as well. But dear reader, for better or worse, true blue I am. Lets just accept that and move on.
For as you know, grandmothers can't lie.
So here's the truth then.
Apparently, my great grandfather was the king of this small (or was it medium) kingdom in North India. The great behind the grandfather lends him enough ancestory to have been around the Mutiny of 1857. Although he did win a medal in British India, I am not sure what else happened...whether he fought or sipped chai all day long...for this part of the story was left vague by said grandmother (If I remember correctly, at that time in the story telling, someone had got Rasmalai and as you know, grandmothers can't resist Rasmalai).
Now after the Rasmalai, it transpired that my king ancestor had 2 daughters from one wife and one daughter from another and no son. But as was the nature of the disease that afflicted most royals in those days, he went and adopted a son. The rest as they say is history. That thankless bastard, on great grandpa's death, threw the 3 daughters out and took over the kingdom.
One of those wives was my great grandmother. God bless her. Hope she's throwing rotten tomatoes from heaven into hell at the bugger.
So there ends my sad but true tale. I should have been born in a palace with glittering chandeliers under royal guard protection and the watchful eye of a scheming minister, but instead was born in a private hospital in a dusty town called Gurgaon. I am what is commonly called, in exile.
Some say it was obvious to the eye after meeting me, the royalty bit that is, but why dwell on that. Although, I do hope my maths teacher somehow gets to know off this and realises I was right all along. Doing Maths homework is no way to spend a prince's school life.
To make up for my Maths teachers ignorance I recited this story to my boss. His response - "So, now you want to be addressed as Your Highness?".
Sigh, everyone's got a funny bone here.
I said "Well, I was really looking for a raise, but yes, I'll settle for your highness".
At which he guffawed.
Bloody Common People!