Q for curiosity

Some anecdotes always make you smile, if not chuckle. I remembered one such incident from my brother's past this morning.

Our amma had taken him for his kindergarten interview. Needless to add, she was nervous throughout. Although she had done her level best to teach him the basics, she was worried he'll goof up. By the way, the school we two went to eventually had the Father of the church as the principal. So imagine my ma's horror when she was sitting next to the boy right across the Father's table. My bro wasn't dumb. Just that he was one of those bright kids with learning disabilities. He would keep forgetting stuff but was good with numbers. Anyway, the interview began and the principal started asking him “What's your name?” and “How old are you?” and similar My Self question. I don't know how he fared with them but my ma loved regaling us what he did when the superior took the ABC book out. He was pointing out random pictures in it, asking my brother what they were. “Cat”, “Dog” and stuff like that. It went well until he pointed out to the Q letter. There was a picture of a queen against it. Q for Queen. Befuddled, my cute lil' pie looked at the Father once and then pointed his finger at my ma.

Father couldn't help chuckle.  

Uncommon courage

Some years ago, there was this superb ad running on TV about a guy for whom even a local train bothers to slow down. As he gets into the compartment, his co-commuters share an idea why the aforementioned miracle happened. Turns out the young man had done something remarkable just the day before. Apparently, a group of loafers were harassing a girl in the train and our hero decided to stand up. He didn't wait for others to take an initiative. "Yeh bhaisaab akele hi bidh gaye," adds a bespectacled elder in the video. The details of his actions weren't conveyed but the message was clear: he did a brave job in a city and an era that strictly follows the tujhe kya policy.

PS: I've been trying to find that bravery award commercial on YouTube but to no avail. Also the year when it came out on air, i was in Nashik and had done something similar with a different result. I ended up with bruises and the damsel was still in distress.

Walking the distance

Him: "Do you want me to kiss you? I can do that. Although i've seen it happen in movies, i haven't done it before. But there is a high probability of us getting it right. On top of that, the nocturnal beach is going to help us too. However, there is a catch here. As soon as our lips collide, the space that separates us will be filled with an intimacy that will alter everything that's between us. We'll never be the same again as expectations will roll in and make themselves at home...."

Her: "God! You think too much and talk much more. Alright, just keep walking then."  

The next morning he woke up in his house with a mix of regret and relief. He was sad for being such a control freak but glad too that he didn't plunge in like others would have in his place. Whichever way one tilts the argument, both of them learned last night that a smooch can't possibly last longer than a laughter-filled conversation. 

In the meantime, the dried sand were engrossed in a deep kiss with his sandals.

Cheated by God

If not smiles, then Almighty is in our tears. That's certainly how it looks like...from a distance! I may not be fond of religious activities today (much to my old ma's chagrin) but once upon an innocent time, I was a regular temple-visitor. Often accompanied by her, I used to be at my disciplined best once I entered the holy sanctum. No running around or screaming like an orangutan in a boat. I naturally assumed that it must be a sin to fart too. I used to chant the same pray-for-others-before-you-pray-for-yourself Tulu prayer my grandmother taught me. But neither those words nor those visits allowed me to befriend God. However, that particular miracle happened when I started showing up at the place-that-heals all alone. On my own. Since I didn't have an elder brother to 'protect' me from bullies (though I never thought I was supposed to mean the same to my younger brother) at school, I often confided in the dark Hindu idols. In the long run, my God was to become aware of all my dirty secrets which usually involved stealing money (from dad), stationery (from classmates), chalks (from teachers) and glances (from neighbours). Since I presumed He (yea, it was a colossal gender mistake but in my defense, I was barely eight) should know everything, I told him everything. There were days when I used to sit in front of him and cry inconsolably. He was my official shrink with superpowers. Though he never showed a sign of interest in me, I never gave up on Him. As the months passed by, I was growing tired of being. Finally, I delivered two options: either turn me into a grown-up or help me disappear at will. Stupid me. The Bastard conned me as I neither grew up nor became the invisible human who never was.

Minding skills

   If my niece is quiet, it means just one thing—she's asleep. Her Majesty is seven and counting and VERY curious. Though cuteness comes easily to her, she can be bothersome at times. Actually, most of the times. Maybe children are nature’s way of reminding us how irritating we once were. They can be wonderful too (as long as they don't belong to you!). Little kids fail to realize how innocent their questions usually are. This is what innocence must be all about. You know, that magical instance when you smile at a cutie and that cutie cares to smile back. Yes, they can be incredibly idiotic as well. But then, they do know how to enjoy such moments!

   During my childhood days, i too was like that. I used to poke finger into the eyes of those who tried to pull my cheeks. One good habit i regret giving up. But i was dumb enough to believe that I'll grow up someday. Besides, when i was young(er), i pictured myself in various avatar but none of them was busy slogging in front of a PC. Life.

   Coming back to my cousin's daughter, i don't know what to do with her. She loves to pester me with profoundest of questions. Who can possibly better them at imagination? As the result, i take the liberty to brainwash her. For instance, I've informed her about the Mayans' plan to take over the world coming December. OK, that was ridiculously futuristic. How about some history then? Thanks to me, she now knows how Mowgli along with his jungle friends fought the British Raj and won us independence. She is also convinced that a gun will scare away the ghosts who trouble her at nights. She laughed when i told her that moon is a racist country.

   Fortunately, both of us don't take each other seriously. However, my amma believes I'm creating my clone out of her. She thinks i don't know how to talk to toddlers. Well, ma, believe it or not, i too was a kid once! I know how it works, alrite? Alrite.

Paternal arguments

My dad is busy getting older by asking me questions I thought I was immune to. The first one remains a classic: "Are you serious about life at all?" I knew he was a huge McEnroe fan but he's pushing limits here. This tennis-court query is usually followed by the more benign: "With your meager salary, when are you planning to build a home and have a family of your own?" Hmmm. This is not exactly his fault. It's more of a double fault on my behalf. The catch is I regularly inform my ma about the various levels of progress my engineer friends are accomplishing which involves being a slave to the bank and owning a 2BHK house in return. And being a good wife, she passes on those point-breaking news to her husband of 27 years without analyzing what its consequences shall be on her 26-year-old virgin child. The filial conversation (read: monologues) that ensues later reeks of a clash between pragmatism and nihilism. Small wonder I lose from both sides. To prove a point, his latest retort to my simpler "I don't know!" was exemplary. He said, "Even the crow that drenches all day in rain has a nest to return to when the sun sets." Whoa! This analogy got me pondering and I thought for at least a light year to come up with this conclusion: "Well, pigeons are envious of crows for the latter knows how to enjoy monsoon. But on the other hand, cuckoos always beat crows in their own nest, don't they?" And in my defense, I'm neither that crow nor that pigeon or that cuckoo but someone who favors immunity from reality.