Hello!

My exams are finally done. I had my EVS paper today. I did well.

I might be feverishly blogging for the next few weeks, or I might just be lax.

Either way, here’s my post after almost a month!

:D

Cheers all.

The little boy...

I take my kid sister to the local park occasionally. The park is situated quite close to my house. It’s the one next to the over bridge. The kids flock there everyday, though you might probably see more of them in the evenings. The elders do the usual “walk-in-the-park”. The park is half done actually. There is an open field in the center. The walking track runs along its perimeter. The swings, see-saws and the others are at one end. Lots of benches around.

On one such evening, I sat on the favorite bench of mine, located within the playing area. My sis went on to slide down the slide. I watched the other kids quarrelling over the swing. Time went by.
A smartly dressed little boy came and asked if the skipping rope on the bench was mine. I looked at it and said, “No. Not mine.” He said, “I’ll take it then”.

I replied, “You cant do that! It might be someone else’s. They might come for it later”.

A young girl came by and said that it was hers and took it away.

The little boy sat next to me.

“I have a comb”, he said. Taking it out, he brushed his wavy hair like he’d never done it before.

Now, this little guy spoke in half English and half Kannada.

“What you are doing?”, he asks. “Sending mail?”

Yours truly was messaging. I looked at him and said, “Yes”.

“To whom ya?”

“My friend”.

He puts his little hand over my shoulder. Me, being me, gives a start. I say to myself- God, Thej, he’s just a little boy.
I relax.

“I’ll also mail to my friend! You do ya, I’ll tell”.

“Er... ok”.

He dictates something childish and I pretend to “mail” it. He laughs in an animated way. I smile at him. He sits closer to me.
“Will you be my friend? I like making friends.”

“Hmmm .. ok”.
“Which standard are you in?”, I ask.

“UKG”.

“Hmmm? Which school?”

“Vani”.

“Oh.. ok.. Which subject do like?”

“Drawing! I draw nice.”

“Really? What do you like to draw?”

“I draw houses... nice houses!”
“I climb that and show you wait... “, so saying, he gets up and tries his hand at the alphabets or something.

I smile at him.

He comes back and sits on my other side. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“With whom have you come here?”, I ask him.

“My Grandma. My Mom is not free. She does cleaning work at houses. Cleaning! Ha ha ha!”.

I just smile again.

His Granny comes by and asks him if he’ll come along. He replies that he’s with a friend and that he’ll come later.

“ He likes talking to elders. Don’t mind. He doesn’t like playing with the other kids much”, she says.

“Its ok... No problem!”, I assure her. “I’ll be on the corner bench, ok son?”, so saying, she leaves.

Patting my knee, he says enthusiastically, “You come to my home. I will show you my drawings. I got prize also!”

“Ha? Ok..”

“That road, go straight, take right, left there is my home. When will you come? Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.. I’ll see.”

By this time, I message a few of my friends saying, “I am in a park and a little boy comes and puts his hand over my shoulder.”
One of them suggested that I punch him in the nose, to which I had to reply that the boy was in kindergarten. The other, who was not in station, called me pronto. I explained to him that the little boy was, well, little. I even made him talk to the boy. The few words the little guy spoke was “Ok... ok...”. My dear friend, content that it WAS indeed just a little boy, bade good bye to me.

His hand back on my shoulder, he asks, “Will you come to the park everyday? What time?”

“Around 5:30... around this time in the evening”.

“Come early ya... ok? I will also come.. we’ll sit and talk. Ok ya?”.

“I’ll try.. “

“You come to my home ya..”

The sky gets darker. Getting up, I take his hand and say, “Come, we’ll search for my sister.”

I find her with a group of kids, more or less of her own age, playing in the middle of the field. I tell her, “Stay here. I’ll leave him with his Granny and be back. Don’t go anywhere, alright?”.

My astute sis, “Who is he?”

“My friend”.

“Tch! Tell me .. who is he?!”

One of her friends exclaims, “Oh this boy!? He is my father’s friend too!”.

I say, “There! See, I told you he’s my friend.”.

“Come on.. “ , I tell him.

My sis and her friends tag along.

We walk around the park... He spots his Granny.

“Hope he dint give you trouble.”, she says.

“None at all... He talks a lot though!”.

I turn to him and say, “Bye bye!”.

I call out to my sis who lingers near the unknown boy. She asks yet again, “Who is he?”.

“I told you, he is a friend of mine.”.

“Tch!”, comes her reply.


The following two days, even though I went to the park and sat on the same bench for hours, the little boy dint turn up. I sat there, thinking about him. I thought of how free and out spoken he was... how easily he made me feel comfortable.
If you know me in real life, you might understand what I mean.


While typing out this blog entry, I texted my friend requesting him to search for the message I’d sent him nearly a month ago and to give me the exact date. He digs through the archives of my thousand odd messages to him and replies, “27th”.

So, it was on 27th of March.

I’ve been thinking of, for loss of a better word, penning this down for days. I finally did it.

Ironically, I dont remember his name.

A post

11/05/2008.

More like a note to self.

A few things have come out. And here I was thinking a confrontation was needed.

Have you ever felt like this? Even though you expect something, when that eventually comes/occurs, you cant take it in you. Its JUST way too hard. You expect something to happen, you know it will, but when it does, you are "torn".
Now that reminds me of Natalie Imbruglia's song Torn.

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bPndxNNKfA


Try that. It was not embedded. So the link.

Pay attention to the lyrics.



Who am I kidding?

Ah.. hello!

You're in control is there anywhere you wanna go?
You're in control is there anything you wanna know?
The future's for discovering.
The space in which we're traveling.

- Coldplay

I might have started boring you with this (iff you’ve read my previous posts, that is). But who cares! Get bored. Bah!

The recent turn of events in my life, have brought me back to the same question again. My purpose here? Or rather, what IS anybody’s purpose on this ‘planet’ that we call ‘earth’? Or on this humungous universe. Or whatever/wherever we are. If we actually ARE, that is. I’m starting to think that it’s all an illusion. But that’s not what I WANT to believe. But then again, there are very few things I actually believe in. I’ll prattle about that later.

I know that someday I’d be an... an.. Albert Einstein or a.. Rukmini Devi Arundale (People who know me in real life, go ahead, laugh. I am laughing too, anyway. :| ). Meaning that I’d someday be remembered through text books and more. Which is so very NOT likely. But so what?! Big deal! Bah!

What about the life that I’m living now? Questions without answers, you’d say. So? Look for some answers without questions, will ya dud?

I want to know what the heck am doing here. I’ve a good mind to stop everything that I’m doing right now and sit still for nearly 23 hours a day for a lifetime and see what happens. Apart from the obvious answers to that weird thought of mine, I’d appreciate a few logical, real, good, legible ones. (Legible? Yeah. You read it right. )

And no, it aint a paradox. :|

Ironic

If you haven’t heard Alanis Morissette’s song Ironic, well it’s just too ironic that you haven’t.

It never fails to lift my mood up.

:))

That horrible huge zit!!!

What can I say?

The title says it all.

:|

That four letter word.

It all started with this text message a certain friend sent me on a busy afternoon. “Everyone is an a**hole.” it said. To which I replied, “Nearly ALL guys are Casanovas.” She said she agreed with me, after looking up the word ‘Casanova’. That message of mine, forwarded to a common friend, resulted in my posting of this topic. One thought and opinion of ours led to another and it finally stopped at the issue of “Love”. I happened to remember a certain line from one of Bon Jovi’s hits and mulled over it. I later sent the following text message to quite a few people.

“Read carefully and answer.

Is true love blind? OR Is blind love true?”

The replies I got (very few responded) are as put in below. Names have been with held.

Miss.S1. - Some how true love is blind seems to be more fitting. But then, blind love can also be true na? Sometimes I feel love is crap. Total. It is painful.

Well, MissS1, that’s neither here nor there. :))

Mr.N. - I think love blinds truth. Whatever tht means. Tch tch.

A personal favourite of the replies I got. :)

Mr.P. - If there is love then no need to be blind.. because love is jst a feeling an it dnt ask fr anything else.

Ok. Now that reply is from a guy who tries to be philosophically funny. Guess you get it. If you dint, sorry. :))

Miss.S2. - Love is nt true n love cnt b blind.

Dear Miss.S2, how much that reply shows about your take on the concept of love.

Miss.A1. - Love doesn exit..

Knowing about you, I wouldn’t have expected any thing less. It shows your insecurity and distrust I guess. What say?

Mr.A1. - Both are one and the same.

No they aren’t!!! Aw... come on now!

Miss.P. - Blind luv true

I see.

Miss.A2. - I have no idea friend. Will ask *a certain girl who is apparently going around with a guy* n tell you. :-D

LOL!

Spoken like a true Miss.A2!

Mr.S. - (After much urging) True love is blind..

Being the true romantic that you are, I accept it. In your case. :))

Mr.A2. - (After much urging here too) The first one.

Expected. :)

Well folks! That’s what a few people thought. I hope they got the difference between the two questions, if there is any. I hope you, my dear reader, got it too.

My take? Is true love blind? If you do not see the consequences before hand, I’d say, yes it is. Is blind love true? Well, so said Bon Jovi!!!

Bah!

Neither I guess.

;)

;)

;)

I hope either Luke bhaiya or Shailesh comment on this.

:|

Toodles every one!

And yes, I know I always seem too vague in my posts.