Making friends feel special

You are strong enough

But face an accident very tough,

Your friend consoles you even on your cough

But you insult him by a reply very rough

‘I will manage, I am hard enough!’

You may be good and very knowledgeable,

Though a failure makes you extremely unstable,

Your friend comes and tries to enable,

Your morale and understands like an understandable,

But you hurt him again and say, ‘I will manage, I am capable!’

You may be brave and owned with dare,

But still feel lonely and always in despair,

Your friend comes and showers upon all the care,

You leave no opportunity to hurt him and say,

‘I will manage, hard times have taught me how to fair!’

Instead of ‘I will manage’ why don’t we say

‘I will manage with my friends on my bay’

Though we will solve our issues on our own,

Yet your presence will make it a complete different play

And your absence might take us to a totally alien way

It is only togetherness which allows beautiful memories to stay!

Bunny’s eight hours without mom

                Bunny: Mom! Where is my laptop?

                Mom:   It’s on the table!

                Bunny: Where? I can’t see it.

                Mom:   See here it is! You already have four eyes. Do you need more?

                Mom:   Honey! when did you last organize your room and wardrobe?

                Bunny: Umm… I think just two-three days ago. December 5, 2013.

                Mom:   Checkout your room cleaning video on youtube. Verify the date. 

                            It is December 5, 2011.

                Bunny:  But mom! It is already neat and tidy!

                Mom:    No TV and facebook from now onwards!

                Bunny:  Room will be cleaned in one hour mom. J

               

                After one hour-

                Bunny:  Mom! It’s done. You may enter.

                Mom:    Good. I am going to my aunt’s place and will be back in eight hours. 

                            Will you manage?

                Bunny:  (Confidently). Of course mom! I am 15 now! Will definitely manage.

                After two hours of mom leaving-

                Bunny:  Hello mom! It’s me! Do you remember where my blue Jeans are?

                Mom:    You organized your wardrobe just now. Right?

                Bunny:   I know but I can’t find them anywhere here. L

                Mom:    Second cabinet, fifth row from the left, second from top.

                Bunny:  Got it mom!

                After three hours thirty minutes-

                Bunny:   Hello mom! It’s me again! I have already eaten all what you had made.

                Mom:    All?

                Bunny:  Yeah that’s right mom. Four chapattis, rice and daal.

                Mom:    I have soaked some rajma in water.

                            Just add two cups of water in the cooker and boil them till it whistles thrice. 

                            Rest is there in the recipe book.

                Bunny:  Alright mom! Love you.

                After five hours:

                Bunny:  What’s up mom!

                Mom:    Yes honey!

                Bunny:   (Happily) Um…Mom I managed to find the pressure cooker.

                Mom:    That’s good.

                Bunny:   But I am kinda stuck somewhere.

                Mom:    What’s the issue?

               Bunny:    As told by you, I added two cups of water in the rajma and 

                             placed the cooker for boiling.

                   It has been 90 minutes and no whistle in the cooker yet.

                Mom:    Did you cover the cooker with a lid?

                Bunny:  Why? You did not mention this in the procedure!

                After six hours:

                Bunny:   Sorry mom, I am disturbing you.

                Mom:     No. Tell what happened?

                Bunny:   Um… Tomorrow is my physics test. Electro-magnetic induction. Chapter 10.

                Mom:     Okay. All set?

                Bunny:   Yeah. Almost. Just one issue.

                Mom:     What’s that?

                Bunny:   Just found out I have lost my physics book volume 2. 

                              Will have to miss the class.

                Mom:     Chapter 10 is in volume 1 and it is in first cabinet, third column, 

                             fourth from bottom.

                Bunny:   Really? L

                Mom:     Check it out.

                After seven hours:

                Bunny:  Hey mom! Missing you J.

                Mom:    Come to the point.

                Bunny:  Can I go for hangout with my friends?

                Mom:    Are you over with chapter 10?

                Bunny:  Catch you later mom.

                After eight hours:

                Bunny:   Hey mom! Done with chapter 10. Can I go now?

                             Wait! Someone is on the door.

                Bunny opens the door.

                Bunny:   Hi mom!

                Mom:     Hi! All okay?

                Bunny:   Yup.

                Mom:     I’ll get a glass of water.

                Bunny:   Mom! I am done with chapter 10. Can I go now?

                Mom:     I find some rajma stains everywhere in the kitchen.

                             Please help me clean them.

                Bunny:   But mom!

                Mom:     No chats with girlfriend from now onwards.

                Bunny:   (Angrily). Alright. Where is the cleaning cloth?

                Mom:     You are wearing it as your T-shirt.

                

You are next!

What strikes you first after reading this title ‘You are next’? Is it a ration card line? Is it an interview room? Or are you thinking about a hospital queue? Okay here I clarify that no I am not in a hospital waiting for the nurse to call out my name and say ‘You are next’. I am not standing in front of Physics lab waiting for Mrs. Ganguly to shout my name for the viva and say ‘You are next’. Nor am I waiting for the interviewer to speak out my good name and say ‘You are next’. Not any amongst these. Then what does this phrase imply? Well it implies that you are the one next for marriage! Seriously!

The other day I met my friend, 3 years older to me, on my way to office. I knew her as a lively, energetic, and a passionate girl who became my friend in college. But to my surprise, the only visible shade of color which I could decode from her face at that time was of nervousness, confusion. As a reply to my curiosity, she then put forward an explanation which compelled me to pick up a pen and paper and write this article. She had recently been to her cousin’s wedding and now was the only unmarried woman left in the complete Khanna dynasty. Knowing this fact, every single person of Khanna clan had cast a remark ‘You are next’ which had left her completely restless.  

Since times immemorial (may be!), identifying remaining unmarried girls and boys in the clan is one amongst the thousands of rituals of wedding ceremony taken hold over by innumerable aunts and uncles. These uncles and aunts (in particular) might forget to take their daily Blood-Pressure pills; might forget the way to their homes; might not remember who wore what BUT once identified, they will forget you only after you tie the knot. And if it is not an arranged one, they won’t leave you forever.

Looking at my friend, it is certain that dealing with the family pressure of getting married is a million times more difficult than the work pressure of achieving your targets. First, in most of the cases, you have to decide a person in one or two meetings only. It seems as if you are there to bargain something in the whole-sale market. We want you to spend some 20-25 Lac. Girl should be working but earn lesser than the boy. She should be ready to leave her job, and sacrifice her career anytime after marriage. And if she demands to continue working she should not expect any support for any sort of work from anyone. She will not be able to share her salary with her parents. She should have all the qualities of a good Indian wife even if the boy is a dumb ass. And if you are not for arranged one, then May god be with you! The first step itself is the most difficult one. And once you ‘book’ your life-partner, you will start arranging for money to have a lavish big fat Indian wedding. That money will be put to a major waste and will cost your parents a loan of lifetime. Why not have a simple temple wedding and invest that lavishly wasted money instead to buy a property for yourself or something useful? And if something goes wrong with the decision at first step, your life will become a living hell. You will be left alone singing sad Bollywood songs. Total loss: negation of happiness, wastage of hard-earned money, bereft of solace, and a sad tale to be told for the lifetime.

See the repercussions! But, like every problem, there is a solution to my friend’s tension too. Two factors, wisdom and family support, are of utmost importance in making the most important decision of your life. With love, affection, support and wisdom of family, an enthusiastic girl might not ruin her present in needless worries; decisions taken might not prove disastrous. Marriage as an institution might establish firmly. And above all, life will have its meaning.

Slow living

It is not very often that a statement, a beautiful statement made by a person compels you to think. And of latest the term ‘Slow living’, brought to my notice by my Paulo Coehlo obsessed friend, is stirring me to look for its grave definitions and explanations wherever possible.

And till now, I might have gone through some 10-20 web pages related to ‘Slow living’. I had read about numerous movements in my school history books but nowhere could I find the description of slow movement! Slow living has its origins in Slow movement which began in Italy with the concept of Slow food! Who might have thought that here, on this earth exists the world institute of slowness with the motto ‘everything worth doing is worth doing slowly’? It is totally bizarre to think about the paradox of time, “In order to perform fast you have to be slow’. Hard to bear the fact is that summits by the name of ‘Slow Living Summit’ also take place. And Greg Foyster has embarked on a cycling journey with the ‘Changing Gears’. And we have a slow coffee in this world of instant food! Amazing!

All I knew about slow living till now was some catchy lines like ‘living every moment’, ‘achieve your dreams’, ‘consider life an adventure’, ‘you can win if you think you can’, etc. And I had also watched “3 Idiots” which is against the “Life is a race” phrase. My contemplation about slow living would always take me to this. Since childhood we have been taught, we have seen, and we have observed people running everyday to make it for their lives. They get up at 5, spend their day doing monotonous, moribund chores, eat as much as possible, and lament on their lives becoming melancholy. This process repeats with every passing day and they give a damn to what course their life has taken, whether they have achieved what they wanted, or if they are doing what they admire; let alone the thought of increasing their knowledge be. Charles’ Darwin’s theory of ‘survival of the fittest’ rules this world and they synonym fitness to money. They unconsciously use every single minute of their lives in making money. They constantly worry about their job and thrive to provide a good living to the family.

In all this hustle-bustle of life, they are forgetting to enhance personal, community and environmental well-being. They are perhaps failing to introspect. They are forgetting simplicity in the glitter, glamour, and shimmer of the modern life-style. They are forgetting the requirement of ‘survival of the fittest’ theory: “In order to be efficient, productive, and perform fast, you have to have a peaceful mind and for that you require to be slow”. 

The story of hurt sentiments

Before anyone comes and sues me for hurting their sentiments by copying their idea, I hereby declare that this post is completely my idea, my views, and my thoughts. In short, it is originality at its best!

I also apologize to all whose sentiments will be hurt after reading this post. Who knows I might get arrested by someone because I have hurt their sentiments! After all creating a ruckus and asking others to apologize on the grounds of their ‘sentiments getting hurt’ is the biggest trend these days.

The other day Mr. XingXoXing’s 2 year old son plucked, by mistake, a bright red rose flower from Mr. YingYoYing’s green garden. I am sorry if you find it difficult to pronounce Mr. XingXoXing and Mr. YingYoYing. Yes I could have chosen some easy to pronounce, earthly names like Mr. Chaddha or Mr. Sharma. But then, you see, I do not want to spend my days and nights waiting and being afraid of the moment Mr. Chaddha or Mr. Sharma will come with all the Indian media (I dare not take their names!), sit on fast unto death outside my home, and force me to apologize. So I chose some Chinese or Japanese names. I know these people have lots of important tasks, other than creating a ruckus on their sentiments getting hurt, to do. And that is why, I guess, they are way far developed than India. But I assure you; Mr. XingXoXing and Mr. YingYoYing belong to India. Anyways where was I? Yeah so, our Indian Mr. XingXoXing’s son plucked a rose from Mr. YingYoYing’s garden. YingYoYing, being Indian, went crazy. His deep and out of the world sentiments were hurt. He lodged an FIR against Mr. XingXoXing and then Mr. XingXoXing was forced to apologize face to face and also on twitter (Today’s fashion you know!).

Later when Mr. XingXoXing’s son WingWoWing grew up to be a director, he directed a movie based on some UVUV community in India. He had done complete research on them, had burned the midnight oil and the movie was a result of his months of hard work. Everything was perfect about the movie: story, cast, crew, dialogues, songs, etc. It was sure to do a good business. But just one fault brought down everything. The mistake was: people of UVUV community were shown to be wearing a 3.755 meter cloth in the movie whereas in reality they wear 3.754 meter! Complete 1cm difference! What next? Sentiments of UVUV community were deeply hurt. They lodged nationwide protests and did not allow the movie to be released anywhere in India. Whole of the media went crazy. All of the time slots were booked only to have discussions on this ‘most important’ topic. UVUV people sat on fast unto death and broke their fast only when WingWoWing apologized publicly and of course on twitter! WingWoWing could not bear the insult and left the profession of director.

A few years later when elections were going on in WingWoWing’s locality, another calamity befell upon him. What happened was WingWoWing expressed on facebook that he does not like the pink color of the symbol of the party contesting for elections in his area. Consequence? Volcanic sentiments of the contesting party were hurt. He was arrested, sent to jail for 6 months and forced to apologize on the national TV; needless to say on twitter too.

Time passed by and our WingWoWing turned 75. He had not received his pension for the last 12 months. He went to pension office to collect his meager pension of Rs. 5000. What he got was just Rs. 2000. He complained to senior officials, waited for another one year. No action took place. Now that his justified sentiments were hurt, he decided to do what was done to him. He sat on a fast unto death motion. None of the media highlighted this issue, no action was taken, and he died within four days. Nobody’s sentiments were hurt, no apologies were made and no one mentioned him on twitter.

Shopping with mom

Every Wednesday, I quickly finish my dinner, hurry up to brush my teeth, and get into my green pajamas as soon as possible. I keep two bags and two hundred and fifty rupees ready in my hand. As soon as the silver-grey Titan clock, hanging in my living room two-and-a-half feet above the wooden table which holds the Samsung television, strikes 8:45pm I leave for nearby market along with my mom. It is time now for some weekly shopping in our local Wednesday market.

I do not like shopping but when it is about shopping with mom, I just can’t stop myself! After all, shopping with mom is a great fun. Be it the purchasing of weekly groceries, cosmetic items, some new clothes, a pair of new shoes, good electronic items, interesting books, etc, it is always worth the time. She visits shop after shop and looks over a hundred different varieties before picking up the masterpiece. I sincerely want to learn the way she bargains with the shop keeper and gets 800 Rs bag for 300 only. ‘bhaiyya dekho theek theek laga lo.. ye wala dikhana! Achcha wo wala dikhao to..‘. She bargains with an un-matching flattering skill, keeps on telling me in between why is this good and why on earth is this bad. Why to choose this and why to reject that! Though yes mom, I still do not know the difference between chiffon, cotton, silk, and georgette. And also I do not know how to identify which brinjal is good and which is bad! 

And the moment we get tired of it, then just one plate full of ‘moong-daal-ke-laddoo-with-grated-raddish-and-hare-dhaniye-ki-chutney’ is enough to rejuvenate both of us! They are extremely tasty and simply amazing!

But why do I like shopping only with mom? I guess the answer is not so difficult.

Dad leaves no chance to make the experience as much boring as possible with his I-will-talk-in-a-virtually-non-existent-volume, will-not-argue-with-the-shopkeeper and will-not-stay-at-a-shop-for-more-than-five-minutes attitude! Statistics bear testimony to the fact that of all the things he had purchased on his own, 95% of them were very bad! And I guess all men including my dad have I-feel-embarrassed-in-returning-a-purchased-object-even-though-it-costs-me-millions attitude!

While it is boring to shop with dad, it is a completely different experience to shop with my sister. We would walk at speed of ten steps in a minute, keep on laughing for the whole way, argue at the shop- I want this, you take that- fight with each other and both return empty handed.

So mom! You win clearly!

Get an idea

Every time I sit to write

A brand new post for my own blogger site

The same confusion always holds me tight

Where to start and bring out bright

Moments pass and I do not get

A single thought rattling my intellect

Where, how, when, this and that?

With eyes closed and pen in my turret

A little force I apply on my mind

And surprisingly I do begin to find

Some ideas to shake the mankind

Peep into the future or perhaps rewind

Should I write on ‘one year at office’?

Or should I go for ‘Vancouver to Venice’?

Looking to opt for ‘Virtues and vices’

Of Indian marriage and caste and crisis!

Should I go for ‘Lean in’ by Sheryl Sandberg?

Or should I chose ‘Matrimonial Ads: Aggrawals and Gargs!?

Should I write on ‘how I miss summer vacations’?

Or should I think of ‘women atrocities and chemical castration’?

Should I write on ‘being a robot’?

Or should I describe a ‘witch with a pot’?

Should I imagine myself winning a jackpot?

Or should I consider myself in a desert very hot?

I ask my sister to help me pick up

Any one topic from the list I come up

She ticks out some and suggests me another

“Why don’t you write on Love life and break-up?”

‘Ah! Well you see I cannot explain

Any such moment which I do not sustain

Instead of love life and break-up, here I bargain

Shouldn’t I describe our ‘cities, parks, and fountain’?’

“Then why do you think of ‘Vancouver to Venice’?

When you haven’t been even to Paris!

Forget all this stuff and come play tennis

Or enjoy the weather and go to terrace”

I find her idea good to de-stress

But just as I was leaving, a thought clicks my mistress

Instead of sitting and being aimless

I decide to write on ‘being topic-less!’

Kuch to hai tujh se raabta!

On your demand and my desire, Mittali, this one is for you.

Now that you have left for your MBA, I open my MS Word with moist eyes and begin to write a little bit that I can for you. The very first moment, I find myself unable to think. The next moment, I do not get words and in the third second, I fail to frame sentences. Collision of thoughts fills my mind and it gallops into umpteen magnificent memories which I owe to you and only you.

It is not very often that one comes across a person like you.

A merry-go-lucky by nature, you have the ability to transform a dull environment lively. Doing the last moment revisions in the last compartment of college library was worth the joy where we would laugh more and study less. Eating rajma-chawal in our perennially dark college canteen was worth the time. Standing by my side for continuous 120 minutes, under hot and humid GPO building at Kashmere gate, only to let me post my envelope was worth our friendship. Encouraging me all through my campus interview failures was worth the support. Facing Sunila together was worth the courage!

You are gifted with an uncanny ability to make others smile. It has been five continuous years and you did never forget and never failed to wish me, first amongst all, on my birthdays, at exactly twelve.

You have always been a good companion for all my ‘gtalks’, my gossips, and my sad stories.

I sometimes wonder how do you correctly guess all the times what I feel at the moment even when I write a simple ‘yaar!’ in my messages. You were never sarcastic and always answered my queries even at odd times of the day! You scolded me like a sister, and advised me as a friend. It is only you who knows whom I hate and whom I do not. Most importantly, you were there when I needed a friend the most. The fact that you are not only mine, but my sister’s best friend too says you are family.

From our introductory day of college to eating pasta and shahi-paneer at your home and enjoying at you becoming maasi of two super-cute twin babies, all the moments have been filled with fun and frolic. Be it the moment of getting photocopies of Consumer Electronics’ notes from Banti bhaiya’s photocopy shop at Kashmere gate or the moment I got afraid of your pet dog Snowie when it started following me wherever I went, the journey has been beautiful. The exam times are unforgettable, lunch times undeletable, and gossip times un-disclose-able!

I never expected a best friend in my life, but when God gifted me with one, it was a person with exactly my name! Now that’s a highly uncanny coincidence!

The Taste of India!

This one is for all the gourmets. They are ‘for’ the food, ‘by’ the food, and ‘of’ the food! They think of food; talk of food; and dream of food. In a nutshell, they live for food! And which food will be better than the Indian thali?

The Indian thali- from north to south and east to west- is balanced with spices, health, aroma, and taste. The spices are its strength and the main reason for its taste, aroma, and health. You can prepare hundred varieties of dishes with just the same ingredients.

Here I talk of one variety which I cherish eating a lot- the great Indian chaat aka street food originated in Uttar Pradesh. They are full of spices and the Chinese burger or the Italian pizza and pasta can never beat them! Be it Delhi’s chatpati aalo-chaat, Gujarat’s sweet dhokla, Maharashtra’s vada-pao, Rajasthan’s exquisite daal-bati, or Kerala’s lite sambhar-vada, I enjoy eating all. No confusion in my mind! I have never had any problem with the dahi-bhallas or the theplas, and the khakras. Bhelpuri is easy to prepare and the tastiest of all. No rainy season is complete without pakodas and no breakfast tastier than poha. I love the shape of samosa and the exquisite stuffing in matar-kachaudi. Every chaat corner in Delhi will necessarily have Papadi and tikki - with yummy ‘hare-dhaniye-ki-chuttney’! And I bet no one can deny eating Raj kachori and pav-bhaji. Chole-kulche is the second most favorite Punjabi dish beaten only by everyone’s favorite- Rajma-chawal.

Coco-cola, Pepsi, Thumps up, etc cannot even compete with the desi aam-panna, bel-sharbat, chhaachh, and lassi. They are naturally refreshing and have no side-effects.

See the variety! The Indian food is always delicious and every gourmet’s pleasure. I am already mouth-watered and imagining myself eating gol-guppas- my favorite! 

Reconsider your definition

This one is for all who think I write only one kind of posts on my blog. They call my posts ‘emo’ based. When I ask them for their definition of the word ‘emotional’, they reply that they are full of sadness and grief. My answer to them- kindly reconsider your definition of the word ‘emotional’.

The word ‘emotion’ is extremely diverse. It encompasses all the feelings a human being possesses. I enlist here a few which I can think of in 15 seconds: happiness, excitement, romance, love, hope, peace, confidence, distrust, calmness, imagination, jealousy, revenge, terror, scare, embarrassment, determination, amusement, loneliness, nervousness, motivation, serenity, awe, guilt, hatred, anger, compassion, irritation, and shame. And of course there may be, I am sure, hundreds of others naming which my dictionary fails. See the area occupied by the word ‘emotion’!

So all ‘emo’ based people, kindly update your vocabulary with this new definition of the word emotion.

Something is wrong

Watching television with mummy and rajma-chawal is a great fun. She has got some serials on her list and watches them daily. One fine evening I joined her while I was getting bored. I found them entertaining and my conclusion after watching them for about a month or so is – seriously, something is wrong. Here I list some things that, I find, are wrong with the Indian TV.

1. Same story, different serials! Yes. On comparing some of the TV serials I realized that they have, directly or indirectly, just the same story. Howsoever middle class the family may be they will always have a sprawling house set in the backdrop of either lush green fields of Punjab, or remote areas of Rajasthan, Haryana, or Madhya Pradesh or in the elite societies of Delhi and Mumbai. The female protagonist of the story would be a lively lower middle class girl belonging to some small holy city in India who would value relations more than anything else in this world. The male protagonist of the story would be a mamma’s boy and would hardly get any dialogues to deliver. The mother-in-law would be a homely lady, would be always looking for a suitable match for her dear son, and would shut up the poor father-in-law. The family would be a joint family of some 40-50 members. Of them, the sisters-in-law would be the villains and rest 40-45 members would not be serving any purpose and would be there just to give a feel of the joint family. Male and female protagonists will meet all of a sudden, will fall in love, and then will move forward for marriage which will meet vehement opposition from our custom-ridden mother-in-law. After some 100 episodes of requests, pleas, and tears, our mother-in-law will agree to accept the poor daughter-in-law only to make her life a living hell. And this story would be stretched for an indefinite period of time.

Please! Move out of the saas-bahu concept. Where are serials showcasing working women? We need working mothers-in-law too! We would definitely admire seasons of the same serial rather than it being stretched for 6-7 years. Is anyone listening?

2. Where is originality? Switch to Disney channel. Almost 80% of the serials televised on it are a simple remake of some foreign serials. Adding to the list are some popular TV shows like Indian Idol, Master Chef, etc. They are nothing but Indian remakes of some foreign version. I give them 1 on 5 in comparison.   

3. Flood of award shows! There used to be a time when only IIFA rocked Bollywood and it used to be easy to remember who bagged which award. But today! Today almost every TV channel, and almost every organization related to TV organizes its award show and I DO NOT REMEMBER WHO GOT WHAT!

4. Negativity sells. TV story writers are perhaps masters of human psychology. This is why they know what attracts people the most. Negative news sells the most and so today almost every TV channel has at least one TV serial similar to ‘Crime Patrol’. Beware! Blood is in your hands!

5. Cannot tolerate this comedy! Yes today’s comedy shows which claim to be ‘made for family’ are neither ‘by family’ nor ‘for family’. In fact, they are ‘far’ from the family. The jokes cracked are simply disgusting and most embarrassing. Intolerable!

6. Are reality shows real? My answer- NO! I simply do not find them to be! From episode 1 to the grand finale, every word, every emotion, and every expression is scripted. And who knows even the winner is pre-decided!

7. Wildlife on Discovery. There used to be a time when nuclear science, space science, astronomy, physics, wizards and witches, ghosts, exotic places on the earth, etc ruled the channel Discovery. Every hour would be filled with anxiety and interest. And it was, once upon a time, my favorite TV channel. Now? Now, I hate watching it because I hate watching discovery wildlife.

8. Beep. There are a few TV channels which target young population. Serials broadcasted on them contain highly offensive words which they beep out. However the left out content is still anti-social, abusive, disrespectful, and embarrassing.

The list is growing! And I notice that I have listed enough of the problems. TV serial makers should not forget that TV is the most effective media of communication. It influences each and every sector of society; each and every species of human being. They can be tools of human development or weapons of mass destruction. They can create a society or break it. So they should be extremely cautious before showcasing anything on it.

Childhood games that I used to play

Today is not the Children’s day. Nor is it a day dedicated specially to kids. Today is just a normal 6^th Sunday of the year 2013; same moribund and monotonous Sunday which comes with a periodicity of 7 days. Nothing special about it.

I am lying in my bed waiting for Dispirin to show its effects against my severe head-ache. 10 seconds have passed. No effect yet. I assure myself that in another 10 seconds its effects will be visible; but all in vain. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I hear some bells ringing. They compound my head–ache. Annoyed, I peep through the curtains of my bedside window only to find a man, perhaps in his sixties, selling balloons of various colors- blue, yellow, red, green, purple, white, orange, etc - and significant three dimensional shapes. 8-10 kids probably of 5-6 years surround him with happiness. Instantly I recall my almost forgotten fact – ‘balloons always fascinate me’.

As a kid I would always cherish playing with balloons. Any sort of them would make me happy. My grandfather used to get them for me every alternate day or so. He perhaps knew about my unconditional love for colorful balloons! Thinking of balloons takes me back to my childhood memories. Adrenaline gushes through my blood and look I am there- 8 years old playing with my friends.

I remember we used to play a lot. We had games with almost each and every letter of English alphabet. ‘Aao milo sheelo shalo’, ‘antakshari’, ‘barf pani’, badminton, bingo, corner-corner, chain-chain, carom, doctor-doctor, ‘ghar-ghar’, hide and seek, ‘imli’, ‘jab Miss Mary’, ‘Khul ja sim sim’, ‘kho-kho’, ‘loha-lakkad’, ‘ludo’, ‘name place animal thing’, ‘posam paa’, ‘pithu’, red letter, ‘raja mantri chor sipahi’, snakes and ladders, ‘staapu’, ‘tip-tip-top’, ‘uunch-neech’, etc.

‘Snakes and ladders’ was one of my favorites. I remember how I hated the snake at number 98. For 95% of the times I played snakes and ladders, it took me back to number 2. Very bad snake! And ‘name place animal thing’! I still can’t think of any animal with alphabet ‘X’! I remember some 10-12 years ago TV serial ‘khul ja sim sim’ was a big hit. Such was its craze that every kid in my colony had organized it at his/her place! Next, we used to play chain-chain madly. Our chains would grow longer and longer till it was no more possible for us to run. And ‘tip-tip-top’! I still do not know where to find turquoise, magenta, and cyan. How can I forget carom? It was a tough task making a cover for the queen. ‘Hide and seek’, ‘dog in the bone’ ‘corner-corner’, ‘red letter’, ‘posam paa’, etc were so much fun to play. I still remember the ‘posam paa’ song. How can I fail to mention ‘antakshari’? We would sing for hours. ‘Ghar-ghar’ and ‘doctor-doctor’ played with my friends are still fresh in my memories.

It is five minutes since I had Dispirin. The balloon man rings bells again and I am back in the present. Adrenaline gush is at its peak. And my head-ache is over. I feel rejuvenated all together. Such is the impact of childhood memories! Long live childhood!