~ The Boy Got Big ~

To be exact its 11:42:32 Sunday nite, Many of us might have already slept with an odium for monday. Inspite of sounding like Mr. Flaunt i take the risk of saying " I love Mondays" . Monday is the only day that compels me to think i haven't achieved what i am made for. Monday evenings are the best for Vinay's life.


Neways coming back to 11:44:40 .....

When love for myself boils , i grab my pencil and start serving the blog its like a date with myself ...I dating Me... ( Its too thoughful for you moron..)

With love for myself and the burden of "Not so intense last 3 posts" , i tried to find an idea that would act as a sledge hammer for my critics.

My eyes fell onto a britannia bread resting on table like a 12th man does at pavillion ..." Useless But Usefull "

That bread took me to 1987's Sunday..


----A "little" boy begging his ma to let him go to the market alone.
The boy wanted to be tagged as "Big".

--> Ma Agreed
--> Boy geared up for market.. 5 rupee note , blue bag and some instructions from ma seemed enough.

Rule 1: Don't talk to strangers.
Rule 2: No Eye contacts.
Rule 3: Money in pocket..

But Ma missed something ....?


The mission started....

Left pocket had 5 rs. ,those were supposed to make me "Big" that day. So my hand was stuck in my pocket all the time..

No eye contact,no smiles,no talks as per the contract.

Hey Rum..!......Raje....!! Oye...pagal.! Radhe Shyaam.

I had heard something like that on my way but concentration of my self talk was enough to discount those.


I reached the " Sham Confectioners ".


May be Sham : Why alone today ?

Me : Give Me Bread..

M b S :Wheres your Ma ?

Me :Give me bread..

M b S : Any other..

Me : Give me bread..

Things exchanged....Now i had a rupee and the "Bread"..

I held the bread like a bangladeshi holding a check after winning a cricket match.


Tough fraction of the mission started.

Every other creature on the solar system seemed to be after my bread.I hated , complained, regretted,cursed on my way back.The Scene was nothing less than Pearl Harbour-2..


I reached home.


Though i had completed the task yet the feeling of "Bigness wasnt there". Then i tried to summon up those voices i heard on my way.

"Hey Rum"------it was Smita auntie.. the woman in pink nightie always and with whom i planned to marry but it was decided i wont bulldoze my kids in my school...Teachers were real slayers and i would donate my knickers to her after marriage,She always wore pink...Eeeeeeeh!! but still i was ready for conciliation.


"Raje"--------- Sudaama , our milkman , ohh.. i forgot to pump his cycle's horn..I loved to see the color change of his face with each pump.....


" Oye Pagal "------ It was mona ...Only girl i think was ready to marry me anytime , no not because of me.... she loved my Ma, she knew she won't be a nagging Saas.


"Radhe - Radhe" --------- it was sharma uncle....kirtans always came as freebies with this man. but his Amrish puri Eyes always told me they yearn for Baywatch.. were always waiting for ' home alone ' .

............

Gawd ! I failed to discern the Mona's trapping smile,Sudaama's Red Face, Smita's Nightie,Sharma's Amrish puri Eyes, flowers shining at me,doggies play, tomfoolery of air, Smirky Sun..and my touch...


I stared at my Ma..for minutes ...both of us didn't say anything as though tête-à-tête between our eyes was enough....I felt her eyes saying me " I forgot to tell you ' Don't Sell your life for Bread' "..... some lessons in life can't be taught they have to be lived.

...
I knew..........
I had forgot the Balance...........Balance between a song and the silence, balance between a cry and a laugh, balance between light and the dark, balance between sweet and sour , balance between "a" life and "the" bread......


" Ma , Can I go to buy butter ? ".--------The Big boy said.....




The boy certainly had got Big.