Comme Ci, Comme Ca

When I was a little girl…around 4-5 years old, the coming of the rains meant a lot. The monsoons painted a whole new world for me. A world where I could lose myself, where I didn’t need a reason to smile and where I could prance about in my magical shoes that didn’t get wet in the rain. They were the definition of freedom for me. School would re-open soon. I didn’t care about the books but I’d look forward to showing off my brand new umbrella. Yup the green one with pink frogs on it that Mum got for me. I wouldn’t be caught dead with one of those now but back then just the sight of an umbrella like that was enough to make me jump with joy. You’d wonder why I am sharing such embarrassing facts with you…the truth is I’m not embarrassed about my past. Anything but that. I love the fact that I was a total, complete loser. I was happier then and everyone loved me for that. I’m proud of my ex-loserness. No qualms, no worries. Just me and my happiness. I didn’t give a damn about the world then. I think that is what they mean by cool. I didn’t care if my hair was looking all right or if my clothes looked dumpy. As I grew older, my world began to change. I lost the green umbrella and with it the old me…

I wish I’d never changed though. That old me without any inhibitions was way cooler than me now. The rocker me has to be up-to-date with the latest in metal. The little me would’ve proudly sung Backstreet Boys and danced to Shakira ( I’m glad I don’t do that anymore but it used to be fun anyways). Now, I laugh at people who so much as say Nick Carter. The little me had celebrated the fact that he had a younger brother about my age and who looked just like him. Today, I’m nowhere without my weekly allowance. Five years ago I’d beam if someone handed me ten rupees ‘Wow, can I buy anything I want with it?? Even candy??’ When it rains now, all I do is stare out the window and crib that I have to travel on mucky roads and wet trains. As a kid I didn’t have to do much to make people laugh…I’d just wear Dad’s shirt or clumsily drape around Mum’s sari. If I did that now I’m sure it wouldn’t be appreciated much at all. I miss falling and getting bruised and cut. I miss the mickey mouse and donald duck band-aids.

I know it isn’t just me. Everyone changes. It’s called growing up. But although being older is fun, it isn’t as much fun as being a careless kid. I like me as I am but I also like what I used to be. I miss the stoopidity of being a kid. It has something to do with the responsibilities that suddenly come up. Everyone expects you to behave in a certain way when you’re older. ’Be more mature’. And when you try to do that it’s always ‘Act your age’…I’ll never understand that. Why does everything have to be classified now? Cool/uncool. Kickass/wannabe. In/out. Winner/loser. And the annoying habit of analysing people that creeps up as you grow. That kind of shit doesn’t make me want to grow any older. I want to explore the kid within me. I want to be a wagabond again. Please God, let me relive at least one day of my kidhood. Please so that I can know what it is to appreciate the little things in life. I want to wake up, don that school uniform and walk to school…trudging along with Mum and Dad, stopping only to look at snails and pet the dogs on the street…

Those were my randomly penned thoughts on growing-up. Am I being too cynical? Ok perhaps next up I’ll do a li’l something about the kid within us all. I think I’ve made this one too mushy. I admit I cried when I wrote the part about the green umbrella. I did own one and I did lose it. If anyone finds a green umbrella with pink frogs on it please let me know. Reward would be my gratitude and a million dollar smile.  Peace!

I have weird neighbours. Maybe I deserve them. But I have to admit life just wouldn’t be the same without them. I’ve never had to look far for good entertainment because entertainment is right in my neighbourhood. Entertainment is my neighbourhood.

First of all, my favourite member in the neighbour family - the kid. Let’s just call her - the kid. The kid needs no topic to start a conversation. She’s more a follower of flavour of the day. Everytime she drops in, she carefully zeroes in on one particular item that appeals to her imagination. And That’s it! Voila! She’s got herself a muse. The rest of her visit would revovle around that item. It could be a vegetable, a fruit, maybe a cartoon character. I vividly remember one day when I came home from school and was appalled to hear my neighbour kid screaming ‘chota batata’ in a sing-song voice. My mom said ‘Don’t worry. It’s only because she’s spotted some baby potatoes in the kitchen.’ I was considerably relieved. But only considerably. True story. For many weeks thereafter my nights were disturbed by terrible nightmares where the kid would scream in the same annoying sing-song voice. Each time a different vegetable…’bada capsicum’, ‘mota cabbage’, ‘lamba beans’ and the likes..However she still remains my favourite. Like they say, there are some things that you just can’t explain…

The other family members are the kid’s mom, dad, grandma and grandpa. Let’s call them kid’s mom, kid’s dad, grandma and grandpa respectively. Now, the grandpa can never tell the difference between my sister and me. On one occassion, about two years ago he met my sister in the lift and asked with a lot of concern ‘9th standard bahut tough hoga na?’ My sis was doing her third year of degree college back then but she just nodded and got off the lift knowing it wouldn’t make a difference.

The grandma is a sweetheart and isn’t too weird (no, not only because she shares the awesome sweets that she makes) The kid’s mom and dad are really serious people. The dad only politely smiles and is happy to not make conversation of any sort. The mom doesn’t think it necessary to even politely smile. The time I have maximum interaction with my neighbours is when I’m locked outside my house without the house keys. Then I have to wait at my neighbour’s house till Mom comes and ‘rescues’ me. This sitation has come about 4-5 times but the scene everytime is hardly different. Allow me to describe it for you..

(I knock loudly on my home’s door. No one answers even though I’ve tried 2-3 times. I frantically search my bag hoping to find the keys I never put in there. It doesn’t help)

ME: Damn. There’s no way out. I have to do this. *gulp* (I ring the neighbour’s doorbell)

(door is opened by the grandpa)

ME: Aa..Aapke paas mummy ne cha..chaabi diya?

THE GRANDPA: (after a few minutes) Chaabi? Nahi.

ME: Oh (contemplating if I should say thanks and run and wait in the garden or something) Toh…Nahi diya..Oh (sad face)

THE GRANDPA: Aao. Andar aake ruko. Mummy aayegi.

ME: (nervous laugh/croak)

(I walk in and take a seat. I smile at the grandma and the kid, the only other people home)

THE GRANDMA: Mummy paas me hi kahi gayi hogi. Aa jayegi.

ME: haan hehe

THE GRANDPA: Chaabi lekar jaana chahiye. Mummy ne toh nahi diya.

ME: Haan. (So maybe i SHOULD run and wait in the garden..)

THE GRANDPA: Tum kaunse college me ho?

ME: RUIA. (I must’ve told him this at least 10 times previously.)

THE GRANDPA: Oh ruia achcha college hai. Main bhi matunga ke Khalsa college me tha. You know?

ME: (yeah i know! boy do i know? he’s told me what 20 times??) Haan.

(Then the consistently random coversation ensues about his college days, his trip to london, his love for some game called bridge and his achievements and those of his family, relatives, friends…I wonder if he practises this conversation)

ME: (saying a little prayer inside) Oh…haan..haha…ok

(enter the kid)

THE KID: Mee aaj navin rhyme shikla. *annoying sing-song voice* Laxman chacha had a farm eeah-eeah-oh. and on the farm he…

ME: (may Old mac donald’s soul rest in peace.) Laxman chacha??? Khup changla aahe. Eeah-eeah-aaaarrghhh

An hour and a cup of tea later, I hear a noise outside.

ME: shaayad mummy aa gayi!!

THE GRANDMA: Dekhti hoon (opens the door) Haan mummy aa gayi. hehe

ME: (YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!) Thanks. Chai bahut achchi thi. Bye (running home)

My neighbours are helpful and everything and I like them. But I’d rather I don’t have to spend more than a few minutes talking to them for the benefit of my brain! Damn!

P.S: I know this wasn’t an all-too-great but it’s close to my heart. Had to share it with y’all! Cheers!