My daily routine is something like this. Wake up in the morning, or is it shaken out of bed by my mother's screams. This is if my cats have not walked all over me and jumped on head. I trundle out of bed to the basin to wash up. While brushing me teeth, I try to catch the headlines, the only time of day I can.
Then I have a race with my 3 cats on who will go to the bathroom first. Yes, my cats are toilet trained. No, I did not train them. They sought of trained themselves, though sometimes Neville (the eldest and the only bobcat of the lot. How was the name reached is another long story. Maybe I can share it some other time) Most of the time I come out the loser in these contests. And even if and when I win, they have 1 major advantage, the threat of piddling in other places in the house. Mummy will have none of that, so I have to surrender the territory for some time to them. They need the bathroom clean or else they will complain to my mother. After each one has done his or her job, the place has to be cleaned with the water spray, pouring water will not do. There is an inspection done by them, only once they are satisfied, will they leave, and the other get ready to do her job. Can be called a cleanliness freaks these cats of mine. Only when all of them have finished their morning duty will I get a chance to have my beauty bath.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Good Bye dear Friend
Yesterday I got some really disturbing news. A former neighbour passed away in a car accident. Details are fuzzy, but all the news is that there were 2 kids in a car and now 1 is dead. The tragedy is that this guy was just about to enter college life and was in the prime of his life. A smart kid who showed a lot of promise.
We used to play cricket and football together before his family moved out of the building. He wanted to be the best at what he played whether cricket, football or the indoor games like pool and the favourite PS2 games. Sad at cricket, but a fan none the less. He was pretty good at football, even though the bigger guys like me used to bully him to give the ball away. I believe he called himself either Christiano Ronaldo or Ronaldinho. Coming to think of it was not too long ago. Maybe just 5 years ago, when we all would go to the backside and play for a few hours, me to take out my frustration of college and home, the rest , well, because they were school kids who wanted to have fun. I can still remember him trundling along compound to play in his long Bermudas, ball in one hand and his Granny running after him with a glass of milk
Some of us Big guys would call him voice box... forever having an opinion and forever crying about the bullying he received. Sometimes we went too far in our bullying, sometimes he over exaggerated our bullying. His sense of humour and timing were impeccable and he got into a lot of trouble because of it. But his cute smile would usually get him out of the worst troubles.
After his family moved out, we would meet a few times. But that changed after I started working. I lost complete touch of him. Last I heard was that he had gone to boarding. I guess that’s where he made his new batch of friends with whom he went out on Saturday night. Always a bit of a show off, I can’t help but remember how he would talk about his new gadgets and PS2 at the time when playstations were still being sold in here. A boy who in the 6th grade knew what he wanted and how he wanted it.
But in the building we were one big group of friends, with all the “Masti” and fun a person could have.
Good bye dude... all I can say is that you have gone to a better place.
We used to play cricket and football together before his family moved out of the building. He wanted to be the best at what he played whether cricket, football or the indoor games like pool and the favourite PS2 games. Sad at cricket, but a fan none the less. He was pretty good at football, even though the bigger guys like me used to bully him to give the ball away. I believe he called himself either Christiano Ronaldo or Ronaldinho. Coming to think of it was not too long ago. Maybe just 5 years ago, when we all would go to the backside and play for a few hours, me to take out my frustration of college and home, the rest , well, because they were school kids who wanted to have fun. I can still remember him trundling along compound to play in his long Bermudas, ball in one hand and his Granny running after him with a glass of milk
Some of us Big guys would call him voice box... forever having an opinion and forever crying about the bullying he received. Sometimes we went too far in our bullying, sometimes he over exaggerated our bullying. His sense of humour and timing were impeccable and he got into a lot of trouble because of it. But his cute smile would usually get him out of the worst troubles.
After his family moved out, we would meet a few times. But that changed after I started working. I lost complete touch of him. Last I heard was that he had gone to boarding. I guess that’s where he made his new batch of friends with whom he went out on Saturday night. Always a bit of a show off, I can’t help but remember how he would talk about his new gadgets and PS2 at the time when playstations were still being sold in here. A boy who in the 6th grade knew what he wanted and how he wanted it.
But in the building we were one big group of friends, with all the “Masti” and fun a person could have.
Good bye dude... all I can say is that you have gone to a better place.
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