Walk Down Memory Lane

Recently, I was walking by Mota Arcade (I think that’s the name) at Brigade road, and I was struck by a memory of the first time I had been there as a 6-year-old, and how excited I was to step on the escalators there. I think the excitement was less about the escalator, and more about the novelty of the whole experience. That incident took me down memory lane, and I started reminiscing about several of the things that have now become a routine part of my life, but at some point, when they were first introduced, had been such a source of joy.

Here are some of the memories in that list:

• The first time I stepped on an escalator (and took several seconds to successfully land on that first step)
• The first time I ran in the opposite direction of the escalator (and jumped triumphantly on to the other end)
• The first time I went in an elevator (and looked out of the glass doors on the other end, where I could nervously see myself go up)
• The first time I pushed around a shopping cart (initially, my brother and I fought for a chance to push it around. Soon we were fighting to give it to the other person)
• The first time I used a vacuum cleaner to clean the house (and also the last, as the enthusiasm waned, leaving only the chore behind)
• The first time I sat on a plane (and was disappointed to find out that it wasn’t as big as a train)
• The first time I saw a computer (how many of you remember that?)
• The first time I typed a letter on Microsoft Word (and was horrified to realize that hours of laborious typing had only yielded four lines on the printout)
• The first time I was introduced to the internet (and was worried about where we would place it, because the computer table was already filled with the monitor, CPU, keyboard, mouse and printer)
• The first time I saw a multi-storey building (and by multi-storey, I mean over 3 floors) which marked that we would soon be reaching Delhi
• The first time I saw a handset phone (and thought it was incredibly cool, because now I wasn’t confined to one spot in the house)
• The first time I saw a person talking on a mobile phone (and thought that people looked too weird walking around with their hands on their ears)
• The first time I went to a mall (which, I don’t think it qualifies as a mall anymore)
• The first time I saw snow (and spent the remaining vacation locked in a hotel room due to a ‘stomach pain’ *truth was I was just too cold*)

There are several other things I wish I remember, like my first train ride, the first time I jumped into the sea waves, the first time I went to the movie theatre, and many more…but I guess memory lane can only dig out so much.

Rain Dance - Part 2

Two years ago, at Teach for India’s training institute in Pune, I found myself in the middle of a rain dance [see:  Rain Dance] with a bunch of strangers who were enroute to becoming friends. Today, in a completely different part of the country, I found myself in a very familiar situation.

 *****

It’s funny. I was sitting at the steps, watching some of the guys play football, and thinking to myself that I really wanted to join them. But I was held back partly by my own lack of knowing-how-to-kick-a-ball, and largely by my inhibitions.

Never thought I'd actually end up playing.

*****

It was a Friday afternoon

Classes were over

The laziness was engulfing

The wind refreshing

The weekend inviting

Conversations relaxed

The football game, entertaining

The sky was dark

So dark, that
It was hard to tell it was still afternoon
We knew it was coming
After all, it’s Bangalore
It rains all the time
Usually for a few seconds
And if it so decides
Then for a few minutes
A few droplets here and there
 
But today, the sky was dark
The clouds were rolling in
One after the other
Leaving you wondering
Just when they would let go
But they didn’t
They just seemed to pass by
Or maybe
They were gathering reinforcements

Because the moment did come

Not with a few trickles falling down your cheeks
But with heavy drops
Enough to clear the basketball court
Enough to push a surge of people
To the safety of indoors
And enough
To push me in the opposite direction

I have no idea why I did it

But standing in that cramped room
Watching the rain come down in a frenzy
I just knew that the place I wanted to be
Was on the other side of the doors

So just this once

I decided not to care
About the fever
About hypothermia
About the incredulous stares

And stepping out

I could feel every drop drench my clothes
The wind smattering me in the face
Shoes quickly filling with water
The cold numbing my ears
A smile on my face that refused to leave
Excitement that I hadn’t realized was there
Surrounded by half a dozen friends
Friends, as crazy as myself
And most importantly
With a football in my hand

And I kicked it

(Incorrectly, as I was later informed)
And we ran
And we jumped
And we sang
And we yelled
And we fell
And we froze
And in those few moments
I felt so alive
Playing football
On a basketball court
In the rain

It felt great
Knowing, that

The rain dance

Was back again
 

A Purple Lollipop

So in an attempt to overcome my perpetual writer's block, I've enrolled in a creative writing class in college. So, chances are, my next few posts are going to be mainly fiction. This particular one was a paragraph written around the prompt "A purple lollipop".

The mission was simple: get to the target before the enemy. As his eyes surveyed the corridor, he found several candidates that potentially matched the enemy description. But he wasn’t too worried, because his keen and experienced eyes had already locked upon the target. It was lying innocently on the ground, as though just waiting to be stepped on by an oblivious person in the crowd. Luckily, such a catastrophe had been avoided thus far, but he knew better than to count on luck. He carefully made his way towards the target, ignoring the glare of the sun reflecting off its surface. Almost there, he thought to himself. Stopping less than a foot away, he bent down slowly to pick it up, trying not to attract attention. Just as his fingers were inches away from their target, he felt the earth shift from under his feet and found himself in a firm hold in the air. “Calvin, how many times have I told you not to pick up food from the ground!” shouted the voice that resembled his mom’s, and before he could protest, he saw a hand swoop down, pick up the purple lollipop, and throw it into the nearest bin.

Inspired from my slowly-becoming-favourite character of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes :)