A futile Trip
I would have chosen Economic Times given a choice, but since my second cousin is with express publications, he arranged IE and Dinamani for free. Peter Vidal in IE warned about travel plans and communications plans to the fore, but the world is not going to end if few plans would be delayed. Out of curiousity, I wanted to check what astrogyan had to say at 9 pm (after my futile trip) in its daily predictions and it too mentioned futile journeys. Of course, 90% of the days, daily predictions would be ridiculous at the worst, amusing at the best.
Well here is the saga.
I woke up this morning, still feeling groggy after going through Magsaysay awardees till late in the night yes’day night or should I say, early this morning. Out of habit, I just picked up the paper, cruised through and found one engagement really alluring. So I set forth, without a second thought, to the spot in the hot scorching afternoon. The wind was so fierce that I could not manage my lavendar umbrella with the gusts of wind, with my jittery aching right leg. Many a times, I folded the umbrella and unfolded it once the wind force dropped. After more than 30 mins of walking I reached the venue. I found no posters, but yes, the program direction indicator was there. I found the concerned Department after asking one girl and found no signs of any talks going on there. I asked the office and found that the talk had got over just the day before. I was furious - one printing mistake and !@#@$. For the first time, I had boarded a bus, all alone, and didn’t even carry any support, walked all the way from busstop. Now in the evening, I can’t even take another step.
Locked Out Back Home
I boarded an auto on the way back and took another bus and reached home without much ado just to find the door locked. We have only one key, and the other key is with my uncle, who visits whenever mom summons him for some bureaucratic chores.
I sat on the mango tree swing and tried to read Macroeconomics, but I badly wanted to stretch my feet and relax. The opposite door was locked. So I went to SK’s house, since it too was on the ground floor, and M opened the door. He said, I could go up and stay with the first floor aunty. But I didn’t want to climb up stairs and walked back to the backyard and sat on the swing. He joined me at the backyard and got me a white plastic bag full of jackfruits and water bottle, snatching out my book and bag, stating he would return them, only if I ate jackfruits. He picked up the mangoes that had fallen on the ground. Just that afternoon, he had dumped a big whole jackfruit and given another plastic bag of peeled jackfruits.
I learnt he had planted 2 of the plantain saplings along with others in our backyard. I learnt that he had cut his own left arm creating a big cross mark scar. I really wonder how teenagers could cut themselves; I can't even stand being pinched. After some vetti philosophy mokkais, he called out his playmates 8th std Sai and later 9th std Tahera Thasneem to play cricket. I learnt the meaning of 2 arabic names. He chose cricket because, I said no to shuttlecock. I just watched in mute helplessness, as they stepped over vettiveru, adathoda and small curry leaves and planted the cricket stumps. The soft ball narrowly missed me twice. There was a tiny brat Rajan half my height, who was hounding Tahera with a bat and stumps. And Tahera despite her size was fleeing away.
I learnt that bubbly Tahera had come home to pick up few clothes and that she was going back to hospital to meet her family members who were all admitted after an Indica-Lorry accident in Karur while returning from Ooty summer trip. As usual the lorry driver fled away. Thank god they had insurance and they were all alive. Other injury details are better left unsaid. Am glad at least she was spared and her eyebrow scars would disappear soon considering her young age. They had been admitted for 10 days and it would take 1 more week to get discharged it seems.
Thank God mom came home within 1.5 hours of waiting. Once the doors opened, I just dragged T inside and gave her mosambi juice, helped her with mail and facebook (wrong time) and bid her good bye. As I was still standing near the door watching her go, she turned back after a while and waved her hand. She was really cute, fresh as a daisy, so young, (17 years younger than me) a real child-woman, voluptuous in her clinging attire. I completely forgot about M and his playmates in the backyard. Yet neighbours as always. These days, I like solitude, and I don’t mind company. There were days when it was opposite.