The Wonderless years (Part I)
Wednesday, 9. April 2008, 14:19:01
It was on a cold October morning that I was born in a small nursing home in Bangalore. It is also probably the only time I got up before 8’0 clock.
In the next few months, I proved to be a noisy, messy kid (Nothing has changed). In no time at all, my antics became a fun dinner table conversation for everyone, except mom. I had the nasty habit of defecating at awkward times – breakfasts, lunches, dinners, functions, temple visits or when a guest came home. This would explain mom’s great displeasure. This is why the mood was jubilant when I got potty trained. What a relief!, they exclaimed.
It also is interesting to note that I learnt to operate the TV much before I learnt to speak.
Every kid goes around banging spatula and vessel. So did I. Except in my case it was always in the dead of the night, usually at around 3:00 when everyone is at his or her crabbiest. I was a nocturnal creature, and that irritated everyone quite a bit.
I was a weird kid with a big imagination. There were drawings on the wall, strange neighbourhood creatures in the living room, broken glass badly hidden underneath mats and books being thrown out of the window to hit a genial passerby. All this was attributed to me. I was being called the junior ‘Saddam Hussein’, a title that is constantly being stirred up even in recent family reunions.
There is one particular incident which had people believing that I was possessed. It happened way back in the early 90’s i.e. when I was about four. Before I proceed, I must tell the reader that I have no recollection of the incident. So the following story is as recounted by my grand-mom.
At four ‘o Clock A.M, everyone in the house had gotten up and were ready to attend my cousin’s thread ceremony in Tirupati, which is about a 10 hour drive from the house in Chennai. Everyone was ready except me. I was in no mood to get up that early. A half an hour later, my g’mom swear she hears screams (like a dying banshee, she exclaims with great delight!). She rushes into my room to find my arms grabbing hold to the bed post and four uncles pulling my legs. She reckons I grew 2 inches that day. Eventually they did succeed in lifting me to the van (after I delayed the entire entourage by about an hour). But I did get sweet payback for waking me up that early. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold. In my case, it was 10 hours of kicking and screaming.
Even now, during those ‘gosh darned’ family gatherings there is someone or the other recounting this incident and my many other escapades. But I can assure you that it took them a long time to recount this incident in a lighter vein.
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WIDGETIZE