Tuesday, May 18, 2004

Dad ain’t a politician or an Indian cricketer

On any given morning, the happiest thing I love to do is put off the alarm and go back to sleep. I was following this ritual religiously the past few days when suddenly my friend called and woke me up at 6 O’clock sharp.

Me and my big mouth! I had promised to accompany her to jog in the morning. The reason for her interest too is simple; she bought a new Adidas shoes and wanted to make good use of it. Well, my sneakers were staked in some corner somewhere as it had started laughing (read torn) and I had to make do with my floaters.

It was a damn good feeling to have the winds kissing our faces, the whiff of fresh air doing its conversation with the nose. Our path was laden with flower petals that had befallen the previous evening through the morning. Felt like a princess but a sudden melancholy overcame me thinking that such beautiful things also have an ending and would be swept away after sometime.

We decided to increase our pace slowly everyday and walked instead of jogging though experience tells me that day would never come. This extremely good thing that we started today would last at the most a week as always. You can never straighten a dog’s tail. Fat people jog to be slim, slim people to remain slim. I guess for me, it would be to grow tall :) We walked and talked and talked and walk all the way passing through an array of lovely houses.

My friend pointed out a particular house and I said, ‘ok, it’s your b’day gift from my side.’ Hearing this she started word play and pointed another beautiful house and said,’ My in-laws’, I replied,’ My servant’s quarter’ and ran. We were laughing and kicking each other when suddenly from the opposite side this hunk comes jogging. We behave suddenly. With x-rated vision we scanned him up and down. Umm! Good eye tonic early in the morning. Hot as ice! Around 5’11’’, tall for me, ok for my friend.

I just took her wrist and saw the time, 6.45am. We pledged to reach this place tomorrow at the same time and turned back. I don’t wear a watch nor does Enrique Iglesias. His pet’s name is Grammy or Oscar. Mine are Snoopy and Sentry. I don’t mark time. Time will mark me. I don’t know about him. I flushed my last watch. It was by mistake. Dad ain’t a politician or an Indian cricketer!!!


Anonymous said...

Naaaaa..Not impressive.
I thought you started off writing quite brilliantly...but i guess that fire has died.

Get some more interesting topics rather than writing about some 5'11'' hung....

Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed it, so keep going. Somebody must be J