MY ATHLETIC SIDE!

I'm a good athlete according to me and my physical education teacher. Due to that my teacher short-listed me for the under seventeen inter-school category. Every athlete who is short-listed(all the athletes are still short-listed)has to undergo a tiring, but useful training. It takes place everyday after school. The training requires a lot of time to get adapted to and therefore requires utmost attention and hard work. Well, for me, it is 'so far, so good'.

It actually started with a normal physical education class where we were graded for our running skills. I got good grades despite being terribly sick that day. I had a terrible head-ache that I hadn't felt in the morning, before going to school. Even after sensing it, I thought I would stay put in class as I thought that my head-ache would fade away gradually. The school clinic could be used for better things. I refrained from telling any of my friends or teachers about the ache. Even though my head-ache was getting severe, I gathered up courage to follow my friends to the field and get my grading done, at the earliest. I ran well, even though it was only a sixty metre race. The teacher praised me and some other boys in class. He was more than happy to have so many choices in his athletic club. Little did he know that all the boys apart from me had to be present in other coaching activities, that would therefore reduce his team members.

That day, I came home and puked, I seriously don't know why, as I had no stomach-ache. No one was at home, so I checked my temperature by myself and found out that I had fever. I contacted my dad, who contacted my mom, who took me to the doctor, despite my refusal. In the end it turned out to be only a minor fever. So much for going to the doctor.

The year I joined ninth grade, my ex-physical education teacher came to tell us about the coaching. He told me to take it very seriously. I knew I had to take it seriously, but just for the sake of reminding, you know how the human mind functions, full of thoughts and memory. It is so complicated. Besides,

'How will there be mystery?

How will there be science?

If everything said and done in history,

Is known to mankind!

                                                                                -adapted from a poem by K
                                                      himself 

The first day of the coaching, I missed due to my prefect interview, which turned out to be a flop. My so called House Master fired me with questions I failed to answer quickly and properly. I wished I had been called instead of my friend earlier, who was asked questions, I was prepared to answer in a jiffy. My ex- P.E(physical education)teacher was annoyed, but he wasn't enraged. He excused me for the day. After all, he had to!

The next day however, I didn't fail to attend my coaching class. It took some time to start, as the coaching teachers waited for a while so that we could rest and conserve our energy. After it started though, there was no stopping. He made us jog around a football(soccer)field five times, so that we were warmed up. I was a beginner then and therefore, I struggled a bit. I've got used to it now, but now and then are two completely different stories. My shin ached the most, but yet I tried to ensue. The best part was that I had forgotten my sports shoes. I tried to drag away my thoughts, but alas, the warm up was all about concentrating. The pain came up to my thighs later. After the completion of the five rounds, we were asked to stride. It means that, we should run with sixty percent speed on one side of the field and walk on the other. After two rounds of striding, guess what!

"Please do not sit or drink water, form a semi-circle!", my ex-P.E teacher shouted, and we obeyed. He was planning to make us do some stretching and rotating exercises. He kept showing us the exercises, and also told us the number of times it had to be repeated. We did as we were told. The exercises were pretty easy to perform, but it was hard to focus with the leg-ache. Our arms were aching too, due to its continous movement. After the so called rotating exercises, in which we were supposed to rotate our legs and hands from here to there he asked to stride once more. This time only on one side of the field. After walking back, we were asked to do the stretching exercises. All the exercises were like dance movements. We were asked to stretch and touch our toes and so on.

It was a relief when he asked us to take a sip of water and move around, so that we don't get to complete rest mode and make our aches worse than it is. Some boys dis-obeyed and drank water as if they were seeing it for the first time. I had no problems, as I wasn't a great fan of water, whether thirsty or not.

Next he asked us to do some knee-driving exercises, first on the spot, and then by moving from one place to another. It would be hard to describe, but we had to lift one knee up stretch the other leg, and keep shifting the leg. It was more tiring as our chest could hardly suck in air because of the speed, and also our chest was involved in the exercise, as it kept contracting and relaxing during the exercise. We were breathing anaerobically then. This anaerobic respiration lasted for more than five minutes. It took lots of time to catch our breath.

He asked to repeat the exercise three to four times. After the tiring exercise, we were asked to come close to the school bus area entrance stairs. He made us do something called as step up(definitely not street dance). We were supposed to climb up and down one particular step with both our feet. That is one foot up and the other foot down and then both the feet up and the other foot down and so on. We were asked to do it at maximum pace. After repeating it once again, we were asked to do split jumps on the stairs itself. We repeated that twice. 

Then he asked us to do the abdominals(or the crunchs)twenty five times. Then the push-ups also the same number of times. After the procedure, we were asked to walk around the football field for three rounds and then wind up. During the long walk, the pain in our legs started becoming less and the pain in the thighs ceased to exist. This time I could do a bit of day dreaming and I kept thinking about the amount of homework I had to do after getting home. I was enraged to know that there were lots. As usual, I'm always unlucky.

Hasta la Vista,

K 

FIVE DAYS IN A FILTHY TRAIN!

I was in Kerala. 'God's own country' as they say it. The greenery was just beautiful. It was amazing. There were all kinds of trees and rare plants. The touch-me-not was amusing and delicate. Six years and seven months ago, I was just seven years old. I loved the beauty, but definitely hated the creepy crawlies which came along with it. Even grasshoppers used to frighten me. Bees were common, and I just hated them. I have never got stung by one, but their legs and wings were as scary as jumping from Burj Khalifa. They looked like professional killers.

It was the monsoon season in India. All states except Tamil Nadu were affected by these heavy rains. I had to travel(with parents of course)to Bombay. My father wanted to travel by a train and we followed his choice. We arrived at the station quite early. We waited for thirty minutes before the train arrived. It usually took only a day and a half by train to reach Bombay. I was glad that I didn't have to sit in a filthy train for more than a day. Well, of course, the scenery outside the windows of the train is beautiful, the inside was the big problem. The station especially was full of rats and lizards, my mother's worst enemies. The lizards were busy searching for flies to eat, which was there in abundance.

We entered the train casually. My father lifted all the bags to the seats we occupied. He wouldn't expect a woman or a seven year old boy to lift it for him. At last we arrived at our seats. My great uncle joined us for this journey too. The air-conditioning hadn't started yet as the train was yet to be joined to the engine. We were sweating terribly. After what seemed like an hour, the train finally started moving.

In the train there was nothing much to do, but read a book or stare out of a window. I did both. Of course, I didn't read Stephen King or Eoin Colfer then. I stuck to Enid Blyton's short stories. I liked one story about a brother and sister who had to take a bus home. There was an old lady who couldn't enter the bus as there was only one seat remaining. The brother decided to give up the bus for the old lady and go walking to his house. In the end his family doctor, found him walking and gave him a lift home. The sister was surprised to see the brother home early. After she understood what had happened she gave him a packet of chocolate, which she said was given by that old lady who was grateful to him. I enjoyed Blyton's stories. I also enjoyed sitting by the window and watching outside. The scenery was amazing.

Early morning the next day, we were at Goa, a state in the South. Due to the rain, the train stopped there for quite sometime. The tracks were filled with water. I was fast asleep, as I didn't believe in getting up early, until and unless there was school. In the morning we were still at Goa and train staff were roaming around with breakfast. I had good(not great)meal. I am a great fan of banana fries which is a traditional Keralite dish. That was one thing that I would never miss while I was in the South. I drank my cup of coffee and waited for the train to move. After sometime the station master or whatever you call him, came to us and announced that due to the floods, the train  would be going back to Kerala and coming by a separate route. Everyone was unhappy. Nobody wanted to stay in the filthy train for more than a day. My father was an exception. We definitely couldn't take a bath as the train had no proper shower room. We were stinking due to the dampness and the unhygienic maintenance of the train. The train went reverse in full speed and people could hardly stand on their feet. It stopped at no station in between and we were heading straight to Kerala.

I brushed my teeth with great difficulty because of the pace the train was moving in. I could barely stand and it was hard to turn on the tap and wash the brush and then wash your mouth. It was vexing. Finally I was able get back to my seat. I observed the scenery outside and knew that we were heading back to Kerala due to the greenery. I frowned. I was bored, so I went for a stroll, despite the speed of the train. I saw some frowns on the faces of the people in other seats. I came to one seat where there was a man, wearing a sumptous watch. He had a baby in his lap. He was playing with the baby. The baby's mother was sitting right beside him. She was playing with the baby too. The baby, I noticed was a girl. She was five-six months old. She was happily laughing at her father's and mother's funny faces. Looking at their faces, I couldn't help but chuckle. The father caught my sight. I began to leave, but he stopped me by greeting me. I greeted him in return.

My great uncle came searching for me. By the time I was happily talking to the baby's father and mother. My uncle greeted them and they did the same. Do not talk to strangers was a not a big rule in a train. Especially with a man who has a family. My uncle asked me to go get his watch and also summon my father while I was at it. The baby's father and my uncle were deep in conversation by the time I got there with my father. My father wasn't much of speaker, like me. He always waited for somebody else to start the conversation. The baby was fast a sleep in her mother's lap. I walked away and left the adults to their conversation.

I got back to my Enid Blyton book. After sometime it was time for lunch. My uncle and father were still busy in their conversation. My mother was busy laying out the plates. After sometime my father and great uncle arrived. After a quick meal I got back to my book. It only had about a hundred pages, but I was a slow reader then. After a good read I went to join the baby and her family. They greeted me with delight. The baby was awake. She was playing and chewing on her toys. Her mother kept stopping her from chewing her toys, but she, as all babies, was adamant. Her father kept asking me questions about my school. He also asked me how I found it in the Middle East. I replied that I found it to be pleasant.

By evening, the train had reached Kerala to change its engine. I sighed to see Kerala again. Not that it was unpleasant, it was just that the train journey was longer. I thought that, my friends would be enjoying their summer vacation, while I'm sitting in this damn train full of adults. The only two people who weren't adults were me and the baby. Of course I could play a bit with the baby, which I did, but apart from that I had no clue about what I was going to do. My book was nearing the end, and the scenery would be blinded due to the night. The evening was getting darker and darker and we were supposed to be in Bombay, if it weren't to be that stupid rain. One good advantage was that, I never had to drink milk. I don't hate milk, but I love coffee. I drank two cups of coffee that evening. The evening was warm in Kerala. It was humid, but it didn't seem like it was going to rain heavily. The evening passed into the void and then came night.

Dinner was nothing great. I gulped it down my throat and went to visit the only kid in the compartment apart from me. She was sucking her thumb. I kept making silly faces to make her laugh and she did it without any qualms. She finally got tired and her mother put her off to sleep. The lullaby she hummed to her kid, showed all her affection towards her girl. I went hopping from one place to another, back to my seat. I was forced to brush by my mother and I did it quickly. I slept peacefully till morning.

The third day of my train journey had just begun. I woke up after several calls from my parents and uncle. The train had slowed down and that was a bad sign. It meant it would reach Bombay more slowly. I brushed my teeth with great pace, but carefully. I ate a healthy breakfast. We were at Andhra Pradesh. Miles to go, before reaching Bombay. We had to cover Karnataka still. The day went by slowly. I spent my time reading, hopping around and having fun with the baby. I had known her name, but now I forgot. The day was not as memorable as the first one.

The fourth day, and we were above Krishna river which would mean that we were nearing Karnataka. After we reached Karnataka, the train increased its speed again. The Karnataka journey was short as we only had to cover a bit of it, before we reached Maharastra, where Bombay is located. By evening we were in Maharastra and we were sure, by morning we would reach Bombay.

Next day, we were stuck at a place called Daund. It took us a while before we were able to move. We got down at Daund station and got a nice hot tea. It was afternoon by the time we moved from Daund, and we headed to Pune. The train kept entering tunnels which were completely dark. I enjoyed the ride. By late evening, about eight'O clock, we reached Pune. The station master said that the train would go to its shed there and it would continue its journey towards Bombay the next day. No one, not even my father could stand one more day in the train, so we decided to get down at Pune and call my father's younger cousin brother to come and collect us by road.

In the end we said goodbye to the baby and her parents and waited in the station until my uncle came to collect us. I sat drinking Sprite and chewing gum. It was a long ride from Bombay to Pune, so it took some time for my uncle to arrive. In India the speed limit is a bit low, so it took even more time for my uncle to arrive. He arrived by twelve midnight with his driver friend. We sat in the car and drove to Bombay.

In the car there was some boring Hindi movie going on. I went to sleep immediately. By six in the morning, we reached Bombay, at last. I lazily woke up to breathe the Bombay air. It smelled bad. So did I. I went home and took a bath immediately. It was a lovely five days of unhygienic living. Now, wasn't it?

Hasta la Vista,
K

WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE AND AFTER THE FIRST FOUR DAYS OF NINTH GRADE!

I had passed eighth grade with flying colours(pleased to know). Examination the most tensing period of our lives had come to an end(I know there were still more to come, but still). Eighth grade had finally come to end and firstly I had no choice, but to bid goodbye to the senior middle school department and all the teachers who had taught me well! I had written a poem for two of my special teachers and of course they know who they are. In fact they are regular readers of my blog. Mrs.Laxmi Nandakumar and Mrs.Jessy Paulose, thank you again for helping me out and may both of you have a good life ahead. Farewell.

Secondly, I have to say farewell to one of my classmate named Vignesh, who has left school. We weren't close friends, but we were good friends. Those are all good memories. After the scary exams I was finally able to take breath. It felt good. It was like I was cramped in a room full of books, that too, school books. I would have found my school library which has no books at all(what I mean is that it has no good books)way better. After all, after the exams I was all alone in the afternoon, as parents were at work, and I had no siblings. I thought it would be great fun.

Either ways as my luck is mostly bad, the thought lasted for only few hours, as I was busted the very first day of my holiday for not cleaning my bookshelf at the earliest. Well, the first week was bad and boring. There was nothing to do, but hum music to oneself or to roam around aimlessly. There was nothing to watch on television, nothing to read in the bookshelf, and I was damn bored with the video games I had. Due to this boredom I couldn't blog at all that week. I was totally out of concentration.

In the end I took my tennis ball and started bouncing it around. According to my mother it was a fool thing to do(like she knew what was happening). The next week, however I was able to buy two new and interesting books which kept me glued to it. I wouldn't be mentioning the books, as it is popular and I wouldn't want my relatives to read what I read if at all they read this blog or if at all they haven't seen it.

That week went in reading books, and again I couldn't blog. The next week at last I could blog after quite sometime. I was proud that I could come up with something. I was also a bit unhappy as I lost flow in between due to phone calls from parents and all that.

Ninth grade was just around the corner. Books to be bought, uniforms to altered, what a stupid way to start the first week before school. Go down to the tailor, get the pants altered, go to the book store buy the books, and oh, mommy forgot, you have to buy milk, curd, vegetables, snacks........and that would be about it. Also I had to be sure to bring hundred dirhams change! It was a hell of a week I tell you. It was long week, because apart from going to the tailor and giving the pants that needed to be altered, I had to receive it as well. On the way you had to look at the Emarati kids, who as always, had attitude problems, and they of course had that 'thou shalt die' look on their faces. They maybe fierce looking, but trust me, they are just plain scooby-doos and shaggys from inside.

The day before the first day of ninth grade I had packed all my books and had gone for the movie 'The Hunger Games', which turned out to be boring in the end. The romantic way they ended it, was boring. I had gone with my cousin brother whom I have mentioned mostly in my post 'Two Hours and Forty Minutes', and also my cousin sister whom I have mentioned in my post 'Being the Only Child'. The elder one of course, not the trouble-maker. My sister seemed to enjoy the movie(girlzzzz!)and my brother like me hated the ending, but he also said it was better than the book which the author turned into a mega love story.

The next day school started as usual. I got up early in the morning and brushed my teeth as slow as I could. After my daily chores, I dressed my self in the new uniform (which had a horrible colour combination). I left home for the bus. The bus came, I entered. After a long journey we reached school. I entered my class, and greeted my friends. Joe was present as usual. Our time-tables were handed over and soon the periods began.

Hindi, my second language, almost left me crying. As a matter of fact it almost left me crying after two whole years(I'm not an emotional person, and I definitely don't care if Romeo gets Juliet or not). Too much it was, I looked at Joe with a sad expression and he looked at me in the same way. The other subjects were equally challenging. There is too much homework and I don't know how I'm blogging right now. I'd  be an idiot to even blink my eyes in class. A hell lot of work to do. With that I have my Mathematics tuition. Two whole hours and sometimes even more. The textbooks were heavy(arrrrgh! I can feel the pain). My back would have gone for a toss, if I would have had those textbooks on my back for more than fifteen minutes.

Some teachers started scaring us with the things that will happen during the board exam and all in the first day itself! Some teachers, luckily, decided to console us rather than scare us. Some did both. I knew in the back of mind that ninth grade is going to be like trying to kill Hulk in an instant. Well all did not go well or as expected, but what to do, life is hard. After all it is the twenty first century(sigh! Why?!). I'm okay with it as long as I have something called as free will!

Hasta la Vista,
K

EAT AT JOE'S!

It was a normal April morning. As usual, I got up early for school. After a ten kilometre or so bus ride, we arrived at  the school. Being a third grader, I didn't roam about and went straight to the class. What could possibly happen on a normal day? Meet friends, learn whatever the teachers teach. Playabout during recess, and of course be careful not to get into trouble. Where would a child from third grade know that it was going to be a memorable day in the child's life? Not even an adult would have known. Where would he know that he's going to meet a friend who will be with him for the next few years. Well this day was like that.

The science teacher smiled at me looking at my notebook, "Sweet work! Boy. You just need to work on your hand writing and diagrams a bit."
"I'll do that alright.",I replied quickly.
I'm not a person who likes a sweet conversation, especially with a teacher. The teacher was lucky to get four words as an answer, because it is usually just a single word, mostly 'okay'. After sometime, a peon entered the class knocking at the door. The teacher walked to the peon. They had a brief conversation. After the conversation, the teacher turned to the class(the students)and told us that a new friend(as she said it)was going to join us that day. Since the class was a mixed class, with boys and girls(boys and girls got separated when I went to fourth grade). The girls wanted their 'Prince Charming'(as usual, they get bored of the boys in the  class pretty quickly).

Well, the girls did get their prince, but not what they expected of him. A tall, frail boy, who's afraid of dead rats and black cats(he still is), shaggy hair, very cramped shoulders(that has changed), big face and brown skin. He stepped in, delighted and astonished by the roar of the class(if you're a student you'll understand why we roared). The teacher held his arm and said with pleasure(she loved talking),"This is Joe! He's going to be with you guys for...............I don't know how much time, but I'm sure you'll help him out and.......you know take care of  him while he's new to the school."
Sure, sure! We'll feed him bottled milk while he's still new,I thought to myself.

He took his place next to another boy(lucky for him). He took out his books from his bag and stared at the teacher as if asking for help. The teacher approached and started explaining to him what had to be done. Then she looked at me and told Joe," He's a clever boy, if you have any problems you could ask him for help. You could take his notes, they're complete. But, I'll warn you, you'll have a hard time figuring out what is written."
"Me!", I shouted.
"Why ever not?"
"Because I've never helped anyone like that. I don't know him. How can I trust him with my books?"
"Don't worry, if at all he doesn't return it, tell me."
"Right!"

That afternoon, after school when I was walking towards the bus that would take me home, I saw Joe coming towards me. He held out an arm and I shook it reluctantly. He pointed towards the bus area and said,
" Could you help me find my bus?"
"Number?", I asked
"What?"
"Your bus number."
"Oh! Bus number sixty one!"
"Well according to me, it should be few buses away from my bus. I can't tell you the number of buses, because not all the buses between my bus and your bus is in use."
"Whoa! What a tongue twister! You must be having good pronounciation for that!"
"Pronunciation!",I corrected.
"I have come from Pune, in Maharastra. We didn't pay much importance to all these things over there. Got to get used to it, you know."
"I understand"
"Okay! Bye, I'll find the bus, see you tomorrow!"
"I'll be seeing you too"
He laughed at that and we went to board our buses.

A few weeks later Joe came to me and told me that he had shifted. He also said that he had to change the bus he was travelling in. On asking which bus, I was surprised to hear that it was my bus! He assured me that we were going to have great lot of fun. I wasn't convinced, but I smiled. I was kind of happy to have one more bus-mate, but I was unsure whether he'd make a good one.

Even with all my doubts, he turned out to be a good friend. He was not just a good friend but a best friend. He also lived quite close to me, and we had great fun playing video games and going to a park next to our place once in a while. One thing we loved was making up stories and acting them out or making our toys the actors. We were good at that. After all we had to be good at that otherwise, what's the fun? We used to amuse each other by making up silly jokes.

I remember once when his mom asked me how he was at school. I was more than just dumbfounded. Joe was embarrassed. I somehow said something and got away with it. I could see the relief in his face when I finished. He wasn't that mischevious in school, but I would have been biting my nails if my mom had asked that question to him, even though I wasn't really mischevious in school either.

My tenth birthday wasn't a grand one, but he was the one who showed up. No one else. It was working day, so you know how busy people are. We went to eat out and also went to the gaming center in a mall. We really didn't do much, but hanging out with friends is completely different from hanging out with family.

Diwali is a festival in India also known as the 'Festival of Lights'. We don't celebrate it as in India because we have only a day as holiday for this particular festival. Joe came to my house some time before this festival in the year 2009. He had shifted a bit farther from my house and I had not seen it. He invited me and my family to his house during the day of Diwali. I looked at my mother who was present there. She shrugged and said,"Why ever not?"

Few days later we were at Joe's house. His mother offered us sweet snacks as goes the tradition. We ate to our heart's content. After that me and Joe had fun playing with some toy airplanes he had bought. Then it was time to take leave. Joe turned to me and said, "Had fun eating at Joe's?"
I smiled.
Even today I cannot forget 'Eatin at Joe's', whenever I see him. We have a completely different definition for fun, but what matters is that we're still together and fun is fun.

Hasta la Vista,
K

THE DAY IT RAINED BAD!

In the UAE it is usual dry, being a desert. It hardly rains. It does rain at times, usually during the month of December and then again in March. For the past two years the rain hasn't gone past a drizzle, so it is hotter and drier.

In this post I recollect an incident that took place a few years ago(five years and three months ago to be precise).

I got up early, reluctantly, it being a working day, oblivious to the fact that it was raining hard and heavily. After brushing my teeth and bathing, I recovered from my drowsiness which encapsulated my mind. I had a very light breakfast, after putting on my uniform and cursing school.
"It is raining. Why go to school?", I asked my mom who smiled, because five years ago I was never reluctant to go to school. I was only reluctant to wake up. She knew that after a while I'd get over with it.

I lifted my school bag and went down to wait for the God forbidden bus, which would come early if you were late and late if you were right on time. It being a rainy day, and there being lot of traffic the bus was as usual LATE! I cursed the bus as I was a sissy back then. I hated waiting! I had to wait for more than an hour before the bus arrived and believe it or not there were plenty more children to pick-up. I was drenched as I did not have an umbrella or rain coat. We don't keep umbrellas at home as it hardly rains and it remains useless. Even if you could use it to protect yourself from the sun, I was not that kind of a person. I love heat. What could be better than a sunny morning?

So, I got into the bus and sat chatting with my friends. We also kept playing hand games which was a trend for us then. It was ten 'O clock and we were still far from school. The bus was supposed to pick me up at six thirty, which was history. The first four periods were long gone and we still were far from school. The best part was, that there were more people to be picked up.

I was bored sitting in the bus, that too cramped on the seat, unable to move from my posture. My muscles were getting sore and I knew I had to get up otherwise I would have been most probably paralysed. So, after warning my friends that I was going to get up, I got up from my seat, stretched my legs and arms and sat again.

The weather was so damp that you could smell water in the confines of a closed and air-conditioned bus. We were lucky to a have a school cardigan as the driver was unwilling to turn off the air-conditioner. There was water seeping through the tiny holes near the window and unluckily I was sitting right next to the window. I was astonished how deep the wheels of the bus had gone under the rainwater as the country's drainage system was excellent yet you didn't have potholes on every road.

The exciting thing I learnt was the slope of the road. The road slopes so even if there were no much of potholes the water comes down to the sides of the roads so that  no much damage is done to the roads.
I also admired the oil on the water which looked colourful due to the water. Even the reflection of the traffic lights looked beautiful.

My friend kept on going about the upcoming winter vacations which he said he would enjoy to the fullest. He kept talking about his dad taking him to tour Burj Al Arab which is a seven star hotel in Dubai. It is famous for its seafood and luxury. To which I replied that Dubai is full of tourist spots.

Rain came down harder and it looked like we would never get to school as it was eleven 'O clock. The teacher who used the bus was kind enough to call the school authorities and ask them to give a holiday. To my and my friends' utter astonishment school declared leave for the day.

The bus dropped us back home and it didn't take much time as we didn't go far. He took a shorter and muddy route to drop us. I rushed into my building as it was raining hard and I didn't have an umbrella. The watchman was kind enough to put a rug just before the steps so that anyone could rub their shoes on it. It was my pleasure to do so as I was amused by it then.

At last I reached home and I was surprised that my parents(they had a holiday too!) weren't surprised to see me. On asking why they replied that the school had called them and told them that that day was a holiday and gladly even the following day was a holiday! That day is got to be the most rocking day of my life!

Hasta la Vista,
K

PS: Note that the recent poll will be put again after few months as I'm disappointed with the number of votes and I'm still undecided. My mother voted twice by mistake thus there is an increase in vote in 'Yes'.

TWO HOURS AND FORTY FIVE MINUTES!

Rakshabandan is an Indian festival wherein a sister ties a band on the brother so that he protects her(he protects her either ways, just in the name of a festival). The brother in return has to buy her a gift. Cousins are involved too.

Last year or five months ago, when I was in India, we had this particular festival coming up. My cousin sister was the one tying the Rakhi or the band for me. I had bought her a gift long ago, but my cousin brother whose Rakhi was also being tied by cousin sister woke up just the day before the festival. Me and my brother were either ways on our way to watch a movie the next day, so we thought we would be there early and we would book the ticket and then hunt for the gift.

The next day we were on our way to the mall and we saw nothing great on the way apart from a pace of donkeys. We reached the place three hours early. We booked our ticket and started our hunt for the gift.

My brother first thought of a key chain. We inspected the store carefully. Then he said, "I think we should check for something better. Don't you?"
"I guess.", I replied.
We then thought of buying her a music CD. We headed to the store and we found nothing she would like!
"Hell!", my brother exclaimed.
"Think of something else.", I said.
"Perfume!"
"Great idea!"
We headed to the store. After fifteen minutes of sniffing like dogs, we understood that we are really bad at choosing perfumes. We are equally bad with cosmetics, so we dropped that idea.

At last my brother thought of something sensible, a card! We knew we could buy her a card along with the gift! After another fifteen minutes of looking at one card after the other, we made up our minds to buy a simple yet beautiful card.

After an hour, when only half an hour was left for the movie, we decided to buy the key chain. We took ten minutes to choose the the key chain and another ten to pay the money after waiting in the queue. We were lucky enough to reach in time for the movie.

The next day when my sister saw the gifts she screamed(just kidding)!

Hasta la Vista,
K

AROUND MY HEAD IN ABOUT.................A FEW MINUTES!

I had a dream, an interesting one. It was magical you could say. It was quite....................unusual.

I was peeping through the front door of my flat. I was surprised that the door was narrowly open as I just came from school and my parents were at work! Two men were chatting, something I couldn't make out. They kept chatting for half an hour. I was paralyzed.

Why can't I run to the watchman and complain?, I thought.
Suddenly and unexpectedly my left hand pushed open the door.
"NO!", I screamed.
I closed my eyes for sometime, then I saw that both men had vanished!
"Hell! What's wrong with my left hand?", I whispered.

I entered my bed room and put down my bag after carefully locking my door. I opened my cupboard, to take out fresh clothes. As soon as I put them on, my left leg started pulling me to the end of the cupboard!

I banged my head on the wall of the cupboard and I was surprised that I was in another world. I couldn't notice everything as my leg was still pulling me. I could see only black, black and more black!

I tried stopping my left leg with my right, but no luck. The left leg just continued pulling me.
Am I suffering from Alien Hand Syndrome?, I thought.
My leg kept pulling me till a large black door, which I wouldn't have noticed, if its golden handle was not prominent. The door opened in front of me and there was darkness!

Well, if you really think this was my dream then 'fooled you'. Otherwise, sorry for wasting you time!

Hasta la Vista,
K

FOOD!

I................I am a great fan of food. I may be thin, but a great fan of food. Besides I get hungry about five-six times a day. I am not a great fan of eating out, actually the food source never matters to me. I don't have a favourite food, so don't bother asking me that question. I like spicy, being Indian. I love sweet(anytime brother). 

Sweet food are one of my favourites I could say. I do have a sweet tooth, as some people say it. Chocolate cakes, butterscotch pastries, chocolate chip cookies, fruit salad with sugar syrup is quite an appetite for me. I have always wondered, how lucky foodies are, as they live to eat rather than the other way round! Fascinating isn't it? Besides who wouldn't like going all around the world and eating cakes dripping with chocolate and whip cream, with almonds crunching in their mouths and hazelnuts getting shredded into pieces(can feel it in my mouth). Eating pastas coated with ketchup and cheese. Soft and smooth, allowing your mouth to just move along with the groove of the food.

Fruits getting blended into smoothies, which just sweetens your tongue with its exotic flavour.  Ice-creams coated with chocolate sauce and crunchy almond. Melting in your mouth, until it sinks in. Chillies burning your tongue and soothing your throat by clearing all disturbances.

Bread and jam just sweetening your morning with their nutritious flavour. Marmalade and chocolate spread would do well too. Egg, not having much of taste but strengthening  you with its vitamins(scrambled egg is what I like , especially with chillies). Sandwich, with cheese and sweet tomatoes and salty potatoes and lettuce, and ketchup or mustard or both, with mayonnaise just crunching in your mouth. Ha! Who can forget the bread coated with butter before sandwich-ing your vegetables and other things between it.

Well! Wake up!

Hasta la Vista,
K 

BEING THE ONLY CHILD!

I am the only child of my parents and therefore the most lonely in the house. Unlike my cousins, who get to irritate their siblings all the time, I'm restricted to irritating myself or anyone else who gets irritated easily(mom is one). Once upon a time, I thought it would be hilarious to have a baby brother or sister who I could keep troubling all the time(after their infant stage of course). When I think of it now, it scares me!

I understood that the elder sibling troubling the smaller one is way old. It is the vice versa now. You could really mark those words; vice versa! For example my cousin sister who is like twenty days older to me has a smaller sister who is seven years of age. Puny as any girl or boy of that age would be, but very clever. She could have everything her way by just getting her sister vexed. The method is quite simple.

HOW TO GET THINGS DONE YOUR WAY!

Ingredients:
an elder sibling
your mother
yourself

Method:
Keep irritating your sibling by either continuously hitting him/her or stealing something from his/her wardrobe. He/she will soon get angry. They'll be sure to give you a nice whacking too, but never mind that. Instead go complain to your mother that your sister/brother is hitting you. It would be nice if you complain when she is busy with some kind of work.

Result:
You'll find that your mother will soon yell at your sibling and your sibling will be forced to work your way.

                                                          *   *    *
So you see why it scares me now. Besides now I'm used to living without siblings and facing my boredom. There are means you know. Fascinating means that I will let you readers figure out.

YOUNGER SIBLINGS!!!!! YECH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hasta la Vista,
K

FIRS' DAY AT THE POOL

"Mom! I'll learn swimming in three days time, you wait and watch!", I shouted.
"Yeah perhaps...........Maybe.", my mom replied unconvincingly.

I was just waiting to jump into the pool the next day. I had swimming classes, and swimming used to always interest me. Not that I wanted to be a pro, it was just fun to learn, and you could show-off a lot after learning the particular sport. Six hundred dirhams was rather costly, but worth it.

The very same day, me and my dad went out hunting for swimming trunks and goggles(I was relieved as I was finally out of the house after say, three days). We got it in ADIDAS. Branded clothes is what I love. We came back home, delighted with our shopping.

Next day I got up happily. Packed everything I needed for the class inside a bag. Dad, drove me to my class, with some difficulty as it was the day after Christmas, as it was very messed up outside, with broken spray painting bottles etc. We got there after ten minutes of road rash, and finally met my teacher, Chris.

After a quick change of clothes I jumped into the swimming pool. My instructor(Chris)literally jumped into the pool. Then asked the strangest question in the world;
"Do you know how to blow a candle?"
What? What has that got to do with swimming? I am here to learn swimming , Mr.Chris!, I thought.
"Course I do.", I said.
"Okay, so go under water and blow a candle.", he said.
Which candle? What candle? Who's candle? Can a candle burn under water?, I thought.
"Blow a candle," he said. " Like this."
He actually showed me how to blow a candle. He blew at his fingers and then told me to do the same under water(without the finger, of course). Then I knew what he said. I dipped my head into the water and blew air out of my lungs.
"No, no!", Chris said, startling me. "First inhale air through your mouth and then blow the bubbles under water."
"Oh," I said. "Like that."
Then I inhaled air through my mouth, burning my lungs with chlorine and dampness, and dipped my head into the water again and blew air out of my lungs, thus forming bubbles inside water.
"Good!", my teacher said. "Now come here, catch this wall and blow bubbles, stretching your arms."
I did what I was told.
"Now dip your head into the water, then come up, look at tree in front of you, inhale through your mouth, dip your head into the water again, and blow your bubbles."
"Aye.", I replied.
Again I did what I was told.
"Look at the tree!", my teacher told me.
'Kay I'm getting it, stop pushing me., I thought.

After some time of repeating the exercise, my teacher asked me to move my legs while blowing the bubbles. He kept asking me to relax in between(which I found hard to do).
"Good! Now time to learn how to float.", my teacher said.
"Thank God! Finally!", I said.

He kept lecturing me about keeping the body straight, not forgetting to blow the bubbles and so on. After substantial practising, I got to go home.

At home my mom asked me, "How was your class?"
"Good.", I replied
"So, how did you like swimming?"
"Like it?! I'm obsessed with it!"
"And, besides, about learning swimming in three days, I got to think over it.", I said.

Hasta la Vista,
K

QUEUES!

I love travelling by an airplane, but the only thing I hate are the queues. They just bore me to death. You pack your bag to step in to the airport then the flight which takes you away from the country you're in. Bored of the country, as you've almost visited every place existing in the country you pack your bag quickly.

You enter the airport where you're supposed to wait in a long queue to check-in. Even if  you finish it off with the self check in, you're still supposed to wait in a long queue to drop off your bag, as everyone has done the same thing. Then again you have to wait in a queue for the immmigration.

While waiting in the queue you notice the staff smirking as they go through the passport thoroughly. They may find the names too funny but they've to control their smirk, cause that's why they're put there. You finish with immmigration work then proceed to the boarding gate where you'll have to wait for atleast twenty minutes before the flight arrives.

Then after that there's again a queue to board the flight. People losing their patience here, and they keep pushing and pulling each other as if they have to catch a seat in a bus. You enter the flight and smell the strong aroma of lemon. Its fantastic at first, but then it soon starts irritating your nose. Well, after all this you feel drinking a glass of juice, any juice but lemonade(cause of the strong smell of lemon in the flight).The airhostess, after minutes of roaming around gets to you. Asking politely if you want anything to drink or eat.
You grab two to three packets of juice, drink it as if you have to share it with another person and then keep it in the seat pocket to hand it over to the airhostess when she asks for it.

After sometime you realize that you've drank too much. You need to use the lavatory. You find out that all of them are engaged and there's another queue waiting for you. It takes about fifteen minutes before you get your chance to use the lavatory.

After the long journey, you find yourself outside the plane, walking towards the immigration again. After viewing all the disgusting smirks, you move to  the baggage claim, to claim your baggage. You wait there for over an hour, that is if your lucky to get all your luggage. You dump them in the trolley not waiting to put in proper order or anything like that.

In the end you come out of the airport to face the boisterous crowd. You keep searching for your relatives or friends, and in the end one pops out of the crowd waving his hand to you. He comes out with a helping hand to help you with the luggage and then gives you bad news,
"I didn't bring car as it  is gone for repairs so we'll have to wait in that long queue to book a cab."
Queues never seem to end................................

Hasta la Vista,
K

THE WORST WEEKEND!

I ran into my flat shouting,"Hurry up mom!I've got loads of homework to do. And I have to start today."
"Okay" she managed to say.

I gobbled my lunch not waiting to chew. I dumped the plate in the sink and rinsed my mouth in a hurry! I took a paper and started noting down the homework I had to do that weekend.

I started writing quickly and in a very weird handwriting, not forgetting to write the date of the day I'm going to complete it(start it actually). I started with second language(Hindi), as my mother was looking at me as if I was a debauch politician.

I wrote quickly, then did the other things I had in mind and then closed my shop.

The very next day I woke up quite early, finished my regular chores and started working, I learned for my Arabic test and then started mugging up my English speech, quite quickly! After the hard days work I was quite exhausted. It was like I was the criminal of a crime who was being penalized severely!
"School is just the augmentation of homework." I thought.

A day later the cursed weekend came to an end. I had school, I was waiting for the Arabic period. I was totally nervous and my brain was half-numb. The teacher entered the class, kept her handbag down(my nervousness was making this a bit more melodramatic). Then she opened her mouth to speak and told us the test had been postponed! I was astonished! All that studying gone waste!

A period later I came to know that my second language teacher was absent(or busy or something, whatever I didn't mind). I was furious this time! "They asked us to study and now look what they've done." I thought to myself, indignantly. A few hours later I found out that my speech was postponed too, but this time my mind didn't act so over dramatic as I wasn't completely thorough with my speech!
"Depressing" I said.

Well that was a bad, depressing,exhausting and a boring weekend!

Hastla la vista,
K  

THOR'S DAY 2

A week after Thor's day, Thor was again planning to haunt me, again!This time he took away my Chemistry and English notebooks! At school I went berserk trying to find the missing books. I checked the teacher's cupboard and drawer but no luck.

I was thinking of a way, a way by which I could find those books,but no luck(as I said, luck is never on my side). There was one peculiar thing about me, that whenever I got my Time Table I used to always find it hard to not mug it up! I started interrogating my brain these questions.

"Which period is this?", I asked
"The first period.", my brain replied.
"No, not that. Which subject?"
"Mathematics"
"The next period is......"
"Mathematics!"
"Oh man! Why don't I just bunk and search for those books."
"You could get caught!"
"Oh, you're such an idiot.Now since you mentioned it I won't go."

After the long conversation I kicked my table softly as I didn't want anyone to think that I'm a psycho. 

"Dammit!Damn it!Dammit!", I shouted."Now I'll have to make two new notebooks!" 
"I'll give you my notebook.", my friend Joe offered.
"Oh whatever!", I said."I still have to make a new notebook and re-write all the stuff I've already written. And English, I've written all those articles and letters and answers by myself!"

I, at last took Joe's notebooks and wrote it all again!

Two Sundays later I found my notebook in the library, and I totally didn't know how it got there!

"Thor you have really got to stop haunting me, for God's sake!", I screamed after receiving my long(short actually)lost notebooks!

Hasta la Vista,
K     

THOR'S DAY

Thursday is named after the ancient Greek God of War,Thor! Well for me this is sometimes true and sometimes not. Thursday afternoons maybe fun because after Thursday comes Friday which is a weekend in the UAE. When I say this I'll always add maybe because of the following incident.


"Yo Joe comin to play today?" ,I asked my friend.
"Definitely",he said "What time?"
"Five"
"Yeah okay, five."
"Five" ,I repeated.


I disconnected and went searching for my school bag. I took out my school calendar(a kind of reminder, like in mobiles)to check how much homework I had. I gasped as I saw that there were loads. Then I thought ,maybe I could do it the next day, I had two days free either ways. Then my land line rang. I rushed to pick it up and receive the call.


"Hello?!" ,I said, still thinking about the homework.
"Hey K, how do you do?" ,my aunt's voice cut through my thoughts.
"Hi, fine."
"Give to your mother."
"'Kay"


I handed the phone to my mom. She was confined to her favourite sofa. After a long chat, my mother beckoned to me.


"Your aunt, uncle and cousins are coming this evening, complete all your homework.", she said
"Dammit, I thought of starting it tomorrow, and there are loads of them.", I choked
"So better start because they're only leaving on Saturday morning."


I went to my room and took out my books as I knew there was no point arguing. I started with English first as I knew that it would be easy. I kept Mathematics for later. It was five and my friend called me as I totally forgot about our conversation and I didn't turn up.


"You comin?",he asked
"Wait a minute."
I asked my mother if I could go and play. She asked me how much I had finished. I replied that there was still loads.She told me not to go! I made excuses, but no luck(luck is never on my side).I took the phone.


"I can't come, I've got homework to do.",I said indignantly.
"Oh you're such a nerd.",he replied
"Grrrrr! Shut up!"


This was totally Thor's day.


Hasta la Vista,
K

GOOD MORNIN!

There is a good thing and a bad thing about July. The good thing is that you are free from the evil claws of school. The bad thing, going to India! If you are a boy who is a NRI,who was born and is being brought up in the UAE, you'll definitely find India filthy. What I'm talking about is last July when I had no other choice but to come to India! I walked out of the airport like I had a man with a gun behind me. Beside me was my mother and maternal grandmother. My elder cousin brother, who is four years older to me, walked towards our direction smiling. He came towards me and gave me a vexing hug, then a kiss. Well I didn't mind as long as I had my hands to rub them off! He gave the same treatment to my mother and maternal grandmother. We sat in a Chervelot Tavera, whose driver was friendly. We had borrowed the car. Well, the driver wasn't new to me as I had known him for some five to six years. After the four to five hours journey from Andheri to Borivali in Mumbai we reached our destination, HOME!


 There I met my paternal grandmother and cousin sister, who were most delighted to see me and my mother. After sometime of panting(as we were carrying heavy bags)we sat to chat. I introduced my PSP to my cousin brother as he hadn't seen it even though it was seven months old. After a very simple dinner and bath, we went off to sleep.


I got up at four in the morning not knowing how! Everybody except me were asleep. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't.After sometime of early day dreaming I heard my brother's mobile ringing! I was astonished, then I understood that it was only the alarm. My cousin sister being an adult started kicking my brother so that he would wake up!


"It's five, wake up!", she screamed.


It was five! It couldn't be ,but it was the truth! I was day dreaming for an hour! Atlast my brother woke up. My sister barging into the bathroom to brush her teeth. My paternal grandmother who was supposed to cook breakfast for them got up too! I felt sorry. When all this was going on I decided to do something stupid.


I decided not to move from my bed and act as if I were asleep. I heard my grandmother asking them to hurry up. They finished their breakfast and quickly left the house.


Usually my mornings are dull, but this one was A-W-E-S-O-M-E!


After sometime when my grandmother sat down on a chair I startled her by wishing her a grand good morning!


Hasta la Vista,
K