Craftwork

THE PARENTS - Part 4/8 – Craftwork

Jay drove back to work.

Back at home, the kids were on cloud nine. They jumped, danced, ran around and played singing loudly.

The boys had their lunch and later, as Vye relaxed in the living room watching his favourite TV channel Jim Jam TV, Elle and Kay sat down to review Kay’s schoolwork and to finish his homework for the day.

As she flipped through his school almanac, mom asked Kay “How was your school today?”

Kay replied “Okay”, which initiated the following conversation

“Why just okay. Wasn’t it great? You got your Hindi test paper today, and it says 15/15, isn’t that great?”

“Okay, but I don’t like Adrian and Ranjan and Nikhil and Mustafa. I don’t like them.

They are all bad boys only”

“Why… Why do you say that Kay”

“They are always saying that I am a girl. I am not a girl no Amma? I don’t like them”

She replied “Just ignore them Kay, they are just silly boys”

Kay didn’t respond. He just kept quiet gazing away from her face looking through the book shelf on the right.

She called out “Kay, you here? What happened to you? You got lost in wonderland or what? Where are you boy?”

The boy jerked his head as if he had just been released from a trance, and then replied “But Amma, they are making fun of me all the time, when I am in the class and even in the bus ….. the big boys in the bus also….. they also laughing at me and making fun. I don’t like that”

“These boys are all crazy. Don’t pay attention to them” his mother advised.

Kay responded half heartedly “Okay Amma” and they proceeded with his homework for the day.

After Kay finished his homework, he got permission to watch TV and so proceeded straight to the living room, where he picked the TV remote and switched channels to his favourite channel Cartoon Network. This act pissed off little Vye and he started crying loudly throwing tantrums and jumping on the sofa. The boys started fighting and rolling over each other. Finally their mother, who was busy watching some craftwork videos on youtube intervened and negotiated a settlement. Vye went back to watching his channel and Kay could now watch his favourite Ben10 videos on youtube; but after his mother finished her viewings.

Elle and Kay went back to the study room, where Elle sat back on the revolving chair and resumed watching her craftwork videos as Kay stood next to her looking at the screen inquisitively and yet anticipating that his mother’s work would finish soon so that he could hop on to the seat and take charge of the computer.

As his mother watched the videos Kay asked her innocently “Amma, why are you watching this? Will it make you strong and teach you how to attack?”

“Ahh” she said and continued “Kay remember, on Friday when we were Shopping, I had brought some crepe paper and a bottle each of glue and varnish?”

“Yes Amma” he responded

“Well, I am making a new cookie jar” she informed him

“How will you make it Amma?” Kay asked

She replied “You just watch me do it and you’ll know. Would you like to help me to make it?”

Kay asked back “Would it be fun?”

“Yes, it would be. You will enjoy it” she said and continued “But we have to wait, can’t do it while Vye is awake”

“Okay Amma” he said and added “I know, babies should not play with scissors, It is not safe. But I am a big boy no? I know how to work safely”

She replied “Yes” and got up from the chair and let Kay hop in.

Elle then proceeded to the living room to put little Vye to sleep. Vye, hopped on to his mother’s chest and shut his eyes as Kay, who was now watching Ben10 – Alien Force videos on youtube was all animated and screamed out the names of various Ben10 forms. His mother, who sat in the adjacent room listening to his mumblings, let out a chuckle as she heard him scream “I am the ultimate….. hee hooo haa….. you, bad boy ….. I am going to attack you with the Ultimatrix….. take that .... yeahhhh”

When Vye had dozed off, Elle took him and placed him in his crib and called out Kay. It was time to make their cookie jar.

From the kitchen, Elle got two large empty canisters of Nido Milk Powder, in which she used to otherwise store their confectionaries and cookies. She took measurements and then cut out the crepe paper and wrapped it over one and on the other she wrapped bits of newspaper cut outs, gluing both on the underside. As they waited for the glue to dry, they searched for flower images on google and later printed out pictures of beautiful flowers on their home printer. Elle cut out the flower printouts as Kay watched admiringly, impressed by his mother’s craftwork.  When the glue had dried, they pasted the flower pictures on the canisters. Later Elle applied a coat of varnish over it and put it for drying.

After they finished making it, Kay kept staring at it and asked his mother, “Amma, why did you put this thing over it?” to which his mother asked back “What thing? This Varnish?”

“Yes” he replied, to which she explained “That is to protect it”

“Like Gwen’s shield no, Amma?” He suggested.

“Yes” his mother replied and asked back “Isn’t it beautiful now, Kay?”

“Yes it is. Like a new dress, no Amma?” he replied and continued “Cool. That’s a great job, Amma”

Elle thanked her son and said “It wouldn’t have been possible without your help, son” to which Kay responded “Yes Amma, I am a good boy always. I can help anyone all the time. Like Ben10, I always save the day” and went on to resume watching his Ben10 videos.

Elle then made a phone call to Jay, who was at work. As his phone rang, she heard little Vye calling out, and so, rushed to the Kid’s Bedroom giving the phone to Kay and instructing him “Talk to Pappa. I think Vye has got up. I’ll get him”

After some ten odd rings Jay picked up the phone. He sounded tired and weak.

Kay asked “How are you Pappa? Are you busy?”

His dad replied “I am okay son”

“Okay Pappa. You know today Amma made a new cookie jar and I helped her” said Kay.

Dad replied “Okay, Good”

“I am a good boy no Pappa?” Kay continued

“Yes you are” said Dad in a tired voice

“Did you buyed the Colouring Puzzle?”

“It is not buyed Kay. We say bring, buy or brought. There is no word buyed”

“Ok Pappa. Did you buy it?”

“No I didn’t. I shall do that on my way back from the office”

“Okay Good Pappa. You are my hero. I know you can save the day like Ben10”

That brought a little cheer into Dad’s eyes and Kay heard him smile as he replied “Thank you Kay”

“Okay Pappa. At what time will you come home?” Kay enquired

“I’ll be there before seven”

“What is the time now, Pappa?”

“I think it is around half past four”

“Okay Pappa. Don’t forget to bring the Puzzle, Okay”

“Okay Kay I will not”

Kay then pepped up his dad’s mood by adding “Thank you Pappa. You are a Super Hero. You are strong like Hulk and no one can ever kill you. You can do the Hulk smash and save the day”

“Thank you Kay” said Dad who sounded rejuvenated and disconnected the phone.

After disconnecting the phone Kay ran to the Kid’s Room, where his mother sat on the sofa bed rocking Vye on her lap. He narrated the phone conversation to his mother and said that his Dad had promised to bring the Colouring Puzzle on his way back from work. He then mentioned that he thought his dad was not well, to which his mother replied “Oh! Your Pappa is always sick and tired when he is at office”

Kay replied “Yeah, maybe. Pappa is always like Homer Simpson only no Amma?”, to which Elle burst out laughing loudly and in the process woke up little Vye. Kay, who didn’t realize what the joke was all about, faked a laugh and then rushed back to watch is youtube videos.

Elle later got her younger son to the Study Room and showed him the new cookie jar and in response Vye said “Cookie Amma? Waawww. Goooo (Is this for the cookies, Amma? Wow! Good)” His mother, who liked the compliment, started blushing joyously. They then proceeded to the Living Room.

The Promise

THE PARENTS - Part 3/8 – The Promise

Two days had passed, and it was Sunday again, and for everyone in the Middle East, the first working day of the week.

Kay woke up by self at his usual time, 5:00AM. He brushed his teeth, took bath, changed into his school uniform, had his usual two cookies and milk for breakfast and left for school. His dad Jay, and little brother Vye, who spent most of the night playing Literati on Yahoo Games and watching Jim Jam TV respectively, were sound asleep. His mother lunged on to her daily morning chores of ironing dad’s formals for work and preparing his lunch box while occasionally poking and nudging dad to wake him up.

It was already 7:00AM, the time when Jay’s office officially commences, but he was still asleep. Elle had already shaken him thrice and also kicked his butt twice, but he kept snoring away. He was least bothered. He didn’t have to worry about reporting late. Although he reported for work with a delay of more than an hour everyday, his punching ‘In-Time’ always read 6:55AM. It was all taken care of. The modus operandi was simple. Jay had entered into a clandestine deal with the Bangladeshi Cleaner boy who worked for the Facilities Agency. Everyday the Cleaner would swipe in Jay’s card around 6:55AM regardless of whether he was present or not. The deal wasn’t cheap, but he believed that it was worth it; his early morning sleep was that precious to him.

Anyways, he finally woke up and started grumbling at his wife complaining that she should have woken him up earlier and that now he’d definitely be late for that important meeting at office. He then went straight to the study room, where he spent half an hour socializing by writing utterly cheap jokes on his friend’s walls and penning in a wise crack status message on his facebook page.  When he was finished, he lazily got up and after brief ablutions, changed into his formals and left, without taking bath or even changing his undergarments.

Elle proceeded on with her chores; she put the clothes for washing, the chicken for defrosting and then got on to her exercise routine, which usually lasted around thirty minutes and culminated with another thirty minutes jog on the treadmill.

As usual, Jay reached office at 8:45AM. He crept in through the back door silently without anyone noticing. He thought he had executed his entry pretty stealthily, but everyone in the office knew that he had arrived. No sooner had he entered the office, his peers from adjacent cubes stood up and disappeared into the washroom. As he parked his briefcase on the desk and slumped onto his chair, the Nepali Office Boy walked into his cube, asked for his permission and then sprayed an overdose of a Jasmine scented air freshener around. He thanked the Office Boy for doing his job well and complained “This place always smells so bad, isn’t it? I wonder what it is?” The Office Boy had nothing to say in return. He just smiled back and left, straight to the Wash Room, where he informed everyone that the area had been sanitised and that they could go back to their cubes.

It was the first day of the week and Jay found it difficult to keep himself awake at work. Anyways, all he had to do was to remain awake for another two odd hours and he knew he could rely on caffeine for that. He decided to make himself a cup of coffee and for that went straight to the kitchen. He entered the kitchen, where he found a few of his peers chatting. No sooner did he raise his hand and wish them “Good Morning” they just smiled at him and left, leaving him alone there. He stood there stirring his cup and grumbling “These guys have no manners at all”

He somehow managed to kill the two and half odd hours that he was at work, spending some sleeping in the washroom and the rest socializing on facebook and watching sleazy bhojpuri songs on youtube.

At around 11:30AM, he got up from his desk and left, leaving his co-workers to finally breathe in fresh air. He dashed straight to home. At home Elle and Vye greeted him with a surprise and Elle asked “So you’ve come to freshen up. Good. Go and take bath soon, you stink. Meanwhile, I’ll just get the lunch done”

He responded “No need. I’ll have lunch from the canteen later and I am here just for a nap…..no bathing shathing” and directly proceeded to the bedroom, where he hit the bed and started snoring instantly. The lunch hour at his workplace was till one in the noon, and he could easily buy another one hour and reach office by two. He knew no one would be looking for him.

After a good long nap, which lasted for over an hour, he woke up, washed his face and dressed back to go to work. As he was about to leave, there was a long screech on the calling bell, which indicated that Kay was back from school. He opened the door and let his elder son in and they greeted each other.

Kay, who had not expected to see his dad in at this time of the day asked “Why pappa, you didn’t go to office today?” to which his dad replied “Oh! I had some work at home. I am going back. It is a busy day and I have got lots of work to do”

As his dad was about to get out of the house, the boy called out from behind and said “Pappa wait, I have something to show to you”

His dad responded “What is it? Come out fast. I am getting late. There’s lot of work to do at office”

Kay opened his bag and showed dad what he had got from school today. In his hand he had a box of colour pencils. He said “See Pappa, I got the colours”

Dad took the box in his hand and checked if all the pencils were there and after the confirmation asked “Where was it? Where did you find it?” to which he replied “I had given it to Annie. She didn’t have colours and she was crying that’s why. Today I told her, I want my colours back, my father is asking, and she gave it. I did the correct thing no Pappa?”

Dad said “Good. Now don’t give it again to anyone or lose it. Keep it safely. Okay?” and was about to leave, when Kay called him again from behind and said “Now Pappa, will you get me the Colouring Puzzle?” to which his dad responded, “Okay, next week when we go for shopping”

Kay jumped first clenching his fits and then throwing his arms around. He then stomped his feet and said “No! I want it today itself. Today, today, today, today only okay?” to which his dad replied “I have lots of work at office son, it will not happen today”

The boy threw his arms again and screamed “This is not good Pappa. You are breaking your promise and that’s not good. If you behave like this, no one will trust you anymore” and turned away with a grumpy face folded arms.

Dad, who had just got a dose of his own preaching had nothing more to say in response except “Okay Kay, I will get it today, as I come back from office”

Kay instantly climbed on to the sofa and jumped spreading his arms like an eagle and screaming “Yey”

He then reconfirmed with his dad by asking “Promise Pappa, you will bring it today?”

His dad reconfirmed “Yes, I will”

The boys were overjoyed and both Kay and Vye, ran around the living room in circles laughing loudly and screaming “Yeyy, yeyyy yeyyy”

As dad left, Kay called from behind for the third time and said “Thank you Pappa. I love you Pappa… Yey Yey” and then ran to him and gave him a hug and a kiss.

After the Shopping

After I posted my last one titled ‘The Weekend Shopping’, I had promised to one of my readers, who incidentally is also someone on my BFF list, that I would pen in a befitting sequel to it. I started writing the sequel last weekend but couldn’t finish it.

I wrote few bits on it through the week and then finally finished it half an hour back. It has now become a 12,000 odd word and eight part story, which I have named ‘THE PARENTS’ with ‘The Weekend Shopping’ being the Part 1/8.

From today onwards, for the coming seven days I shall be posting a part a day, and I must  mention that I am doing so specifically heeding into the valuable comments from my best friend, who over a long distance drinking session on Skype advised me that I should break down my blogs into small parts suitable for this ‘twitter generation’

So here it is, Part 2/8. Read on. And yes do pen in your valuable comments.

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THE PARENTS - Part 2/8 - After the Shopping

It was nearing 10PM and businesses within the mall had begun to shut down for the day. The parents walked hastily towards the lift turning back occasionally to call out their lads to rush up. The boys who were dejected and also famished to the core dragged themselves lethargically.

They drove back home with Jagit Singh’s Ghazals playing on the car stereo; the younger lad dozed off sitting on his mother’s lap in the front passenger seat; the elder one sat alone in the rear seat and kept gazing out of the window. He suddenly turned, rested both his arms atop the front passenger seats and questioned his parents “Why you didn’t buy me that Colouring Puzzle?” to which there was no response from the parents.

The boy turned his head both ways checking out if one of his parents would respond and when there was none, he screamed again “I wanted that Colouring Puzzle, I want that, okay?” , to which his dad finally responded “That’s because you decided that you wanted the cookies and not that!” and the following conversation ensued.

“I want the puzzle” the boy stressed

“If you wanted the puzzle, then why did you choose the box of cookies?” his dad asked again.

“That cookies is not for me okay, it is for Vye” suggesting that the cookies were for his younger brother.

“So, you don’t want the cookies, is it?” his mom interjected

“No, I don’t want that” and he continued “But Vye is a good boy and if he likes to share with me, I can eat no? No Pappa?”

“Yes, you can” dad replied and added “But you won’t get that puzzle thing”

“But I want it Pappa?”

Dad let out a chuckle and responded “There’s no need Kay. Do you remember the puzzle that your grandma got for you last year? Where is it? You don’t really take care of your things. And as such, it is only last week that I brought you a box of colour pencils. So you don’t need colours either. I am not buying you anything. First learn to take care of your things” 

The little boy screamed out “But Pappa, I don’t have any colours with me also”

His mother interjected and clarified that they had brought him the colour pencils for his Annual Drawing Competition, which had taken place during the week and that when he returned back from school he didn’t have those colour pencils in his bag. Obviously he had either misplaced/lost it somewhere or given it away to one of his friends.

This revelation left the dad aggravated. He immediately pushed the brakes and parked the car on the parking bay adjacent to the road. He turned back, pointed a finger at the little boy and screamed “Look Kay, this is too much. I am not buying you anything. Nothing at all. You just don’t know how to take care of your things. Every time you come back from school, a pencil, a rubber or a sharpener is missing. And you… you never know where they have gone. How does it just fall off from your bag, tell me?”

The little boy Kay, didn’t react at all. He just sat there still, with his chin dropped to his chest.

The man kept staring at his son for some time, expecting an answer and then turned away, changed the gears and sped the car grumbling angrily.

As they drove on, the boy whispered in a low voice “I don’t know Pappa” to which his Dad looked back through the central rear view mirror and replied “You will never know son, and until you learn to take care of your things I will not buy you anything. This is final. And yes, you are not getting any of the cookies too.”

He then turned his face to his wife and instructed her “Elle, no cookies for him. That’s it.” 

The little boy now heartbroken and distressed leaned back and moved sideways to the left, exactly behind the driver’s seat to avoid any eye contact with his dad. He kept gazing at the brightly lit hoardings along the road. This was a bad day for the lad and he was experiencing a feeling far bigger than just sadness. As he kept looking out of the window, he bit his lips and covered his mouth with both the hands trying to control venting out his grief. His eyes were moist and tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. He didn’t wipe them. He just closed his eyes and slept.

Dad parked the car in the porch and unloaded all the wares from the trunk and loaded it onto Vye’s old pram, which now functioned as a trolley to shift all their purchases from the parking area to their third floor apartment. He then opened the rear door and shook Kay asking him to wake up. Kay woke up and got out of the car. Below his eyes were streaks of salt left by his tears. He walked slowly towards the lift taking baby steps with a slump on his back and his chin dropped. Inside the lift, his mom waited holding little Vye on her chest and simultaneously pressing the ‘open’ button. The boy walked straight to his mom and hugged her, burying his face in her breasts. Dad followed him to the lift pushing the pram. 

Once inside the apartment, mother put the little one onto his crib and starting unpacking their purchases and loading it into their respective cabinets; dad poured a large one of his favourite XXX Old Monk Rum on the rocks and slouched onto the sofa; Kay sat on his little chair in the kid’s room, with his elbows resting on his knees and palms clasped together and occasionally tapping his chin staring at his little brother sleeping peacefully.

Kay got up and walked to the kitchen, where his mother was busy unpacking. He asked his mother “Amma, I cannot have the cookies?”

His mother replied “No, Kay. Pappa said no.”

“And you will give to Vye?”

“Yes, if he asked for it”

“Not for me?”

“That is what Pappa said”

“Never at all?”

“Ask Pappa” She said and closed the discussion.

Kay slowly walked to Living Room. He stood in front of this dad, drooping and his chin dropped to his chest. He whispered softly “Sorry Pappa”

The dad, who was on the threshold of getting inebriated, pulled his lad close to the chest and hugged him and said “It’s okay. But you have to take care of your own things”. Kay was overwhelmed with the display of affection from his dad and started crying with his head buried inside his dad’s armpits.

Weeping, he asked his father “Pappa, you will never buy me that Colouring Puzzle?”

Dad thought for a while and replied “I will, if you bring back all those colour pencils that you have lost this week”

Kay said “Ok” and wiped his tears on his dad’s T-Shirt.

He then asked “You will never give me cookies also?” to which his dad replied “It is okay, you can have them. Ask Amma.”

The sudden release of the sanctions left the boy overjoyed and he ran to the kitchen jumping and laughing his way. His dad looked on smilingly as he entered the kitchen and informed his mother “Amma, Pappa said I can have cookies. I want two”

The Weekend Shopping

It was a Friday again and the family headed to their favourite weekend destination, the City Centre Mall. Their outing comprised of this weekly groceries shopping at the Carrefour and then if time permitted, either a movie at the Cineplex or a session at the Fun City, where the kids were allowed to play the various free games and rides and the parents checked out their luck on the ‘Deal or no deal’ machine and finally a dinner at the food court.

This week they were late. The father, who spent the whole night awake, was writing a blog about a sleazy movie and as a consequence of it, spent most of the day sleeping. And by the time that he woke up and decided to go out, it was already late in the evening. Needless to mention, the entertainment and subsequent eating out plans had to be shelved. All the time that they had was to go about with their regular groceries shopping and then, at the most pick up some takeaways from the food section at the hypermarket which they could later on have at home.

The kids, who were pissed off with this arrangement lunged on to throwing tantrums and started begging for chocolates and juices as their parents pushed the trolley along the aisles. The parents were smart; they had read books and innumerable articles on parenting and knew that the best way take control of the situation (and to not give into their kid’s tantrums) was to remain indifferent and aloof. The kids would beg, jump and utmost roll on the floor crying, but they’d eventually give up. And if they didn’t, all that the dad had to do was pick the elder boy by the ear and ask him to spell a difficult word or two which he would not be able to answer correctly and then let the mother take charge and attack them with light reprimands and stories of how they themselves suffered as children and how deprived their childhood was in comparison. The scheme worked well, always. The elder boy would mellow down and hang his head in dismay and the younger one, who would’ve just witnessed his commander-in-chief being ambushed, would resign and surrender.

This week’s shopping was almost done, when the father just remembered that he had to buy a new lunchbox. His friends at work were already making fun of him for carrying along a kid’s style Sponge Bob lunchbox, and he wanted to change it now and so they headed straight to the Plastics aisle adjacent to the stationery section. As the parents consulted each other and embarked onto a lengthy discussion on which one to buy, the elder son interrupted them with an innocent smile on his face and a Ben10 water bottle in his hand. He begged his parents that he wanted this new water bottle and doesn’t want the Barbie one any more as his fellow classmates were making fun of him and teasing him that he was a girl. Dad, who is also an avid reader of management books, seized the opportunity to give out a lengthy lecture to the little boy on how to confront and tactfully deal with classmates who display negative attitudes and behaviours. The mother attacked the boy by arguing that it was he who decided to keep the cheaper Barbie water bottle + box of croissants (combo offer!) rather than this Ben10 water bottle, when asked to decide during their shopping visit last week. The seven year old, though not convinced, resigned after throwing his arms around and stomping his foot. Mom, who was impressed by dad’s lecturing, looked on smilingly and let dad pick the most expensive lunch box in the shelf.  Dad got a microwaveable plain blue coloured lunchbox with an orange-green lid. The colours resembled his country, India’s cricket team jersey, which was also his favourite.

He delicately placed the lunchbox in the trolley raised his head high, filled his chest with a deep breath and then turned around and looked at other shoppers as if he had just won a prestigious award. He then looked at mom, humbly blinked his eyes at her, as if he was thanking her for being the woman behind all his achievements and then started moving towards the billing counter.

As they jointly towed the trolley, they noticed both their sons sitting on floor admiring something in the stationeries aisle. The elder one had a box in his hand and seemed to explain something to his three year old brother. It seemed like he was convincing his little brother to stand strong and stick to his elder brother and not give into any ulterior offers from their parents.

The parents called out, to which the boys went running to them, with the elder boy delicately holding the box in his hands.

Dad questioned the boys “What is this?” to which the elder one innocently replied “This is a colouring puzzle Pappa. Can you buy me this? It also got crayons in it. I can colour it and we can share and play puzzle. Isn’t it cool Pappa. Will you buy me this?”

Dad had this disdainful look on his face, which conveyed the message “When will you kids grow up”. He then pulled that thing from the boy's hand and started prying it with an intention to find a defect so that it could be rejected outright. He couldn’t find any, and so turned to their mother, spreading out his arms and a look, which seemed to ask “What to do now?”

The boys raised their heads and watched their parents’ faces eagerly as they held each other’s hand teaming up and suggesting that they were both into this together.

The mother, who by now realized that dad was in a state of quandary, took charge to resolve. She asked “How much is it sweetie?” to which dad replied “Nineteen riyals”.

“Nineteen Riyals” she screeched, to which the younger son covered both ears and shouted back “Ouch! Stop it Amma”. But Amma was not going to stop now. She had just found a lead to help daddy get out of this sticky situation. It was now her chance to give an economics lecture to the seven year old.

In a lengthy lecture, which lasted an eon, the boy learned how the complex foreign exchange system worked and that one Qatari Riyal was equivalent to over twelve and half Indian Rupees and that they were extremely poor Indian expatriates and that buying this worthless piece of object meant shelving out a whopping Two Hundred and Fifty Rupees. He also found out that the flight tickets from Doha to Kozikkode were the most expensive ones and that the single reason why they rented out an expensive three bedroom flat was just so that the boys could have ample space to run around and play and that they didn’t require any such colouring puzzle to entertain themselves. Dad went on to add his expert points on budgeting and informed the boys that buying The Colouring Puzzle would throw their monthly budget out of gear, and that it was now the elder one’s decision to take, whether he wanted the Colouring Puzzle or the box of cookies that they picked earlier.

The elder boy was determined. He wanted The Colouring Puzzle and nothing else! But the younger lad who visualized a no-win situation here, made a sad face and whispered slowly into his elder brother’s ears “Chetta, cookie”. The elder boy’s heart melted and he gave out a sorry look at his younger brother for failing him again.

The boys had once again got sucked into a negotiation situation and this time, humbly settled for the box of cookies. The parents had won again. As the boys hung their heads and followed, the parents exchanged side glances and sly smiles to each other suggesting “We are the best” and that “We always have the situation under our control”. Reading all those books and articles on parenting had helped.

Later, as they queued up at the billing counter, ‘the man’ in dad looked naughtily at his wife, picked up a box of the Seventy Five Riyals Durex Play O from the display and flung it into the trolley. That was her reward for the day’s display of ‘How to efficiently and effectively control your kids while shopping’. The wife, not to be outdone, gave back a horny smile, flared her nostrils and almost bit her lower lip suggesting that tonight something would happen. To his surprise, she then tossed in an equally expensive return gift; a box of his favourite Davidoff Classics Cigarettes, confirming that something surely would happen tonight.

As he finished paying, he whispered into his wife’s ears that “This week we are a little over budget, but that is okay”. She gave out an innocent look and he responded back with a horny roar which almost bit off her left earlobe. They smiled at each other and licked their lips, wetting it, in anticipation of the ensuing programme that night.

The little boys however gulped saliva as their mouths watered gazing at the colourful display of chocolates and toffees lined up just half an inch away from their faces. They knew that they were poor and that there was no way they were getting it. They clasped their hands together, exchanged a sad glance and followed their parents.

PS:   This is a work of pure fiction and resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Maladies of a 70’s kid – Lacking Internet

My sons, 6+ years old Kevin and 2+ years old Yohan are ardent internet guys. Kevin has been on the internet since he was 4 and by now has learnt a lot from it, including the techniques of cartoon sketching, skateboarding and cup cake dressing by merely watching youtube videos. He even knows the names of all the Ben10 aliens and forms and all the other cartoon characters, what not, including descriptions on their specific anatomies with details on how many arms, legs and eyes each one of them have. Every time Kevin comes up with a doubt or query, we invariably point him towards the computer. He opens the home page and types on the keywords as we dictate to him and lo, he finds his answers, with pictures and videos too.

When Kevin was 2½ years old, he started play school and he struggled; Yohan on the other hand has already started his classes at home. Every morning his homeschooling begins with a review of alphabets and numbers on the website www.starfall.com. Today, I made him a desktop icon to access that website and now he doesn’t even need his Amma to help him open that webpage. He can go on with his class work all by himself. All that his Amma needs to do is keep intermittently checking on and reviewing his performance.    

Internet is really a boon, and access to internet is possibly the best gift that one can give to any kid. Through it, my boys have struck access to the world’s largest free library and communication channel. And I bet they are already using it to the fullest. I so very much miss not having the internet during my academic days. Although, I might have not used it to the same levels as my kids are doing now, I would have definitely got some advantage out of its two main traits.

The free library

If we had internet during our college days, I am sure, we would not have had to tear up our Khurmis and Aroras and share them chapter wise the night before the exams. Seniors would upload their notes and past question papers (which were a rare commodity) and we could just download and practice/use them without being obliged! If we wanted a specific book, all we would’ve had to do, would’ve been to log on to limewire and download the latest upload (err, edition) of whatever book we wanted.

The usual smart asses would have no need to scavenge the library and hide the Civil Engineering books within the Electronics section. Needless to say, the librarian’s job would’ve been a much easier one as every student would be locked in their rooms reading their online engineering journals and doing their own private little thingy, leaving the library free for some bold couples to venture out and work on exploring their amorous side.

I am sure, if there was internet during our times, there would’ve been lesser prying eyes (because they’d have got all what they wanted, through the internet), leaving the girls more bold and yet susceptible to the charms of some of my very lovable friends, who were otherwise rejected.

On the flip side, some of my friends would’ve had to look for alternative means to make money as their ‘Video Show Business’ would’ve not worked.  

The Communication Channel

The padipist (studious) guys could’ve used it to communicate with experts in the field from across the seven seas and get their doubts cleared. It would’ve also saved them all the money they otherwise spent on sending Masters Applications to the various Colleges around the world. They would’ve easily established connection with their super seniors through socialising sites like FB and got free help and advice for their Masters abroad.

The khurapat (mischievous) ones would’ve watched youtube videos and learnt a trick or two on ‘foolproof cheating in exams’.

Again, the khurapat boys would not have to raid the ‘Literary and Debating’ club notice board to pocket free pictures of their junior girls dancing. They could’ve easily downloaded it from the college website.  

Communication between the boys and girls hostels would have been free. The lover boys would’ve saved a lot of their allowance money by not dialling a certain number 3-5-1 for which an exorbitant Rs 4 was charged for every 3 minute call. It was expensive, and man did the hostel make a killing out of it!

Boys and girls could secretly fall into relationships (and also break off too) without anyone in the college knowing about it. No need to even talk to each other in the class.... Just go back to your hostel room, log in and fix a date, time and place and meet up. Wow! The guy could get onto one bus from Kattangal and the girl onto another from the Canteen and they could just meet up at their confidential point in the city with no one knowing about it. Wow again!

The desperate couples through their webcam enabled laptops would’ve broken all the barriers erected by our strict management. And with the broadcasting in view, the boys and girls would’ve always kept their rooms neat and tidy, especially ensuring that there are no undies hanging here and there.

What a loss!

Reality Bytes.

Most of my friends who met/talked to me since my last post were indifferent. Except for one, who went ahead and promoted it on his FB page, most of my regular readers seem to have not read it at all. Whilst some informed that they abandoned it halfway through after realising that it was too crass for their taste, someone, who read it full, felt that deep down inside I was a pervert of sorts and someone else was surprised and informed me that it was too brash of me to write such blogs with my wife and sisters as my regular readers. One of my friends even asked me to go ahead and write ‘some thing new’ so I have a new post just for the sake of it and that he doesn’t have to see those explosive pictures every time he opened my blog page.

Unarguably, my last post was the crudest one that I have ever written, but incidentally the last one week was also the most happening one on my blogsite and my research has left me more confused than ever.

Here are some of my findings and what I deciphered thereof:

·       The last post got 85 hits within a week, which made it the second most viewed (or should I conclude read) post on my blog.

Getting more hits on a post does not necessarily mean that it is a popular post, primarily because it does not conclude that someone who has visited the page has actually read and liked it. The hits could be coming from one of my FB friends who inadvertently clicked on the link that I posted. Yes, whilst most of the clicks came through FB, quite a few were also through Google. And believe it or not, my ‘stats’ say that, in the last week, the ‘search keywords’ amongst others have been ‘Shakeelachechi’ and ‘jacob nelson brahma blogspot’.

·         At least five people thought that the post was funny.

·        Since the last post, I got four votes for my blog on the website www.blogwriteraward.com

Well, the ‘like’ click could be a general ‘like’ on the blog and not for any particular post, but I like to believe that it was all for the last one, since all the clicks came after that post.

·   I have been blogging for almost 10months now and as at date, through the monetize section, I have now made an earnings of up to $4/-, 50% of which was made in the last week alone.

After I monetized my blogsite, I hadn’t set any specific rules or filters on the kind of advertisements that would appear on my page. I let the website intelligently manage it, which it does based on the blog content. It was indeed surprising for me to find out that I made around $2/- in a span of 7 days with my friends clicking on adverts relating to ‘adult dating’ and ‘online degree programmes’. I am pretty sure that none of my friends are in the need for online degrees, so what are they looking for?

So, what do I do now? Should I get sober and write only nice, acceptable, morally correct stuff and expect good comments or, should I get real dirty and look for making more money while my readers secretly 'like' my post and browse those explicit sites?

It is a pain to change one just to please the others, and so, I will refrain from inflicting any such change and rather maintain my despicable self. All that I can do now is add a forewarning to my blog. So, along with the Hinglish/Minglish blah blah which is actually my camouflaged alibi to cover up my grammatical errors, here’s one more, which says “I write without inhibitions, so please read responsibly”

Thanks

“Better to be genuine and outcast, than be fake and accepted”

-       Did I just say that?