Apr 29, 2012

Stuck on a Tricky Level

Nothing! Actually nothing was coming on my mind these days to scribble. I was wondering that how little experienced I am to not able to share something here which could have boosted the spirit of my readers. I have been writing for some years, but still I feel I have actually nothing to write here, but about useless puppy romances. When I wanted to write something, I often had to look back to my past days to find something entertaining. The present tense, as often felt by most members of the human species, is not a good time to live. I don’t know how many of my readers would agree to me at this point. But I think if most people have been thinking otherwise, that is, if they consider living in the present as pleasure, the phrases coined by several great ones advising the people to ‘live in the present’ would not have been spoken. They said so because they found that most people wanted to live in the past or dream about the future.

I feel embarrassed now; because I think, I have said some philosophical thoughts. Well, keeping philosophy in my mind is like a dog having an unhusked coconut; (it is a Malayalam proverb, by the way, directly translated to English). So I think what is appropriate to me is to look back to my college days. 

College days were not very much entertaining, from my point of view at least. But of course peeping into the lives and activities of my friends was enjoyable in a way. I had this friend at that time, who is mentioned in this blog as ‘Eccentric’ in several chapters. Though we were close friends, I was ignorant like many other classmates that he was in love with a girl with whom he was often seen in friendly chat sessions, which were mostly in the pretext of exchanging a note book or a poem that was written by one of them.

Being progressed in the middle of a strictly conservative society, which was about to break its moral sense any time, they both found it as a challenging task to create premises for their love nurturing sessions. However, they communicated through poems and secret diary scribbles and letters hidden in text books.

Let them love for some more time uninterrupted. I invite your valuable attention to my life and friends of that time. I had a local friend, whom you can find in this blog itself, if you browse back through its chapters, under the title of the young hypnotist. He was the one who had made me informed about the importance of being a hypnotist. Though not in my college, he was studying somewhere else, while continuing the pursuit of finding more clients for his hypnotism lessons. 

One day this fellow happened to see a girl, fair and lovely, elegant and beautiful; and yes, it was the same girl who was in a secret affair with my college mate. At the very moment he saw her, he felt that universal mysterious twitch in his heart. He wanted to express his love to her at any cost. Being slightly love shy, he took the resort of another friend to work as his messenger. It is to be mentioned that I was also approached by him to do the job of a messenger by telling his love to a different girl. But I was not ready; and the funny thing is that, seeing me with him for some days, that girl had begun to show signals of interest towards me.  

But in this case, lured by some offers by him, his friend prepared to exchange that love message. This guy one day met that girl, and pointing to my friend who was standing at a distance, he said her that the one who was standing there loved her. Her reply came in the next moment with some gestures of anger, 

“Rob, you don’t need to tell me this anymore!”, now we know clearly the reason for her quick rejection. Her ongoing affair with Eccentric surely could have been her reason for disgust. 

But the next day my local buddy happily greeted me and told what happened when his friend exchanged his love message. 

“What she meant was that she did not want to hear it from Rob. She might have wanted to hear it from me”.

Smilingly I nodded, wishing if I had half of the optimism that he had. 

So, now to the point that was mentioned in the beginning. Funny or interesting experiences might be happening around me now also when I write this. But, since I mostly want to retrospect like many others, the present day happenings might become a subject of my writings perhaps in the future. And I silently wish if none of you would ask me what happened to the triangular love story which I just have narrated. The rest of the story is better untold; and don’t even think that there happened something unhappy. Life always will give you surprises and pleasures in discolored bundles. Nowadays I am playing a lot of Angry Birds, and many of you now understand what inspired me to give such an unsuitable title to this tale.

Apr 11, 2012

Cellphone Story

I bought a new cellphone last month. The newly acquired one was not of my old usual kinds; but with its touch screen facilities, and android type options, you could really call it a gadget, with a capital G. I found it at the city’s busiest shopping mall, after a thorough search through newspaper ads, and after sharpening my ears for expert opinions. But before going to buy it, I had a plan to discuss the shopkeeper about some exchange options. If my existing cell phone, which had only some minor facilities, and which was cheaper, would help me to earn a few rupees, I would have thought about giving it to him to get the new cell phone at a price slightly (or greatly) lowered from its normal market price. Moreover, I didn’t find any reason in keeping that old cellphone with me when I was going to purchase an advanced one.

With these thoughts in mind, I set off during that hot noon time aiming that particular shop located in one of the busiest malls in my current city; and yes, exactly on my sincere bike!  But while approaching the destination, meters by meters, I found myself fallen in a deep pit of hesitation. Should I exchange my old cell phone, for just a few rupees, which could make only a minor sum, comparing to the fairly bigger amount that I was going to pay for the new one? The existing phone, though was an old one and was one of the cheapest ones of the whole lot of mobiles when it was bought, had been with me for nearly two years, giving me company often in my isolation, and in my private moments. I used to take a snap wherever I went or whoever I met, using its low quality camera, to keep a record of the time and places that I transited. These thoughts put my mind in a deep state of confusion, because of this particular kind of emotional attachment I used to share with any inanimate thing which I come into contact with for somewhat long period of time. But, the wheels of destiny led me without any breakage in my forward momentum till I reached the cellphone shop.
I asked the shopkeeper about a possible exchange option. He took my cell phone and scrutinized it for a moment by turning it over and over again. “Let me see”, he mused and went to another man who was sitting in one of the corners of the shop. I became very disturbed about the thought of a probable parting with my old device. He soon returned, and gave it me back, saying that it couldn’t be exchanged, because its inner parts were soaked. 

I sighed with relief, silently thanking to my one year old bike journey from Trivandrum to Cochin wetting in the rain all the way through some 200 kilometers. It was during that journey, my old cell phone had soaked wet in that rain, and thus became unusable for any shop owner who sought second hand cell phones.

Now, that old cell phone is thrown carelessly to one of the corners of my room, and is happily resting there while maintaining an old emotional, invisible, telepathic attachment with its master, like in the olden days.

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