Innocence. A quality exclusive to the very young. (Later, its called stupidity). A quality that is valued highly by everyone except the innocent one himself. Thats what makes babies as lovable even though they tear, burp, puke, piss, crap all over your new sweater. Try doing that at three for a flaming red bottom, and anytime after the age of six to ensure visits to the psychologist. But, in the tender years, it's even a good thing to be the target of the innocent bodily secretions in question.
baby aloque's parents shopping twenty two years ago.......
"hold him for a sec will you?":-)
"sure":-I
"hey, he peed all over me!":-))
"he loves you more than he loves me!":-(
"thats obvious!" *patting the wet patch proudly* "but have you noticed he ALWAYS does it when we come to the book-store?"
Figments of my imagination apart, here is what I know. I only remember the loss of innocence. These are the moments of new perspective, changes, growing up and so on. Only the parents are sighing about me growing up too soon, learning cuss words at an alarming rate.
Only parents to tell me how innocent I was. About my bisyllablic conversations of "vasthaava?(won't you come)" and "kodatha!(will hit you)" with the kite that was stuck in the tree in our courtyard.
About not caring about 12" long pig tails by the time I was 2. (my mom wanted a girl!)
About when I politely inquired if we were sitting in a large bus at my first movie theater experience at 3.
Simple is as simple does.
Here is what I remember. Glorious moments of discovery!
We had a broken down car back then and all the kids in the colony would take turns to sit at the wheel and furiously hurtle down imaginary streets at breakneck speeds while the rest of us pondered the life altering decisions the umpire inflicted on us in the just concluded cricket match. No girls allowed of course! They didn't care but we just wanted to antagonize!
Once, an older boy told us how babies were made. In retrospect, a technique which could end the human race as a result of wrong orifices and sore backsides. Later, he got to drive the car all evening while we were gagging in the back seat. But we were irreversibly perverted. None of our parents would be patting an innocent little head anymore!
I think i was about 8 when I mouthed the first F U in front of my dad. Of course, I didn't know what it meant but the colours that were rapidly changing on his face and his legendary flaring nostrils ensured i would use it in plentiful quantities, although away from the reach of hands that want to twist ears.
Of all the trouble we went through to keep the girls out of our car, my first crush was not without irony. When I was about 8, we had a carpool to go to school and there was a girl, lets call her A. She always chose the seat by the window and three little boys making stinky faces whenever they had to sit next to her, each secretly glad ( I was!). I even devised a game where we had to pretend that inertia was totally in control of our bodies and we would fall away and over each time the car negotiated a curve and i always liked the left handed curves more than the right handed ones. Sometimes, I just cheated inertia and acted 'innocent'!!
got to stop some time. and now, before you are subjected to the unpleasant story of the discovery of puberty, seems as good a time as any!
i refuse to say anything... because as you grew up you also lost the power to take compliments. so, your post sucks!... so there! :p
scalded by the mighty teapot!!
:-D