• Flapping Wings

    There are seventy five families living in my building and each day I come across some of them who make me smile. The BFG is one of them

    I went down to pick up Wow Dinga and came across the BFG who was ambling along in his usual way, body tilted slightly to the back, his huge strides supported by a walking stick, his mouth open to take in deep breaths which he obviously couldn’t despite his large nose. Besides him was his son-in-law talking to someone on the other end of his mobile – possibly his wife who was giving him the last minute instructions on what to do with Daddy.

    Daddy or the BFG has been living by himself for over three decades now, ever since his wife died and has gone about his business very unobtrusively. He hardly talks to any of us, but always nods in greeting and on the occasional times he talks to us, I can hardly understand his mumble.

    But today he looked visibly disturbed and I asked him what the matter was. He brought himself to a halt before me, took a deep breath and expanded his hands in a wide wingspan indicating that he was attacked by an eagle this big and it pecked the tip of his finger so he was being taken to the doctor for an injection.

    Saying this, he flapped his arms and went off.

    This is my post for the Write Tribe  ProBloggers September Challenge.

  • Fleeting rainbows

    When the monsoons are about to end we often have days of brilliant sunshine with the occasional rain shower. That’s when we get rainbows so faint and fragile that you almost miss them in the bright sunshine. There’s nothing so thrilling as catching the fleeting beauty of this gorgeous swathe of colour as it sweeps across my Mumbai sky.
    These transient rainbows that are hard to spot serve to remind me that there’s always a rainbow somewhere in the sky. We just have to look for them.

    This is my post for the Write Tribe ProBlogger September Challenge

    For more skies around the world go visit skyley.blogspot.com

  • This morning’s peace was shattered not in the usual way with screeching brakes or honking horns, but with the shouts of Lef, Lef, Lef, Rye, Lef. Indeed, I realised how soon yet another academic year has passed us by when  the girls in the school opposite begin their marching practice for the Inter-Schools Athletic meet which is held some time in January ( I think) . Now is the time to start preparing and they prepare in right earnest!

    I’ve always hated Marching and questioned its utility in the schoolchildren context. It seems such a pointless exercise. In fact for several years I used to think that the girls were not only bad marchers but dumb as well as they said left and put their right foot forward. That was till I realised that since light travels faster than sound , what seemed like wrong was actually right and that I was the one who was dumb!

    But, I still find marching the most useless activity for school children. I mean whoever hears of conquering armies marching these days – they trundle in in huge , intimidating trucks, or they are air dropped with parachutes or sent in covertly by sea.

    All that Marching seems to have instilled in me is a deep, dread of the tyrannical house captain who screamed louder than a sergeant major when any of us was not in line. Similarly, as a grown woman, I was terrorised by my daughter’s first House Captain – a thin little anorexic girl who chilled every mother’s heart with her scornful glare should a child come late for Marching Practice.In retrospect I wonder how I could be scared of her, but believe you me, I truly was.

    This is my post for Write Tribe ProBlogger September Challenge.

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