The Ringside View

My attempts at writing have always been stacked up in old diaries and scraps of yellowing paper.Time,neglect and phylum insecta however, always ensured that the gibberish i scrawled, never would see the prying gaze of an alien eye.Years later, i still scribble once in a while - this time in word documents stored in some obscure folder somewhere in the innards of my C drive.I am unearthing some of them and opening them up for the interested.To get what i call - The Ringside view.

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Location: Bangalore, Karnataka, India

Sunday, November 18, 2007

The weather man up there is a sadist

The clouds rolled in from the west; from the east; from a hundred different directions – dark and vicious. And when they collided with one another, a great rumbling happened. Why does the great rumbling happen when two fluffy blobs of cotton clouds collide, I ruminated? Wind swept scraps of paper and sent them twirling into the sky like confetti. Tree branches swayed like possessed dancers. And then it rained. Big, fat drops pounding into the dry earth, whipping up that sweet smell of wet sand. I peered out of the window. The kids playing cricket had disbanded their stone slab wicket and run for cover. The banana seller was frantically pulling a blue polythene cover over his cart. The boys from the dhobi ghat scampered making vain attempts at saving their just dried clothes from the clothesline. It was sudden. One drop followed another in a rapid free fall. In a few minutes, the flat in front of me had turned colour. Damp dark patches conquering the wall space in a hurry. Small puddles formed on the ground. And then they merged in magnetic alacrity with other small puddles; becoming bigger pools of water. Mother was asleep; after endless hours in the kitchen. I seized the opportunity to tiptoe to the kitchen for hidden treasures. Why does she always keep the green box with the goodies in it on the top shelf, I wonder?

I tiptoed many more times. Treading the tightrope that separated calculated risk from sure shot hara-kiri. And through all the misadventures, it had continued raining. The storm drains in the distance were overflowing. Muddy water was gushing down like in Noah’s times. The rain showed a few promising signs of petering down giving the neighborhood brats an opportunity to vet their maritime skills. Paper boats were gliding downstream one after the other like in the Pirates of the Caribbean. Everything was beginning to look washed and new. Father would be back from work at five. And just when it seemed like a well timed shower, at ten minutes to five it started all over again. Why can it not wait a bit, I cringed and wondered. Why can it not stop for a while, just so that father can walk back home from the bus stop. So that I don’t have to go, one umbrella aloft, another one in hand, because father had not bothered taking one to office again. And this, despite his perpetual paranoia for impending thunderstorms. But it is all mere wishful thinking. The rain kept penciling down in sheer dissent.

‘Just take the umbrella and go will you’, mother shouted out from the kitchen. ‘It’s time for your father to be back’.

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And I am pretty convinced the weatherman up there, controlling the shower knob has a skewed sense of humour. Who does not like the idea of me tucked up cozy with handfuls of thieved butter biscuits. And so I go through the cold and unwelcome ordeal. Jumping over puddles; making vain attempts at keeping myself dry as every passing automobile plays splash-splash. But when I get back, trouser bottom irritatingly wet and all, it’s all over. The knobs have been turned off. Can’t help but bloody ask – Why does it have to rain at 5 o clock only?

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10 Comments:

Blogger Bikerdude said...

Ah! Good old Bangalore office-goers rain. Try biking in it.

Or even better still, arriving at work dripping wet, with the sun out, bright and shiny :P

November 18, 2007 11:14 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

:-) Weather man wants you to enjoy the rain.
Rains are fun when you are at ur grandparents place somewhere far away from the noise of the city..

November 19, 2007 6:38 AM  
Anonymous CresceNet said...

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November 19, 2007 9:29 AM  
Anonymous CresceNet said...

Oi, achei seu blog pelo google está bem interessante gostei desse post. Gostaria de falar sobre o CresceNet. O CresceNet é um provedor de internet discada que remunera seus usuários pelo tempo conectado. Exatamente isso que você leu, estão pagando para você conectar. O provedor paga 20 centavos por hora de conexão discada com ligação local para mais de 2100 cidades do Brasil. O CresceNet tem um acelerador de conexão, que deixa sua conexão até 10 vezes mais rápida. Quem utiliza banda larga pode lucrar também, basta se cadastrar no CresceNet e quando for dormir conectar por discada, é possível pagar a ADSL só com o dinheiro da discada. Nos horários de minuto único o gasto com telefone é mínimo e a remuneração do CresceNet generosa. Se você quiser linkar o Cresce.Net(www.provedorcrescenet.com) no seu blog eu ficaria agradecido, até mais e sucesso. If is possible add the CresceNet(www.provedorcrescenet.com) in your blogroll, I thank. Good bye friend.

November 19, 2007 9:29 AM  
Blogger Bikerdude said...

Basically your spamster is saying : Oye, ache se blog jaldi likhna nahin toh I will hack you to pieces with my crescenet shaped sickle.

So take the hint buster ;)

November 20, 2007 8:59 PM  
Blogger Naveen said...

aaaaaaaaah...those days! there used to be a time when i used to love rain! nowadays i feel like going up there and turning god's water supply off!! hate it especially when it rains after it has snowed..YUCCCCCKKKKK!!

November 21, 2007 9:10 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

How abt relaxing on a easy chair n sipping coffee lookin @ the rain which showers through green leaves say arnd 5pm in the veranda of a village house ?
--Bebo

November 24, 2007 12:00 PM  
Blogger Pri said...

its sunday again and im sure you're sulking cause u have to go to work tomorrow and i just wanted to take this opportunity to inform u that i do not have to be at work tomorrow. muahahahahaha!

November 25, 2007 11:13 AM  
Blogger Preeth said...

@bikerdude -> It rains always here in the Isles. But not once have I whiffed the sweet sand smell.Wonder why?

And btw,any idea what the Spaniard wanted? Bro, can you please tell him Im fine thank you.

@Naveen -> analysis says uv turned realist from romantic. Age I say.hehe.

@anony/@Bebo -> I agree totally. Its fun.

@Pri -> Muhahaha. For reasons conveyed via mail.

November 25, 2007 12:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Actually Spammer dude was Portuguese...

"Oi, I found its blog for google is well interesting I liked this post. It would like to speak on the CresceNet. The CresceNet is a dialed supplier of InterNet that remunerates its users for the hardwired time. Accurately this that you read, is paying you to connect. The paid supplier 20 cents for the moment of connection dialed with local linking for more than 2100 cities of Brazil. The CresceNet has a connection accelerator, that leaves its faster connection up to 10 times. Who uses broad band can also profit, is enough to register in cadastre itself in the CresceNet and when it will be to sleep to connect for dialed, it is possible to pay the ADSL alone with the money of the dialed one. In the schedules of only minute the expense with telephone is minimum and the remuneration of the generous CresceNet. If you to want to linkar the Cresce.Net"

Rick

January 04, 2008 5:29 AM  

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