12 February 2014

In the neighbourhood- Part three

Links to Part 1 and Part 2.             In the neighbourhood-Part 1              In the neighbourhood-Part 2

So :) Here is part three. In case anyone's wondering, yes I did drop off two t shirts to the little fella. G refused to come with me, being the bashful sort a surprising trait to have for my offspring. I set off with my bike feeling a bit awkward. We had been looking at them from two floors above and now here I was reducing that distance all of a sudden.
                               Skirting around a narrow mud lane, riding over rubble and weeds when I reached the tenement it took me a few minutes to figure out this was the same place. It all looked smaller and shabbier up close.
Handing over the plastic bag to Bustu's mum and having her flash me a smile I turned to Bustu for some signs of recognition. The lack of distance had affected him. He only looked at me woodenly. By now the whole experience became too overpowering to handle and I dashed back home. By the way all through G and her dad had stood in the balcony watching and grinning.
                               Much older now Bustu seems to have learnt the ways of the people around him. One can often see him snatching at things held by other babies younger than him. Another development is that he's seen almost fully clothed nowadays. The two t-shirts have disappeared without trace.
***********************************************************************************
One sunset a few years back- Henley Beach Adelaide
***********************************************************************************
The park in our suburb same as the million parks all over India is infested by all kinds of people every morning. Tall, short, fat, thin, crooked, straight, serious, chatty- there's a specimen of each kind- walking. Some sport flat hawaianas, some heeled footwear and some sports shoes.
          Each has his or her unique walking style. A few sporty ones jog, a few walk straight as ramrods, some shake their arms with such gusto (their doctors must have asked them to shake their arms as they walk) that one wonders they don't get shoulder aches. A few hop along, a few hobble along and there are many with their faces set in determination and they look like they are out to win a war or something.
                 There are groups of women chatting away merrily, groups of men and single men whose sole interest is the women that are walking and a huge number has that abominable gadget-the mobile phone, flattened against the side of their head the whole time.
Everyday I watch, absorb and enjoy the milling masses that throng the park and return home refreshed with these sights and a drink of tender coconut.

Post a Comment