When i was a soft clay...

No one was sure if I should be given birth or not, except my parents. They were advised to abort the innocent foetus, due to medical reasons, even before allowing it to see the creations of the almighty. I thank my courageous and selfless parents for letting me see this beautiful world which does have its share of curse and gloominess. It was difficult times for my family as my birth coincided with the death of my aunty - pa's most lovable sister and for these reasons, i spent my initial days in the warm caring laps of my granny. May be this is the reason i am so attached with them, i look like my nana and so on. I was awed by the love, care and affection i received from everyone. It made me think "am i special"...certainly not...but for them...certainly :D.

I don't remember if i ever fed myself on my own there. And why should i take the pain to move my hands and bring it up to my mouth, my mausi would do that for me ;). This raja babu affair used to end as soon as we boarded the unclean and rusty UP roadways bus for Obra. Do you think it felt bad ??? Not really, as like all fairy tales, holidays also do end.

I grew up reading stories on the great Shravan Kumar who died serving his parents, the epics of Ramayana and Mahabharata, stories of freedom fighters and many more inspiring stuff. While others read it for fun or academics, i did it to shape the clay in me. Most of my time was spent on doing household chores, watering the plants and plucking raw mangoes on delicate branches of the mango tree in our courtyard. Why i loved those days...because there was always an incentive to do something....a pat for a job done well or a spank for doing something undesirable. These things differentiated us (my brother too) from our peers as we were perceived to be the most sincere and responsible kids in the entire colony.

You might feel "what the hell is this post about??"....brother, this is not to let you know how i grew up...this is to thank my ma pa to make us what we are!!

Brat the Kid !!