Comebacks and family

I am sorry dear readers, for already failing my promise to write at least three times a week if not more and it’s been so long since I last wrote here. Yes I never made any staunch promises or written vows – you might wonder when did I mention this, but that’s what I had in my mind when I started off writing this blog. In my defense, all I can say is that I had once mentioned that I would like to make this into something like a virtual diary where writing was more important than who read. And that again I must admit that even within these few days I have had readers years older than me, dropping by my blog and even taking the trouble to leave their comments, helping me sort out how to write and then maintain a blog. There are others who have left encouraging comments and then there has been my good old cousin who still keeps her hopes up regarding this blog and of course me.

Coming to the present scenario in my life, I just managed to earn a massive compliment from my Aunt when she said that I have mastered the art of playing sitar (beginner’s level) and am qualified to move on to my next level of training. Here let me tell you all the story of my family. My grandfather was a Physiologist who also took a keen interest in music and played the Sitar as well. He made sure that his children also got a chance to get a shot at playing some instrument or singing. My oldest Aunt plays the Sitar – she is the one teaching me to play the Sitar. If she wanted she could have taken music as her chosen career because she was quite good at it and even played for the All India Radio from the early age of eight or even less I think. My other aunt used to sing, but yes, it is referred to in our family in past tense (pun intended). My uncle played the Tabla (the classical Indian percussion) and still does. My Dad used to play the Sarod but that again is referred to in past tense. So you see in my family, at least my father’s side everybody is quite musically inclined. My two cousins – one plays the Esraj and the other one dances.

Nobody thought that I could get myself to sit down and learn how to play the Sitar, let alone play and play well on top of that. My half chopped scarred finger was now starting to give trouble. Soon after the operation when the wounds healed we noticed that I couldn’t straighten my finger. The doc told us that the ligament has dried up and was shriveling which was pulling the finger back and therefore I couldn’t straighten it. A lot of things were tried. Doctors even suggested physiotherapy but I was an impatient kid. Soon my parents’ patience wore out – Dad having to make both ends meet bringing up three kids with a sales job and Mum trying to juggle school and our lives. That’s when my Aunt suggested that we try Sitar. That way I will learn to play an instrument as well as be able to exercise and stretch my finger.

It’s been two years now and I can see the improvement myself. I can stretch my finger much more than I could in the beginning. Also, I have overheard people saying that I have become a lot more patient, can concentrate better and of course can play the Sitar quite well for my age. I think that’s where family comes into the picture. We may all live separately but we are always there next to each other in good times as well as the bad. We take these things for granted most of the time but I think it’s something I can easily forget. Obviously I don’t say it out aloud but I definitely feel it.

First comment and school in general

I am extremely happy today. I have gotten my first comments on my blog. I have been posting only for the last few days and I already have someone reading my blog and leaving comments. My cousin has been encouraging me all the while, but to tell the truth it is quite boring and a little heart-wrenching that no one other than my cousin visit my blog. But the cluster map shows some more people here and there in the country. However, it quite funnily failed to detect the presence of my first commentor (is that how it is spelt? - hello I am a ten year old... I must be excused!)


Outside my blog life, things are quite the usual. School was the usual with another heart stopping moment in math class when Sobuj Sir was almost about to land a missile-like rap on my knuckles. That's one of the many ways of tackling a bunch of will-go-out-of-hand-anytime ten year olds. If you are found talking in class he will swoop down from nowhere and then knock our heads with each other. If he is busy scribbling boring numbers on the blackboard and cannot easily reach us, he will turn and throw the piece of chalk that he is holding in the direction of the sound or rather the whisper or the hum. We all agree that he would have been quite asset for the Indian cricket team who, off late, have been quite lousy on field, especially while pulling off the perfect direct hits. Thus, for us he is the unsung hero!

Kickstarting life

Hi. I am Ronnie and I just turned ten this winter. To commemorate this ‘oh-so-grand’ occasion, my cousin, who is way too old for me for anything sane to be exchanged between us, lavishly gifted me this space – where? In cyber space! She said she got this brilliant idea from a newspaper article she read about this really old Spanish lady, who was supposed to be the world’s oldest blogger. She was quite popular too, as she narrated stories that have gone into the pages of history - from her own experiences. So my cousin, who thinks I am going to be this great whatever, thought not to waste too many years (waiting till I turned really old and gnarled) and kick-start at an early age. After all this is the age where people are doing things way before their forefathers even thought of doing (and yeah I include almost everything you have in your mind right now).

But for me, having spent only a decade in this world, which others think has loads of things on offer if you can manage to grab hold of it, I don’t have much to say. Oh yes, I have loads to say about ‘my world’. But who thinks that’s cool enough?

Look at Mum and Dad. I know they love me and all, but do they ever take anything I say seriously? Like the other day, when I said old Mrs. Ray looks a little unlike herself. Nobody even batted an eyelid. Two days later when news got around that she passed away quietly in her sleep, everybody said that they never got any inkling that something might be wrong. Hello???

Just another day, I managed to extract a face-wipe from my cousin (this is the same one who thought she was too kind to give me some space somewhere), I realized I didn’t have anywhere to keep which I can call mine. With just two rooms and three siblings and throw in a huge dog, it is really difficult to call anywhere your own. Rather it is everyone’s. Even my school bag, which was the last piece of anything on which I thought I had the sole proprietorship, slipped out of my fingers. Why? You want to know why? Our dog Rex, who Mum says is the best behaved in the entire lot, was peeping very interestedly into my school bag. That was the moment - I knew it - that I lost the one thing I could call my own. Next day, as (only) I expected, the bag went missing only to be found in a rather sorry state. And yet Rex gets to be crowned as the best-behaved one in the house.

I know I have a very colourful record of managing to do a whole lot of things that many may get a heart attack while just listening to the narration. Like when I shattered the glass doors of the bookcase in the living-room. I was thrilled, considering that I managed to something as spectacular when I was just one and half years old. But the icing on the cake or the best one so far (oh yeah I am planning to come up with some more awesome stunts) jumped from the table and landed on an open knife and managed to almost chop off my own middle finger (I don’t know why my cousin thinks that it is highly ironic). It bled a lot. Quite gory, I must say! Mum ran around like crazy. Dad was trying to be brave but Mum stole the show for me that day. Hands down. Got a few stitches done. Today I am the only one in my gang who can flaunt a crooked finger and a long scar right down my left arm. Cool ain’t it?

So this is me. I am just the kid next door, with an extra dash of energy. I live happily in this small house with my mum, dad and two very irritating sisters, one of which is my twin – I just wonder how! I go to school like any other kid, braving the taunts of the school bully, who is the only one still unimpressed with my crooked thumb and scar. My Dad is a hardworking employee of a pharmaceutical company (his work is to sell medicine to doctors) and my mum is a homemaker. We have our ups and downs but we scrape through. Each day is therefore something to look forward to, a battle to be won at the end of it. From today, I shall give you a sneak peek into my world and share it with you, ‘coz if I am really going to be famous one day, I better start working on it as soon as possible and now seems to be the best time!

Anyway, happy birthday to me!!