I am going to record a story that can be used to embarrass and humiliate me to the ends of the earth. Let us all take a moment to appreciate my bravado in committing this to the never-forgetting dark world of the internet. That too, in my own words.
Here goes.
It was a school day and I was back home after another set of repetitions of "Good Morniiiiiiiing Teacher" and "Thank Youuuuu Teacher". Those were the days when I thought 'Sit straight' was 'Six Rate' and 'Thorough' was 'Tharo' - something as firm as the ground (thara) - and we should learn everything 'tharoly'/firmly. Among those unalterable beliefs, was another one. There was no need to take bath everyday. Unfortunately no one else in my family shared any of those beliefs.
So, on that fateful evening, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I decided to shut myself up so that they cannot make me take bath. And the ever so smart me found the perfect place to hide. The torture cell itself - aka The Bathroom. The dreaded call came "Ansuuuu.. Kulikkan va" and I ran to the bathroom. Everyone must have been surprised at my enthusiasm that day but only I knew the reason. Once I was safely inside the bathroom, I slid the latch closed firmly and grinned ear to ear. Mission Accomplished.
My intelligence did not stretch far enough to think of what happens next or how I will spend the time locked inside a bathroom. I didn't even plan ahead as to how long I will stay inside or how to safely negotiate my way outside to escape from the consequences. After all, I was only 7 years old.
My sister waited outside for some time thinking that this was a short lived game and I will open the door after a few minutes. But even for the lack of all my plans, I was adamant about one thing. That no matter what or who or how, I. Will. Not. Open. The. Door. And so it began.
I do not know what all transpired in the wide world outside the bathroom but I spent my time inside it happily playing with the bucket and the mug and the water. But then comes the twist in the story. This bathroom had one shortcoming - its door ended a few inches below the roof. Yes, there was a not-so-wide opening above its door which proved to be my enemy. Through it came my brother, slick as a snake and probably as angry as one too. I cannot fathom now how he managed it, but he landed in my hitherto secure fort and unlatched it as easy as anything.
From this point, I don't remember much. I probably had a good long bath that day. Since then, I have not attempted any such dramatics. So I probably got an earful as well. But I still remember how my brother braved that tiny space and came to rescue me. Hopefully, my family believes that I unknowingly latched myself inside and couldn't undo it. But I don't think so. For better or worse, they know me better than I know myself. Thank God for that!
Here goes.
It was a school day and I was back home after another set of repetitions of "Good Morniiiiiiiing Teacher" and "Thank Youuuuu Teacher". Those were the days when I thought 'Sit straight' was 'Six Rate' and 'Thorough' was 'Tharo' - something as firm as the ground (thara) - and we should learn everything 'tharoly'/firmly. Among those unalterable beliefs, was another one. There was no need to take bath everyday. Unfortunately no one else in my family shared any of those beliefs.
So, on that fateful evening, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I decided to shut myself up so that they cannot make me take bath. And the ever so smart me found the perfect place to hide. The torture cell itself - aka The Bathroom. The dreaded call came "Ansuuuu.. Kulikkan va" and I ran to the bathroom. Everyone must have been surprised at my enthusiasm that day but only I knew the reason. Once I was safely inside the bathroom, I slid the latch closed firmly and grinned ear to ear. Mission Accomplished.
My intelligence did not stretch far enough to think of what happens next or how I will spend the time locked inside a bathroom. I didn't even plan ahead as to how long I will stay inside or how to safely negotiate my way outside to escape from the consequences. After all, I was only 7 years old.
My sister waited outside for some time thinking that this was a short lived game and I will open the door after a few minutes. But even for the lack of all my plans, I was adamant about one thing. That no matter what or who or how, I. Will. Not. Open. The. Door. And so it began.
I do not know what all transpired in the wide world outside the bathroom but I spent my time inside it happily playing with the bucket and the mug and the water. But then comes the twist in the story. This bathroom had one shortcoming - its door ended a few inches below the roof. Yes, there was a not-so-wide opening above its door which proved to be my enemy. Through it came my brother, slick as a snake and probably as angry as one too. I cannot fathom now how he managed it, but he landed in my hitherto secure fort and unlatched it as easy as anything.
From this point, I don't remember much. I probably had a good long bath that day. Since then, I have not attempted any such dramatics. So I probably got an earful as well. But I still remember how my brother braved that tiny space and came to rescue me. Hopefully, my family believes that I unknowingly latched myself inside and couldn't undo it. But I don't think so. For better or worse, they know me better than I know myself. Thank God for that!
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