I have often pondered on certain relationships and there peculiar occurrence. They can't really be classified under a regular name like let's say a friendship or something to that affect.The person just happens to be around and you are associated only due to the proximity you share. Beyond that there is really nothing concrete to write home about, either about the person or the relationship. The best part is that the person keeps popping in and out of your life and now with the communication age he's just a facebook message away.
All through kindergarten up to the fifth grade i used the, matador, school van to commute. This meant that all of us boys and girls, us and the girls from cjm, were in a cocooned and isolated circle away from the seniors. During this time a chap whose name I'll reserve for obvious reasons would travel with me to and from school everyday up to the second grade. We were in the same batch albeit in different classes. Our real interaction happened only in that matador. The memory i have from this pop-in number one is that i invariably would get into a fight with this chap and would beat the shit out of him in the morning. During the half hour recess at school he would gather a couple of his classmates who would find me and beat the shit out of me. Guess what i was doing when we were going back home?
Anyhow, time went by. I moved into the school bus and by the time i was in the sixth grade i had completely forgotten about this chap's existence. Growing up is always eventful and i had a fucking ball! In the ninth grade a 'moment of clarity' occurred. You see we had to choose between two vocational courses. One was the choice between Hindi and Sanskrit. Two was the choice between computer science and craft. Obviously computers but because of my Sanskrit teacher coaxing me into it, i made a stupid choice in Sanskrit. In hindsight it was one of the best things that happened to me. Two days into the new term and i was like fuck this shit man i need Hindi. I was given Hindi after a little running around but my class section had to be changed 'cause the current section, that i had grown up with, was now a Sanskrit only batch.
After six years i was sitting in exactly the same section as the chap! Pop-in number two. We hit it off like two long lost girlfriends - r u freaking kidding me?! Anyway the year was spent making new friends and breaking into the friendships that had existed from kindergarten. By the time the year was ending i was very confident that these boys should have happened to me a long time ago! The chap, no doubt, was lurking in the shadows all along.
A couple of weeks before our final exams were about to start, somehow, the chap decides that he is close enough to me for him to be able to invite me over to his house and spend the Saturday with him. I accepted with an ulterior motive - another classmate lived in the vicinity and i had to work towards making him my tennis partner and i knew we were gonna go and pay him a visit. Not a bad day overall and the only other person in the chap's house was his 80 year old grandma.
By the end of the end we were chilling on the computer - in what he had clearly told me was his room - playing games and the like. Here the chap acts real cool and brings out this 'office file' to show me. He had gone through the pains of cutting each page very carefully and then place them inside the plastic jackets of the file. Thus transforming the really dirty, and i mean really hardcore porn dirty, magazine into an innocuous looking file that he may be using for his schoolwork. Good job i say!
But you see me being me, i couldn't help controlling myself. At a very opportune moment the chap's grandma calls him away for some chore and he leaves telling me to bolt the door just in case. Excellent! I quickly pulled out a few very hardcore centerspreads and placed them along the length of the bed under the bed cover. A little while later i left and pretty much forgot about the whole thing.
One afternoon, a few days later, i get a call from a person who said i am the chap's grandma speaking, you know the one you met the other day and all that. The chap did such a sad job of imitating his grandma that even my dog could have told the difference through the phone. Anyway, this grandma goes on to tell about what a terrible thing i have done. I had no idea what she was talking about and she never once mentioned exactly what she was referring to. The next day was our final English paper. I met the chap outside the classroom just before the paper was to start in the morning. He looked like he needed to catch up on a weeks sleep! I was like what's wrong mate? He explained to me how the house was being painted, how the painters had shown his mother what was underneath the bed cover, how she had freaked out, how his dad had beaten him with his shoe, how his grandma nearly had a heart attack 'cause of the way he was beaten, how he hadn't been able to sleep for 5 nights and how he had not studied for today's paper.
I was like dude hang on, you had told me very clearly that the room was yours so very obviously the bed was yours in which you would go to sleep at night! It was also very cheap for you to have called me trying to imitate you grandma and giving me all that spiel! Finally i said to him chill out man - it's only an English exam!
All through kindergarten up to the fifth grade i used the, matador, school van to commute. This meant that all of us boys and girls, us and the girls from cjm, were in a cocooned and isolated circle away from the seniors. During this time a chap whose name I'll reserve for obvious reasons would travel with me to and from school everyday up to the second grade. We were in the same batch albeit in different classes. Our real interaction happened only in that matador. The memory i have from this pop-in number one is that i invariably would get into a fight with this chap and would beat the shit out of him in the morning. During the half hour recess at school he would gather a couple of his classmates who would find me and beat the shit out of me. Guess what i was doing when we were going back home?
Anyhow, time went by. I moved into the school bus and by the time i was in the sixth grade i had completely forgotten about this chap's existence. Growing up is always eventful and i had a fucking ball! In the ninth grade a 'moment of clarity' occurred. You see we had to choose between two vocational courses. One was the choice between Hindi and Sanskrit. Two was the choice between computer science and craft. Obviously computers but because of my Sanskrit teacher coaxing me into it, i made a stupid choice in Sanskrit. In hindsight it was one of the best things that happened to me. Two days into the new term and i was like fuck this shit man i need Hindi. I was given Hindi after a little running around but my class section had to be changed 'cause the current section, that i had grown up with, was now a Sanskrit only batch.
After six years i was sitting in exactly the same section as the chap! Pop-in number two. We hit it off like two long lost girlfriends - r u freaking kidding me?! Anyway the year was spent making new friends and breaking into the friendships that had existed from kindergarten. By the time the year was ending i was very confident that these boys should have happened to me a long time ago! The chap, no doubt, was lurking in the shadows all along.
A couple of weeks before our final exams were about to start, somehow, the chap decides that he is close enough to me for him to be able to invite me over to his house and spend the Saturday with him. I accepted with an ulterior motive - another classmate lived in the vicinity and i had to work towards making him my tennis partner and i knew we were gonna go and pay him a visit. Not a bad day overall and the only other person in the chap's house was his 80 year old grandma.
By the end of the end we were chilling on the computer - in what he had clearly told me was his room - playing games and the like. Here the chap acts real cool and brings out this 'office file' to show me. He had gone through the pains of cutting each page very carefully and then place them inside the plastic jackets of the file. Thus transforming the really dirty, and i mean really hardcore porn dirty, magazine into an innocuous looking file that he may be using for his schoolwork. Good job i say!
But you see me being me, i couldn't help controlling myself. At a very opportune moment the chap's grandma calls him away for some chore and he leaves telling me to bolt the door just in case. Excellent! I quickly pulled out a few very hardcore centerspreads and placed them along the length of the bed under the bed cover. A little while later i left and pretty much forgot about the whole thing.
One afternoon, a few days later, i get a call from a person who said i am the chap's grandma speaking, you know the one you met the other day and all that. The chap did such a sad job of imitating his grandma that even my dog could have told the difference through the phone. Anyway, this grandma goes on to tell about what a terrible thing i have done. I had no idea what she was talking about and she never once mentioned exactly what she was referring to. The next day was our final English paper. I met the chap outside the classroom just before the paper was to start in the morning. He looked like he needed to catch up on a weeks sleep! I was like what's wrong mate? He explained to me how the house was being painted, how the painters had shown his mother what was underneath the bed cover, how she had freaked out, how his dad had beaten him with his shoe, how his grandma nearly had a heart attack 'cause of the way he was beaten, how he hadn't been able to sleep for 5 nights and how he had not studied for today's paper.
I was like dude hang on, you had told me very clearly that the room was yours so very obviously the bed was yours in which you would go to sleep at night! It was also very cheap for you to have called me trying to imitate you grandma and giving me all that spiel! Finally i said to him chill out man - it's only an English exam!
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