ramilaben and ratatouille

what terrible business this growing up is..you have to pretend that you know everything and that you are adept at handling all things. You suddenly become the expert...the know-it-all. When there is a job to be done, you are there coz you know it all...and then suddenly out of the blue, one day a small boy starts crying coz he has lost his orange coloured bournvita power watch. With all the knowledge and wisdom on this planet you cannot fathom that why the boy will cry and break everything and will not settle for anything less than the watch that he had. Nothing will pacify him and your ideas about the world, about politics, about culture, about people fly out of the window. You are helpless and at a loss for words or action and then you suddenly realize that ramilaben is watching ratatouille....

A blank white sheet of paper blowing away in the wind. What does that remind you of ?

Today morning I again looked at the jhaadoo that is stuck at the top of our lift. Living on the topmost floor of my building has its advantages too…you see. The broom reminded me of the way I would write autobiographies as a child. Autobiography of a watch, which would travel from a showroom to a wrist and then trampled upon and then finally back to its owner resplendent with shining glass and a twinkling strap. Hold on , does it sound like a formula movie ? was I too obsessed as a child with happy endings...maybe or maybe not …but yea I liked to shut myself in closets and sit for hours..it was fun, the darkness like a secret room inside. Maybe am still in a closet…who knows