Story of a shabby sweater...
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This was written by me on 29th December 2005 on IFF...
staring at the unbecoming muddy green (ewwww) sweater i had on while on cam, the story of it's entry into my life flashed back.
i usually detest and don't wear sweaters unless absolutely necessary, the reason why i only owned one, a smart double sided one.
i was travelling on Rajhdahani Express to drop my dottie (daughter) back after the winter vacations on 31st December 2003. As the train passed towns closer to New Delhi, people commented it was raining outside.
as it is, Delhi winters can chill the bones, and when we stepped out of the temperature controlled airconditioned compartment, we were hit by a chill which shook me the way even malaria chills don't.
we retreated back inside and i fished out her additional warm clothes to truss her up like an eskimo. then when i unzipped my duffel bag.....horrors
in the rush while packing, and the fact that i was returning the very next day, i had only packed 2 shirts and some underwear.
i called Delhi and people told me even horny street dogs have their erections frozen midway due to the chilly rain and strong winds. i panicked, visualising a 25 km ride in an open autorickshaw at speeds only Delhi drivers can pile on.
a young doctor from Defence Colony offered me a jacket, since he had a woolen one and a thick synthetic one for wet weather. i declined because if i took his synthetic one the woolen one would get spoilt in the incessant rains, and similar arguement for me not accepting the woolen one too.
i put on one extra flimsy shirt over the one i was wearing and on stepping out on the platform of the New Delhi railway station, i felt like the destitute homeless people freezing in the driving winds.
my 8 year old dottie in her unimitable style, came up with her bright idea ... said she would sit on my lap and keep pappa warm by sheilding me from the cold winds. we boarded a pre-paid auto with me close to losing sensation in my exposed hands and face, and to top it all my head and my shirt getting drenched in the strong drizzle.
this amazingly intelligent and resilient girl of mine huffs and puffs while sitting on my lap, saying she's trying to enlarge her body so as my large frame would get covered. as it is she was a darn sight larger because of the countless number of winter wear i had made her wear.
she covers my ears with her tiny hands telling me to put my freezing palms inside her sweater, squealing with mock delight for a couple of minutes as my icy palms touched the bare skin of her belly.
i began singing incoherrently & at the top of my voice like a mad-man to ward off the chill (((try it, it works))). the din of the auro-rickshaw engine providing the background music - and more or less drowning my wailing ... she joined in, both of us covering the 40 minute stretch screaming at the top of our voices to forget the north winds.
i will never forget the hilarity of the entire situation where this miniature eskimo even drew out some snacks from the bag feeding me and herself as i kept my senses from passing out.
dropping the luggage at the hotel, borrowing a muffler from the manager, we commandeered another auto to the Sarojini Market. i remember both of us hopping out on reaching the market, running for the heaps of sweaters on tables outside various shops, plucking one, putting it on and heaving a sigh of relief and paying the shopkeeper without even checking what this horrid thing looked like.
well the story is not so much about the sweater as much as it is about my beautiful child and her funny antics during this episode, which i am unable to describe vivdly ... and as usual at one point during the ride i managed to take a couple of self-snapshots at close range of both of us as a memory.
i have to keep a collection box or install a coin-slot on my Yahoo Messenger now to be able to buy a scanner soon, so as i can share the visuals to my memories by putting up these memorable photographs...
===================================================================
This was written by me on 29th December 2005 on IFF...
staring at the unbecoming muddy green (ewwww) sweater i had on while on cam, the story of it's entry into my life flashed back.
i usually detest and don't wear sweaters unless absolutely necessary, the reason why i only owned one, a smart double sided one.
i was travelling on Rajhdahani Express to drop my dottie (daughter) back after the winter vacations on 31st December 2003. As the train passed towns closer to New Delhi, people commented it was raining outside.
as it is, Delhi winters can chill the bones, and when we stepped out of the temperature controlled airconditioned compartment, we were hit by a chill which shook me the way even malaria chills don't.
we retreated back inside and i fished out her additional warm clothes to truss her up like an eskimo. then when i unzipped my duffel bag.....horrors
in the rush while packing, and the fact that i was returning the very next day, i had only packed 2 shirts and some underwear.
i called Delhi and people told me even horny street dogs have their erections frozen midway due to the chilly rain and strong winds. i panicked, visualising a 25 km ride in an open autorickshaw at speeds only Delhi drivers can pile on.
a young doctor from Defence Colony offered me a jacket, since he had a woolen one and a thick synthetic one for wet weather. i declined because if i took his synthetic one the woolen one would get spoilt in the incessant rains, and similar arguement for me not accepting the woolen one too.
i put on one extra flimsy shirt over the one i was wearing and on stepping out on the platform of the New Delhi railway station, i felt like the destitute homeless people freezing in the driving winds.
my 8 year old dottie in her unimitable style, came up with her bright idea ... said she would sit on my lap and keep pappa warm by sheilding me from the cold winds. we boarded a pre-paid auto with me close to losing sensation in my exposed hands and face, and to top it all my head and my shirt getting drenched in the strong drizzle.
this amazingly intelligent and resilient girl of mine huffs and puffs while sitting on my lap, saying she's trying to enlarge her body so as my large frame would get covered. as it is she was a darn sight larger because of the countless number of winter wear i had made her wear.
she covers my ears with her tiny hands telling me to put my freezing palms inside her sweater, squealing with mock delight for a couple of minutes as my icy palms touched the bare skin of her belly.
i began singing incoherrently & at the top of my voice like a mad-man to ward off the chill (((try it, it works))). the din of the auro-rickshaw engine providing the background music - and more or less drowning my wailing ... she joined in, both of us covering the 40 minute stretch screaming at the top of our voices to forget the north winds.
i will never forget the hilarity of the entire situation where this miniature eskimo even drew out some snacks from the bag feeding me and herself as i kept my senses from passing out.
dropping the luggage at the hotel, borrowing a muffler from the manager, we commandeered another auto to the Sarojini Market. i remember both of us hopping out on reaching the market, running for the heaps of sweaters on tables outside various shops, plucking one, putting it on and heaving a sigh of relief and paying the shopkeeper without even checking what this horrid thing looked like.
well the story is not so much about the sweater as much as it is about my beautiful child and her funny antics during this episode, which i am unable to describe vivdly ... and as usual at one point during the ride i managed to take a couple of self-snapshots at close range of both of us as a memory.
i have to keep a collection box or install a coin-slot on my Yahoo Messenger now to be able to buy a scanner soon, so as i can share the visuals to my memories by putting up these memorable photographs...
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posted by _ShaitaaN_ at 10:38 PM
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