So, when I told him that today's post is inspired by the antics of a three year old, I was expecting a taunt to the tune of "stealing candy from a baby". I wasn't disappointed.
"Let me just get this straight. You are telling me that you are ready to stoop so low in your rampant plagiarizitation* in the name of writing every week, that you are now stealing ideas from a child."
*copyright pending. will be soon added to the Oxford dictionary.
Personally, I wouldn't call this stealing. It's not like my nephew confided in me the contents of this post. As a part of my duty of being a creative outlet, I observed him as he goes about his day. And, like I mentioned before, his antics, his reactions and his experiences have inspired me to write.
Again, it's not like he is going to sit down and write about it. Although he has a significant command over the alphabets, and despite being highly imaginative, his works of prose and poetry are more in the vocal medium. It's something similar to the human evolution. We have heard that before any form of writing was professionally started, information was passed down generations by word of mouth and songs - voices notes, if I may say so.
By the time he is able to collect his thoughts into a coherent form to provide us with a visual treat, he'll have had outgrown his current mental state. The pure innocence, the ecstatic joys, the unbridled curiosity and the open mind of a child will be lost to the ways of this world. It's for this reason that observing a child in action brings you so much joy - they are aloof from the rules that bind us.
It's for the same reason that I admire people who are able to write stories for children. They have an acute sense of observation that leaves them with mindset of a child. Three such blessed minds are Enid Blyton, Richmal Crompton and R K Narayan (today happens to be his birthday). If you haven't read their books in your childhood, it is a loss. If you haven't read them even now, you are missing out even more.
So, what was the incident that flagged off this thought train? Ambadi, my nephew was down with fever last week. Even though he got better soon, he needed something to make him feel better. And to that effect, his parents took him to a local pet shop and got for him some more fish to put into the aquarium at home. You should have seen his face after getting them.
The subsequent enactments by him in this week were concerned with going to a pet shop, buying some fish, taking them home, putting them in the aquarium, and when it gets boring, taking them out, frying them and then cutting them into pieces. Oh!! And all fish, no matter what kind or quantity, are worth only two rupees.
More than these antics, what was more endearing was the way he reacted to these new additions to his life. Having pets is an important part of growing up, and it is something we, as city-bred children, have to do without. Or have to a very small extent. Like this.
And for the "5 things" for this week, we'll look at my misplaced attempts to be the owner of a pet. Shall we begin then??
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1. Chicken
KFC!!!
Ok. Not that kind of chicken. The little colourful ones that we see heroines singing to in the movies. And these were my first official pets - about ten of them. When I first broke my leg, I was not even two years old. My parents used them to distract me from my immobility. Sadly, I don't remember anything about them.
2. Fish
One of the more common city pets. I find it hard to recollect the exact species we had, or why we had them, or what happened to them. You might think that this is a figment of my imagination, but I have definite proof in the form of a broken fish tank lying around in our storage room.
3. Rabbits
One day, my father came home with two rabbits. They were cute and cuddly and pooping everywhere inside the house. So, we put them in a cage outside. The dogs were kind enough to leave behind the rabbits' fur for us to find the next day.
4. Ducks
One day, my parents came home with five ducks. We were more cautious with them. So, they lived until they were too big for the tub we let them swim in. And one died of gulping down a fish too fast. We decided to let them go. We dropped them off at a farm.
5. Mittu
If you hadn't noticed, I've used a name for the first time. After years of struggle, my brother and myself were able to finally get a pet worthy enough to have a name. Mittu was the only dog I've ever had the opportunity to be close to, without my mind going into overdrive about whether the dog is going to bite me the next second. He came to us a pup, a cross between a Pomeranian and a common street dog. And he was quite the handful.
A joy to have around, there are videos and photos of him to prove to me that I did have a pet once. Once he reached a certain age (the "I am going to hump everything" age), we had to move him on, back to the place from where we brought him from. I couldn't, and didn't, make the journey to see him off.
***
I have intentionally left out a few cats we nurtured. Since they don't stick to one place, get eaten by dogs and leave scratch marks, I didn't mention them. Cutey and Curra [they were twins. Cutticura - get it??] were growing up in the empty plot next to our house, and we used to just sit at the window and watch them go about their day. That stopped once construction started in that plot also. Also, worthy of a honorable mention is the unnamed cat which was lost to the dogs.
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When I got back home today, I came to know that Ambadi is down with a type of measles. But there is a silver lining. His dad went out and got him some company. At least he'll have a picture to remember them by,
***
So, that's all for this week then.
Have a great weekend!!
'til next week.
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