"The jiraaf took away my packet of chips on your deks and your packet
of cigeret. What will jiraaf do with them? You will tell me. Then you
can the-end this story."
An apparently undemanding and manageable question my daughter, Niharika, asked me as part of her story. I was all muscled and inked up, excited and eager to the-end the story. It certainly felt doable. But the weekend slipped away between my fingers, over friendships and logistics and other hundred images and words. And some very good, mellow alcohol. I wrote too. Officially for work that I detest and unofficially for work that I love. In the process, losing out on whipping that one thing that I really, really and most willingly wanted to do. Answer C's question. As it rains, I write her one to read out to tonight:
There was once a little naughty girl called C, and her little mommy called K. They didn't have Daddy around in their big-spacious-happy house. But they had a car which mommy drove here and there to. They lived on the twenty first floor of a building, which was one of the many wings of an urban complex. The veranda was a playground where mommy and C played darts and lazed around and won points against each other in catch-catch. Sometimes when there were many stars in the sky, mommy told C stories as she had coffee, and C had a good laugh.
Mommy told C strange things. That she had a wand like Harry did, and showed her her silver fountain pen. She said C too had one and asked her to write of worlds in her elderly-feeling, plain paged copy with her hot pink pencil. You think mommy was mad? May be. She sat for hours in front of her laptop and visited the world. She said there were giraffes and tigers and koala bears living in their grounds, on, in and around trees. Yes, mommy was a bit mad. Especially when C had a packet of chips too many. Or when anyone told her she herself was having a cigarette too many.
Now all this while when she was angry and never shouted back on anyone, she spoke to herself in that verandah. Or, cried some. The giraffe, because it was so tall, could reach upto the twenty first floor's sweet, hanging pots of green nothings and nibbled quite often. And saw mommy like that. It didn't know what to do. Once, it was too long that the giraffe saw neither mommy, nor C on the verandah. The place looked sad without them. They were a happy pair. So, the giraffe went the other way round to one of the other windows and tried to peep in. It saw mommy on a bed, coughing and understood. Cleverly, it took away from the table the two packets which governed mommy and C's lives.
It then went back to the tiger and presented it with C's chips. It was funny to see Mr Tiger crunch on potato flakes. And Mr Bear try and create circles of fancy. Yes, that is what the giraffe did. It told the tiger and bear that it participated in a treasure hunt and won those two packets. The tiger and the bear were overwhelmed to have the prizes to themselves.
Meanwhile on the twenty first floor, as mommy was trying to find out where the packets were, she saw a carnival from her window. It was a strange sight. A giraffe was enjoying a tiger's cuddle and a bear's dance. Mommy was sure the world around her was dissolving into clouds of madness. It was raining happiness. So she shut the window and pulled the quilt up to her and C, and prepared for a happy sleep, thinking if the carnival would continue in her dreams and pulled C close. Zzzz, zzz, zz. The-End.
It rained this night, amidst electronic notifications and mental tribulations and heartfelt emotions. Of love and affairs. I hope C doesn't catch that I just told her A Tall Story. Someday I will tell her about my life instead. When she can spell a jiraaf a giraffe, and ask me directly about Daddy. That will be someday. Soon.
There was once a little naughty girl called C, and her little mommy called K. They didn't have Daddy around in their big-spacious-happy house. But they had a car which mommy drove here and there to. They lived on the twenty first floor of a building, which was one of the many wings of an urban complex. The veranda was a playground where mommy and C played darts and lazed around and won points against each other in catch-catch. Sometimes when there were many stars in the sky, mommy told C stories as she had coffee, and C had a good laugh.
Mommy told C strange things. That she had a wand like Harry did, and showed her her silver fountain pen. She said C too had one and asked her to write of worlds in her elderly-feeling, plain paged copy with her hot pink pencil. You think mommy was mad? May be. She sat for hours in front of her laptop and visited the world. She said there were giraffes and tigers and koala bears living in their grounds, on, in and around trees. Yes, mommy was a bit mad. Especially when C had a packet of chips too many. Or when anyone told her she herself was having a cigarette too many.
Now all this while when she was angry and never shouted back on anyone, she spoke to herself in that verandah. Or, cried some. The giraffe, because it was so tall, could reach upto the twenty first floor's sweet, hanging pots of green nothings and nibbled quite often. And saw mommy like that. It didn't know what to do. Once, it was too long that the giraffe saw neither mommy, nor C on the verandah. The place looked sad without them. They were a happy pair. So, the giraffe went the other way round to one of the other windows and tried to peep in. It saw mommy on a bed, coughing and understood. Cleverly, it took away from the table the two packets which governed mommy and C's lives.
It then went back to the tiger and presented it with C's chips. It was funny to see Mr Tiger crunch on potato flakes. And Mr Bear try and create circles of fancy. Yes, that is what the giraffe did. It told the tiger and bear that it participated in a treasure hunt and won those two packets. The tiger and the bear were overwhelmed to have the prizes to themselves.
Meanwhile on the twenty first floor, as mommy was trying to find out where the packets were, she saw a carnival from her window. It was a strange sight. A giraffe was enjoying a tiger's cuddle and a bear's dance. Mommy was sure the world around her was dissolving into clouds of madness. It was raining happiness. So she shut the window and pulled the quilt up to her and C, and prepared for a happy sleep, thinking if the carnival would continue in her dreams and pulled C close. Zzzz, zzz, zz. The-End.
It rained this night, amidst electronic notifications and mental tribulations and heartfelt emotions. Of love and affairs. I hope C doesn't catch that I just told her A Tall Story. Someday I will tell her about my life instead. When she can spell a jiraaf a giraffe, and ask me directly about Daddy. That will be someday. Soon.
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