The pickle revenge

Something happened that took me back to the glorious era between 1981 and 1990... The story today starts with an 'adult' neighbor moving into our building. The lady in question was a mother of a six year old, like most other mothers and had decided to call her son 'Mausam' (The 'weather' in english). What we did to him for that name is a study in sadism of epic proportions.

So, a good mother that she was she decided to take revenge. She threatened us into giving him our toys, goodies, barbies.. hit us if we resisted... every time her whiny son would lust for anything not essentially his own, which was very often by the way. She then went on to make small talk with our mothers and let them know how bratty we were to Mausam AND her. So well... what do you expect any self respecting mother in a cloistered 4 building I-know-everything-you've-ever-done society to do? We got thrashed.

And as the theory goes, it takes crisis of some sort to throw up a leader. Destiny chose me and well!... that Wednesday afternoon all 9 of us sat down on the staircase of flat no. 608, the officer's colony. The plan was hatched... dates, time, players decided, roles delegated and put into action. The very next day!

Thursday afternoon
3:00 PM: 9 kids from 3 - 9 years, schooled, fed and eager for revenge

The pit: the roof top area above her flat. The roof tops happened to be a continuous space, as there were no walls separating this space between flats... our second play ground after the road between the buildings.

Target: 4 large pickle bottles, 2 single bedsheets full of rice and dal papads... laid out for drying.

Ammunition: 1. 8 pairs of adult size rubber slippers.
2. the guys with their peepee lazer guns

Course of events:
3:10: Mohalla women deep in the embrace of siesta, the bitch included.
3:15: Player 1 takes position. She happened to be a 4 year old, who could run really fast. Job was to guard the post that overlooked the enemy's den and let us know the moment the bitch steps out.
3:15.5: Player 2... oh sham!! everyone else just got on to the bedsheets full of papads and did a fine job of annihilating the crunchy to dust... aware all the time that the 'patt-patt' of the rubber against cement floor will wake her up any moment... my heart was beating in my mouth, as we tried to cover maximum ground over the papads... the patt-patt...crunch crunch working us into a mad frenzy.
3:15.5: Simultaneously 4 boys of the gang take out their peepee lazer guns and emptied their bladders into the large pickle bottles.
3:18: Player 1 runs back screaming
"Dideeeeee.....Dideeeeeeee.... thull gaya dalwajaaaa (Eng translation: The bitchy cunt's coming, run for life!)
3:18 onwards: mad run, scramble, scatter, scamper, scraped skins, run over each other, fall, laughing mad all the time... just somehow get down 2 floors from the other 2 stairs, on the roads and back home. You see moms generally slept so deep we were counting on them thinking we never left home.

And over and above all this... the shrill scream of ... "are ******, Haraam ke jano...******"

As expected, she did complain. And all of us said we had never gone out that day. Some still got thrashed, but then that was more like routine you-need-to-get-thrashed-once-a-week stuff. We had finally and truly emerged victorious.

That day on she never bothered us. She never complained to our parents or try to snatch our toys. Her son lived like an outcast. We never stopped making him miserable.

But you know what's the best part! The Mishras never threw the pickles away. All the salt and preservative must have rendered our endeavour ineffective... and so thank God for it. The bottles were still out and drying 1 day later, and one of the gang positively spotted them above the Mishra hearth a couple of months hence, during a Diwali sweet distribution errand.

Its been almost 20 years and I am still laughing. This event was actually a trigger for a series of planned mutinies we executed over the next 2-3 years. Needless to say I wish I could go back sometimes... just to feel the sun the way it did during the long afternoons we spent on the building roof. Very warm and so much home somehow.

Been some time...

that the blank has been there for company. Its very possesive. Does not allow anything else to co-exist.
So right now... I am going to get out and try do something. Its lonely otherwise. I can't talk, think... say anything that makes sense.
At the risk of sounding morbid... feels like I am locked inside a room within and I can't find where the room is. Its night time and not much light either... So will have to wait it out till the sun shines again coz its not much use trying to navigate the labyrinth of fleeting thoughts... that I just can't seem to hold on to. Its blurred, getting slippery and cold and I am tired.

Pennywise

I gathered another penny today. It dropped real sweet on me.

Penny: Our friends need us the most when they are at their worst behavior.

It pays to stick around during the angry diatribe, lashing out and 'I'll misbehave rt now... lets see what you do' phase.

If it does not kill the bond, it only gets better.

And I've gotten myself another shuffle. This one's called Violet (for obvious reasons).

I lost baby blue

I lost my shuffle.

I miss her. I just don't know what to say. I miss her so much.

:(

Scattered on the wind...

Some thoughts from someone else:

The mark of your ignorance
is the depth of your belief
in injustice and tragedy.
What the caterpillar calls
the end of the world,
the master calls the butterfly.

Anger is always fear.
And fear is always
fear of loss.

Lean into your fears,
dare them to do their worst
and cut them down when they try.
If you don't, they'll clone themselves,
mushroom till they surround you,
choke the road to the life you want.
Every turn you fear
is empty air, dressed
to look like jagged hell.

Drag Test

Have you taken the drag test lately? Its a very simple and fun!

Test pre-requisite:

Picture yourself walking on the road... dragging an assortment of articles behind you. They could be tied with ropes or cords... you holding the ends in your hands... as you walk on with the tins and cans dragging behind you. If you can see it, you need to take the test. Otherwise run along. You are a happy soul!

Now the fun bit:
Step 1: Look at everything that's happening. Make a mental list... no pen and paper ok? What? No? fine you bum! go get it. Now, the cans, tins, photocopy machines... whatever you are dragging with you represents something in life. The heavier... the meaner, needless to say.

Step 2: There will be things you can drop right away... reduce the load. But probably have not cause you've just been lazy or preoccupied with other stuff. If yes, join the club! So now's the big chance... Do what you need to and drop the weight. Time frame: Things that can get done in a day will belong to this category. My list has some 6 items. Yours could have calling someone up and asking them to get a life! Or something at the bank.

Step 3: Now we come to the mean bit. These will be heavy and painful things... I hope you dint see yourself dragging a Boeing! Anyway... drop these right away too. Yes... you heard it! Rt now!

You see... the point is why drag anything? Past issues... future worries... present stress... some painful client... some jackass of a friend! Shed the baggage. If you've seen the picture clearly... you will see that all of it is external to you, and you can choose at any point to let them go. By any logic you don't need any of it so just drop it. You must want to... that's all.

You are far more capable of doing whatever you want to, without any unnecessary load on your shoulders! You'll walk faster to get to where you want to go and more good news is it frees your hands... ok ok cheesy I know! There is so much to do anyway, so a pair of hands doing what you want them to would be welcome rt?

This happened to me in my dream last night. It was some stuff I was dragging by the way! And I feel lighter... better. Let me know if it works. I'll apply for a patent.

Love.

Silver Lining

You win some,
lose some!
You dream...
inherit the impatience,
rude shocks,
heart aches...
I'd rather live uncomfortable
with impatience,
but dream.
with shocks and some pain,
still keen...
than not live at all.
I'll pick up the threads again
weave my soul back...
I'll look back and smile
wait for that single,
all purging, drenching rain.
till then...

To dance...

I wish I could dance on my blog... I express myself better through music of my body, the language of movement ... than words. I feel rhythm... the beats and my body just goes with it. Its something that fills my soul... It takes me in to worlds I'd love to live in.

I wish I could express the feeling when I let the control go and just move... the arms, hips, lips, fingers... all in sync. Communicating like I can't even begin to in any other language... feel blessed to be able to speak in bodies.

I wish I could say how it feels when you anticipate a piece of music to come, and your being... not the mind... but your being, that takes a decision on how its going to treat the music. The alternating of subtle movement with obvious... the sensuous with playful... the instrument of expression shifting from the face to fingers to calves to the curve of the back and expanse between your breasts and hips... painting on a space canvas... painting your own picture. Aware... all the time... that its perfect.

...when your arms move serpentine... the hips draw a circle like drawing a perimeter which contains all that matters in the moment... The thighs start the rhythm... your toes follow... and before you know your breasts are straining against your being and an invisible boundary ... a not so subtle sign of rebellion.

Ah! rebellion! Now that's my value system.

Night nomads

Its wayyyy past midnight... and I am up writing this. Deductive logic: I can't sleep. So its Mustard, me and a bowl full of piping hot and spicy maggi for each other. And its not bad.

I finish a month of a journey... I have been a blog writer for so long you see. And in such lil time, my blog's already made it to my 'best friends' list. I think it comes closest to loving me unconditionally.

For several reasons:

1. Every time I come to it, I feel like it looks up at me from the screen and smiles.
2. I get to say anything I want to it. I never get judged. Feels like it accepts me just as I am. I may be weak or strong, failure or success... here I am as I am and its fine.
3. It listens to whatever I have to say, for however long. It doesn't tire. It will never tell me 'Look I am bored now... So I'll go belong to someone else.'
4. Its allowed me to express things I could never believe happened. Its let me get past the misery. Its made me a happier person. Its made me fall in love with reading and writing all over again. And does not want anything in return.
5. I look forward to this meeting. Everyday! I look forward to gathering my experiences in the day and coming to it and excitedly talk about it.
6. No matter what happens... the above will never change.

Makes me wonder how this is exactly what human relationships want too. Just some appreciation and joy in each other's existence. To let one feel that its ok to be you... You can make all your mistakes with me and I will stick with you. That I am not doing you a favour, but I want to be with you, for I love who you are, as you are.

There's another journey I started a month back... I've had my celebration of its one month anniversary. And its an awesome story too, but for another day, another time... sometime. Right now... I am going to go look outside the window... its pouring like crazy and the raindrops look amazing in the steetlight.

A night's tale... Whoha!

I have had the most fun night of the year today! By far the best! T is the best friend I have had for eight years now... that's the longest in my life. We've been together and drifted and the whole thing repeat. But we've stuck.

So I get to his place by 9... and we generally chat over life. We have this thing of coming up with bizzare theories on life which are just so crazily loopey! Lets take the 'dump and dumper' for example... I came up with this idea that dumping and being dumped are cyclical in my life... trend analysis of data available: got dumped first time, then I dumped... and then I got dumped again! So its essentially my turn to dump now and I am all nails sharpened, polished, and glee! He came up with the 'itch' theory... just that you need to add an alphabet before it. So it started like... Ditch! Ditch! then a Bitch! And a Bitch again! and then Hitch! and finally the real Ditch (grave)! Ok fine! We were high on laughter... ok?

Then we decide to get out and do something! And I dont mean people here... So we hit Mondy's at Colaba and have sausages and pasta for dinner. The conversation flows... I trivialise him with WWII ghory story routine. And he goes on with his two pence ... Examples:
- All women are sex objects! Every time I talk of sex, they object.
- You know this pedder road in peak traffic hours is like a bitch man! She fucks you, spanks you, hits you in the face and enjoys it. Too bad I can't reciprocate the feeling! It wd be nice coz she is just so mean!
- Me: So T... what did you do today?
- T: errr.... you want names?
- Me: Noooo! I meant more materialistic stuff!!! (eyes rolling routine and bit)
- T: you mean richer people...?
- Me: giggling silly.... Ok so in 1931....

We finally get thrown out at 1:30. So we head to Gateway of India... stand there and talk on life and the old times in Lucknow and Delhi. We head out to Gokul and Bade Miyan... If I ever had a friend down in Bombay... I would not miss taking them to these places for life. They are like the soul of Bombay. Then we make it to Polly's.... Get out and just head for the marine drive. Its a full moon night... its 3 in the morning and the damn place is full of people. This is what I love about Bombay... I feel alive when I am out in it. So many men... so many women. The chatter... the laughter... the breeze and moon.

We get into serious stuff. He tells me he is going to be a father soon. And I go into shock. Say something dumb... and then both of us look at each other and say it together... 'When in shock... Do not talk'. After the feeling sinks in ... I just jump up and down... till he accuses me of trying to hypnotise him by behaving like a vertical pendulum! We finally decide to seal the deal and do the Worli sea face as well before sliding back home... coz the damn streets were so empty! The radio is playing the saturday night dance-the-night-away kinda music and we make the remaining journey... head rocking... windows down... wake every body up kinda loud music! Ohhh God! I just love to get out in the night in a car and zoop! on the roads... it makes me feel like I can fly... I dont know why it gives me such a kick!

Oh wait! I think I know... in highschool... I used to get out of home at night (always after 12)... scale the front wall (11 Ft) and go and dance under the street light with my walkman! I danced all alone on that broad lonely road and it used to kick me for days... like a drug and then I'd do it again! It was such an adventure... I think someone saw me and told Dad... he asked me the next day if I'd gone out at night... and I flatly refused. I think the whole thing was too far fetched for him to believe it anyway... thankfully. Needless to stay my midnight adventures died an untimely death.

The inner circle... (of friends)

I am amusing myself. But I have managed a break through. You see... I have managed to bring the voices in my head together and realise there are just two of them. They must have both been pretty cantankerous all this while... confusing me into thinking that there were too many. Never underestimate women arguing!

So we had this session finally, where I sat them down and we decided to let the past quarrels go. And they seem to be making friends very fast. They have strong personalities. One is 8 and very funny, dresses in frills. The other is a grown up and well... I dont know her age! ha! And dresses formal. Very formal. Always talks in calm tones. And enjoys a good laugh. She really likes the kid and is very protective. And the kid reciprocates. She's funny, adventurous and very very open to ideas.

They have the most sane conversations I have been privy to in my head in years. The kid surprises me the most. So now they have come up with this whole routine of dealing with fear / anxiety / worrying thought bit. Usually the one who is worried, talks about it and then they go to the coffee table. Its a high wood table with steel chairs. Then the 'one with the worry' (kid came up with the line!) has to take the feeling out and put it on the table. And then we get to look at the shape, size, colour and temperature (yes! you heard it right!) of the damn thing. It could be like a blob... big, real hot and smoldering green in colour... It just takes it out of me and puts it where I can see and feel it.

Last night, during one such talks... the kid looked at the grown one's fear on the table and said... 'That's so ugly... no one would want it on their coffee table!!' and they laughed and laughed!!

And no... I am not seeing a shrink about this. Thanks.

A day's tale

I have spent six hours on Wikipedia today. Some advantages of being home on a working day... And the end result looks... desultory!

I read up on:
1. Ernest Hemingway
2. William Wordsworth
3. WWII
- General turn of events
- Rape of Nanking / Japanese invasion of China
- Blitzkrieg tactic of warfare
- Baltic States & Scandinavian Countries
- Hakko Ichiu - Japanese political slogan, post 1940. Literally eight cords, one roof OR all the world under one roof. There seem to be a lot of similarities between the german 'living room' concept and this one... at least in what both ideologies aspired to achieve. Need more indepth discussion with philosopher or phil as I call him... to validate the thought.
- Flooding of yellow river - I dont know how to feel really after reading that the Chinese central government killed its own people (estimated between 500,000 to 900,00) by flooding the yellow river in june 1938... because they wanted to stall the rapidly progessing Japanese... and prepare for the decisive battle of Wuhan. Guess what! the damn town was taken by the Japs anyway! In october. So effectively, they expended 6000+ lives per day... to buy time they couldn't use!
4. Song Lyrics - was too depressed to go on with WWII really!
5. Trivia on 'American Pie' by Don McLean - categorised as folk rock. And how the song 'Killing me softly' was inspired by it. Sung by Roberta Flack then, it won the record of the year for that year... beating American Pie!

Ok... I know you are bored. So let talk books? I went cuckoo in the head yesterday and picked the most number of novels in a single go in my life!

1. Family Matters - Rohinton Mistry
2. Sula - Toni Morrison
3. A case of exploding mangoes - Mohammed Hanif
4. Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison
5. Sundays at Tiffany's - James Patterson & Gabrielle Charbonnet

So its going to be a lot of reading on and off mustard (Mr laptop)... I am set for onslaught of the weekend. They are darned hard to get through. Baby blue (Ms shuffle) seems to have become an appendage of my body... The wallet's called rusty, and the cell phone gray. Bed's called choco and the laptop bag's too corny to reveal! :)

Horoscopes by Adam Sandler...

Well I am a Capricorn and this is what he has to say for my lot:

Capricorn (Dec 23 - Jan 22) - You are conservative and afraid of taking risks. You are basically chicken shit. There has never been a Capricorn of any importance. You should kill yourself.

But guess what... I dint feel so bad after all, when I read this!!:

Leo (July 23 - Aug 22) You consider yourself a born leader. Others think you are an idiot. Most leos are bullies. You are vain and can not tolerate criticism. Your arrogance is disgusting. Leo people are thieving motherfuckers and enjoy masturbation more than sex.

And this...

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sept 22) You are the logical type and hate disorder. Your shit-picking attitude is sickening to your friends and co-workers. You are cold and unemotional and often fall asleep while fucking. Virgos make good bus drivers and pimps.

Libra (Sept 23 - Oct 22) You are the artistic type and have a difficult time dealing with reality. If you are a male you are probably a cross-dresser. Chances for employment and monetary gain are nill. Most Libra women are whores. All Libras die of venereal disease.

Leos take the cake though. Ha! And it helps that I never got along with them. Ever!

Just for gags

This happened on G Talk some days ago!

And names have been changed to protect the identities of the entities involved!
====================================================================================================
me: Hiii... need to speak to you!

Friend: hey how's u

me: I am fine.... :) You are with XYZ company nowadays rt?

Friend: korrect

me: I need to know something.. :)

Friend: ??

me:A friend of mine is getting an opp with your HR... what do you say?

Friend: well let mme be frank

me: yeah..?

Friend: hr practices in XYZ india is pathetic... run by Hari Sadu, who heads it. he lacks strategic vision and is an absolute monster to work with. has his own sense of timings and work ethics. has got no respect for human or moral values .the entire team is breakin up.
admin manager has left,
comp n ben manager is desperate for a change and
the poor recruitment lass is in pain and asking me for a job change

me: sounds like mayhem!!

Friend: not only that even the people in operations are sick of him. he's too arrogant and far too unapproachable

me: Jeeez.... did I touch a raw nerve... :)

Friend: a strict cabin person who believes in monarchy and aristocracy, a complete jerk !!

me: Thanks. I have no doubts at all now. :)

Friend: he's all FART AND NO SHIT
ABSOLUTE BOLLOCKS
COBBLER
huh

Me: Thanks

Friend: for which position has your fren applied for

me: Asst Manager Comp & Ben

Friend: pls save his life. he deserves much better

me: I guess so... Thanks anyway..!!

Its a beautiful life

I had looked up at the sky one day and asked him, "Won't you send me an angel today? Tell me... will you?" Well. He did.

Event: Sexual Abuse / Unsolicited shit / Rape
Ghost: Exorcised

Today I step out of the moments and look at life beyond.

And today I choose to forgive.

I'll keep the trust, my faith.
I'll let go of hurt and hatred, guilt and humiliation.
I'll keep the human. Let go of the victim. Just walk on.

Its a beautiful life. So I will carry my own vision forward. And let others' actions be with them.

Like someone said... 'You've given your life to become the person that you are. Was it worth it?'... It better be worth it then.

Did you know...?

"Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink...." are lines from 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
That he was a part of the group 'Lake Poets' (William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge & Robert Southey) who all lived in the Lake District of England and are considered a part of the Romantic movement in English poetry.
That the American Transcendental movement is considered to be inspired by the English romantic movement, amongst other things... German Idealism (Immanual Kant) and Vedic thought being a few....

And while I was on the subject, I found this:

Thoreau in Walden (1854) spoke of the debt to the Vedic thought directly, as did other members of the Transcendental movement:

In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavat Geeta, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions. I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Brahmin, priest of Brahma, and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water-jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.

I went... Wow! The next steps are to dig into the 'New Thought' movement.

And all this because I was trying to understand Jacobinism... that through a blog called 'Sit down man, you're a bloody tragedy' at nastybrutalistandshort.blogspot.com

Peace. Found.

Sometime between yesterday and today I decided to stay with myself.
I decided to be with me.
So the memories I thought I'd forgotten have come back.
But this time around I'll stay with myself.
Rather than step out and entertain me with trivia ... and leave the core within to the ghosts.
Before anyone else can stick around, I'll stick around.
They can't protect me if I wont.
Surprisingly, its far less lonely now.
And I like the feeling.

Man enough are we?

Let me say that I never liked defeat.
Or to run away from the kitchen coz I can't take the heat.
You see I am not a person of sophisticated fears
I am not the one to put words in so many layers
But I am man enough to say I have them
That I'd rather have heart and fight them.
Than hand my life over,
and say... you're the strong one, so run my days as they count.
That I will niether be a vampire nor a victim,
and it does not depend on whose around.
That I will never look like a car crash,
whose wheels are turning but its upside down.
You too can walk with me.
but then, man enough are we?

Can music save your moral soul...?

An angel falls
Darkness calls
Breath stalls
And I wonder...
To live or let go
... Live or let go
..Live or...
"Dressed up like a car crash
the wheels are turning but you're upside down...
So remember me fondly...
And that sometimes you can't make it on your own"

Just the little things...

Sis is planning to study in NZ. So she and I went out to meet Dad's doctor ... he'd studied in NZ... and we wanted his opinion on things.

Now... it was Dr Advani's lucky day today! No I dint do what you think... perv!! He had a good number of patients silly! So ... we had this hour long wait in the corridor. And man did we have fun!

We did the following:
1. Walked infront of the glass door on the nearby office again and again... the man on the front desk was sleeping you see... he'd wake up with a start every time he sensed someone was close to the door. I was able to do it barely once coz I was laughing so much. I'd caught a few very undescribably silly expressions on his face... He got wiser and left after some time.

2. Jammed. Yes we did. We sang all the old songs from an album dating back to stone age (the highschool days)... Sis provided the background music and I the vocals. The best one was 'Stand by me'.... And 'Your song' came a close second. The fun part was when the lady just before us in the queue came out and asked us if we were singing!! We had been unknowingly audible till rt inside the Doc's clinic all this while! :)

We entered his cabin feeling rather sheepish... but he was sweet and very confessionally told us that anything was a welcome break from people and their stories! I think he is the only doctor I like in the whole wide world.

You dont fit in! Period!

In psychology and the cognitive sciences, perception is the process of acquiring, interpreting, selecting, and organizing sensory information... don't look at me Wikipedia says so. I studied Perception during Psychology in graduation and then in HR in an MBA I dont like to remember. Anyway... the fact of the matter is that there is obviously much more to this simple word.

We are always percieving and sorting information around us in boxes. We are always simplifying the complex relaity around us in the best way we know to make decisions better.... faster. Speed is the key. You are a better specimen of man kind if you are fast up there.

Too sad, I find myself being put in boxes too many times. All professional literature (I'm reading "The Science of Influence" by Cialdini) says one needs to control how others percieve you. How your actions, words, way you speak, your sense of humour... all go a long way to decide 'what' and 'who' you become for someone else.

And I hate this bit about Human Relationships. I hate this need for speed, for putting people in boxes, rather fixing boxes for people and then putting... rather stuffing them in it somehow. It damn hurts ya! The corners hurt me and the space is just not enough to grow. I need sunlight and air and dont care two hoots about your box.

So go ahead label me. Decide what you want me to be and live with it. Coz I wont. I refuse to live in that box and make you happy. I refuse to put you in a box and buddy! believe me that is the best I can do for you.

But then... do you know what I am saying? Do you 'percieve' at all that I am setting you free? To be you with me.

Hope floats

This is for Rudra. He is a 4 year old autistic boy who lives close by.
I was witness to a small episode in Rudra's life yesterday and it has stayed with me. He was out with his walker yesterday, a steel frame structure designed to help small kids with muscle co-ordination challenges. His parents by his side.
He had a small step to tackle to get to the level platform infront. He had to pick his walker and put it on the step and then pull himself up along. His parents stood by and watched... as he struggled.
His father would pick up the walker slightly time and time again... to demonstrate, to hint. But he did not pick it up for Rudra. He did not HELP. His mother stood some distance away and kept enthusing him... saying his name again and again and beckoning him. No one HELPED.
And you'd think that they should have lifted that damn walker and put it up for him... they should have taken his hand and helped him up and let him walk.
Minutes passed. And I had to give it to these two souls for their patience. For the infinite love they must have inside to not help the struggling child, probably in pain. For holding on... for what seemed like forever.
Just when I thought it probably wont happen today, he did it. He lifted the walker and walked onto the platform. and he ran... can you believe it... he actually ran and ran. He looked back and screamed with laughter.
He is my favorite person rt now, specially after the way he waved and smiled at me today morning. Courage comes in many forms... like a 4 year old with clear eyes and toothy grin.