Out of the mouth of babes

The kids in my colony are brats. Lovable brats, mischievous brats, tiring brats but brats nevertheless. One of the recent festival-holidays saw a riot of colours as the kids all geared up for a fancy dress competition. As usual, I was out all day and when I got back late in the evening, all I caught was the remains of the stage and streamers lying around everywhere. Almost. Till I was accosted near the elevator by the brat-pack, eager to show off their costumes and prizes. The elders of the colony in all their wisdom had ensured that every kid got some prize of some sort. So excitement running high, I was treated to a private parade right on the elevator landing.

Then abruptly, as kids are wont to do sometime, one of them remarked,

Didi you are looking very old today. All tired and all. Like this –> *brows furrowed and cheeks sucked in*

I laughed and said,

I am old!

to which promptly I was quizzed,

How old?

Much as I love kids, I really don’t have the energy to keep up with them at most times. So shucking my insofar story of “I’m 432 years old and I brew a special potion on full moon nights to stay that way”, I replied,

Twenty-eight!

Greeted by a chorus of horrified gasps and some growls (?). I heaved a secret sigh of relief, imagining erroneously that I would be let off the hook and permitted to go home. Not so since the bratpack hit back with…

So old??? Shaadi-shuda ya….?

Whattt????? I screeched in my mind…not the little critters too!!! So I sighed and said..

Nope. Not married.

Oh god…more questions, each time I try to end the conversation it leads to a dozen more! Always the quintessential…

Why?

Aha! I thought to myself….bachche, hum bhi kuch kam nahin….and I said,

Because no one wants to marry me! Will you marry me?

To which they all ran off screaming. I shut the lift door just in time to hear one pipsqueak squeak,

Arre, iski to kismat chamak uthi hai!!

And a growling…

Tujhe ek thapad maroonga!!!!!

The best way to deal with little boys is to keep one step ahead of them and frighten them a bit. Then again, that is the way to deal with all boys.

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About IdeaSmith

IdeaSmith is the digital doppelganger of Ramya Pandyan (intrepid train-traveller and frequent spouter of post-midnight rhymes and rants). As IdeaSmith she battles obscurity and slays boredom with her stories about men, books, digitalia and Mumbai. She performs live and also blogs, tweets, Instagrams, Facebooks, +G’s, Youtubes and Goodreads all as IdeaSmith. Ramya is a blogger, digital storyteller and spoken word performer. She also runs a forum for aspiring writers called Alphabet Sambar. Tweet-bomb her at @ideasmithy.

Posted on October 2, 2007, in Battle of the sexes, On a lighter note.., Survival Guide. Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. ha ha funny, I did guess the ending though, I knew that you did not mean little boys all along :)..

  2. @ Rambler: Actually this conversation did happen with a bunch of little boys all under the age of 9. And the last thought did occur to me only later. Now why won’t you believe me? Just because I’ve said it only a 100 times before? 😀

  3. @ Australopithecus: As much as your posts? 🙂

  4. Hahaha… I’ve always known kinds can be entertaining! Fun stuff that!

  5. I meant “kids” of course.

  6. @ Ashwin: But of course. 😀

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