........and to everyone's shock, Kattappa kills Baahubali. And that's how the French revolution ended!!
I somehow managed to conclude the 10 marks history exam essay.
You just can't contain the excitement and immense joy of starting the two months long school holidays. Wooohoooo!!
Who bothers to have lunch when you are hyper-packed with energy, after all, it's just the starting hours of the holiday and you just want to live those moments. It's more relatable to that Friday afternoon feeling.
As the school holidays kicks off in our part of the world in South India, its the jack fruit and mangoes season. Yum.........what a treat it is. Jackfruit is too much work, the easy target is mangoes.
It doesn't matter whose mango tree it is. We have the right to grab a stone or a stick and claim it. If the stone breaks someone's window; well, we could be in trouble - just run for your life.
Mangoes especially those during this season always have a special taste, don't know if its the mango or if its the sense of freedom adding that special flavour. It was such a great treat as always.
At flight speed, we dropped our bags at home, grabbed the cricket ball (the rubber version) and the bat (its not the MRF version as one might imagine, its rather the handcrafted ''Olamdal'' specially derived from the good old fallen coconut tree leaf!!).
Can't remember how many wickets we had just because the ball was smashed over the boundary lines. The boundary line here is very defined, the rules have its own complexities.
If the ball goes to Satheeshan's house, its an OUT. If it goes to the nearby paddy field, well it's a tough one - legend has it that someone have scored a half-century just with one such long shot!!
If the ball goes to Satheeshan's house, its an OUT. If it goes to the nearby paddy field, well it's a tough one - legend has it that someone have scored a half-century just with one such long shot!!
Hours went by as the evening sun showed up as a spectator to watch our home tournament match. Migrant Bengali workers returned home after a long day's work. First show was about to begin at the nearby movie talkies at 6:30pm.
The brand new rubber ball was slowly starting to show wear and tear, losing its signature rubber fragrance and gradually shifting to a grassy one. Boundaries could no longer be identified.
A couple of our players got into 50 and 100 meters race beating Usain Bolts 9.58 seconds and some even into marathons as they got chased up by their parents with that shining stick (sadly not the Olympic medal!!).
And there goes that one last shot way beyond the defined boundaries. What's behind Satheeshan's house? A cemetery !! OMG
Who have the guts to get into a cemetery at this time of the day. Hmm, that ball is worth a lot of savings - who would understand the sacrifice we made by not buying sip-ups, so that we could get this ball.
We slowly walked to the front of the open cemetery, somewhere in a far corner of our minds the BGM of 'The Conjuring' started to play. Come-ondra Maheshe, this is Nisssssssaaaaaaaaaaram!
We recited Maheeeeeeeeeendra Baaaaaaaaaaahubali and ran fast into the cemetery. Wait, it is dark!
Can't see a trace of anything except for the shiny silver crosses everywhere.
And as we were trembling with fear as the ambiance grew cold and spooky; there comes a strange golden light! Not one, but a few golden torch lights.
All at once the church bell rang at 7pm, what a nice touch of BGM to an already horror scene.
At Mach 3 speed, we ran the hell out of the cemetery, one of my mates went on a different trajectory at this speed and landed in Dubai with no passport and started some hypermarkets in memory of his Tulu language!
Frightened by this extra-ordinary takeoff scene, the cemetery cats who have been mute since evolution, cried like never before MeeeeeeooooW and from then own a new cat language was born.
*** THE END ***
