CLOSED Encounter

“kal subah ladki waale aa rahe hain.” Announced my mom beaming happily..

I was flabbergasted I had just stepped into the house after a seemingly-never-ending-three-day-journey, sitting on a non-extendable cushion-less seat situated next to the emergency exit gate .

As if that was not enough, I had to face the continuous yapping of my taxi driver who was driving like a hungry tiger ferociously chasing the deer. Whatever little sleep I was left-over with, was also spoiled by the repeated jerks he gave while halting & taking off at the busy traffic. Exhausted I had finally managed to reach home, just to realize that peace didn’t wait for me here either…

I scornfully listened to mom’s announcement and thought, “That’s called as Women’s liberation era or rather Women liberated era.. No more would girls bring the tea-trays for an arrogant groom’s family & sit shyly opposite to them facing their scrutinizing eyes glaring at her and asking illogical questions.”
“Times have changed sweetheart” I heard My inner voice console me..

“So will I too be carrying the tea-tray now?” I was left speculating coz I was too tired to ask & then argue at that hour of the night… I went to bed straight. My silent dissent was not heeded to… It could not be –even at that hour… & I could clearly hear “How on the earth, is the girl’s family supposed to meet you when you are working in a different city? More so, they need to be assured about us & be aware of our life-style & our way of living.” May be they were right… Of course, they were…

“Get up! Get up! It’s already seven. Get ready. Shave yourself properly & shampoo your hair... They will be coming around eleven or twelve.” The lamb was being decorated before Sacrifice.

“Don’t wear these T-shirt or jeans. Wear a kurta-pyjama or shirt-n-trouser.”
My patience gave up. “You decide whatever you want me to wear. I am going out for a breath of fresh air” I stamped out

Sometimes I wonder that I turned out too shareef. Had I chosen for a Love-marriage, both me & my parents would have been spared of such “Arranged Marriage” rituals. But then, I really appreciate the efforts my parents take so painstakingly to find out that suitable one. I could never do that for my kids in that INDIAN way.. Anyways…well, for that day,

I finally wore a kurta-pyjama but thankfully was spared from carrying the tea-tray for my Prospective-In-Laws (PIL) coz they could not turn up due to some unavoidable circumstances.

Mad ads fad

H for Hitler, A for adamant, R for rascal! Reminds you of something? An advertisement that prompted so many of us to call our bosses by names in the H-A-R-I S-A-D-U way. Mujhe ladkon mein koi interest nahi hai, that's what you say to your parents and go your(for girls only) way to Goa inspired by Virgin mobiles!! These ads are cool, they are funky, and they talk to the young, bitchy, hep and impatient. Here are some of my favourite ads currently running on the Idiot Box.

Youngistan impatient

Airtel's "Impatience is the new life" broadband ad is totally cult. The graphics are great and voice over awesome. The script is simply perfect - "We can't wait for a vee-jay to tell us which music to play!" Right!

Move on

Fast track's Move on ads are ultra cool. The girls and guys move on to others, literally. The ad gives Move on a brand new dimension, and appeals to the new-age youth. Inviting flak from some as well, we rate it as one of the best and a trendsetter.

Baki sab bakwaas

Sprite… baki sab bakwaas… This commercial is like a slap on other soft drinks ads. No tom-tom-ing - just a liner. Clear hai! Hope we see less of SRK post IPL and more of cool liners.

Flirting virgin

The guy hitting on his girl's mother so he could get to take his girl for a movie. Just one of the coolest ideas by Virgin Mobiles! The best excuses without argument and most of them very very practical as well. Virgin didn't care to lose its virginity to a starlet as their brand ambassador. So what all Virgin excuses have you used to get away from sticky situations??

Aww cho- chweet ads

Baby talk

We all still go aawww when the two-year-old does chuckles to his dad as a reaction to beta bolo Czechoslovakia… in the New York Max Insurance Child Plans commercial.

Puppy faced papa

Kabhi toh mature bano, the woman is scolding her retired old husband in the New York Max Insurance Retired Plans ad. And all he says with a lowered head is, haan hota hun na…kal se… For me it was like seeing my old retired neighbour Chacha getting a wordy bashing from his old wifey for coming home late from his usual garden get-togethers. Does it happen to your dad too??

Zoo zoo-ing our hearts

The desktops have them on. The cell phones are blaring out the ring tones. Many are even using them as their profile pics on orkut or facebook. The reigning King of all commercials is no doubt but the adorable Zoo-Zoo speaking stubby Zoo-Zoos. The Vodafone ads always make my eyes tinkle with a new ad launches every day during IPL 2.

Soft romance

We see Sushma Reddy and her on-screen boyfriend going around the town splashing water with their Limca touch. The ad is a good one-and-half minute, but makes us swing with its beautiful soundtrack and cool visual. All we are left wishing…ohh how I wish I could do that…get drenched in my formals and no work for a day!

Brainy stuff

Choron ke bhi usul hote hain

The new 5-star ad of the guru chor stopping his chela from stealing the lost in his own world guy saying, galat faydaa nahi uthana chahiye. Hum choron ke bhi usul hote hai yar is really catchy. Now we got to make way for the samaj-sudharak chors!

What an idea!

The Abhishek Bacchan as the geeky secretary encouraging his minister madam for a janata ko pucho ad gets the oh- so-democratic feeling. Janata ne kaha haan toh haan! But wish this messaging thingy worked for us in reality too.

Scare the shit out of the bugger

We've tried blocking the ever irritating credit card, loans and all those unsolicited calls for all those offers, but to no vail. These buggers never stop bugging us. But since the parle aam goli ad has come up, we can always say rohit ki laash mili…tum use kaise jante ho??That's enough to send them shivering at the other end of the phone. Police ka jhol hai bhai! Avoid it…..

And some bakwas ones.

VISA could not "go get it " this time. They have maintained their consistency in making bakwas ads with people around the globe jumping with Visa prepaid card or the Autowala refusing to go to an ATM. The admaker must have first asked the autowalla's first if they accepted cards themselves.

Virgin Mobile Saying "Think Hatke" but themselves not thinking hatke and trying to imitate Zoo Zoo's. May be the thought hatke and coloured their creature Red

So dikhave pe naa jao apni akal lagao and chuckle at these witty ads.

The Crush n Crashes

Everyone in their lives would have had crushes, and me too had my share of crushes. But, it didn't take much time for each of them to turn to crashes. Well each time I stumbled upon my crush and ave fallen for him

None of my crushes took off, or probably they crashed even before they took off !! Today, when I look back, I can’t manage but to have a laugh.

My first crush was on Miss R. We happened to speak only once. It was when I had offered her a coke. She refused to have it and the very next moment I gulped it down. I still cant forget the dumbstruck look on her face. A few days later, she started going around with one of my classmates. They used to go for wonderful evening walks, Miss R, my classmate and her doggy. Unfortunately(fortunately for me), the affair didn't last too long. On one such romantic walk of theirs, my classmate was bitten by the doggy. He brought up the question : Its me or the dog......The answer was anyones guess, she chose the dog !!! The news gave me sadistic pleasure.

It was in class 11th-12th. I got very friendly with Miss N in my class. It appeared to me that...yes...she is the girl. One day, Miss N came and sat next to me...close...really Close... My heart beats shot up. She said.. I want to tell you something....but please maintain

it as a secret. I knew...this was it...yes....she went on...you know...X(another classmate of mine) proposed me......and I too like him...and I accepted. I am telling you coz you are like my brother.......WHAT THE HECK ? As if the first news wasn't bad enough, the second sounded suicidal. I looked at her with an artificial smile and said....Congrats S..S..Sis !!! Last Durga Puja I saw her with a kid on her lap in on of the Puja Pandals. I just did a vanishing act due to fear. The fear that she would introduce her toddler to me as “Look baby this is your Mama” .

The next crush didn't take much time to happen. It was Miss S who walked in to class. I literally had my jaws hanging seeing her. We became good friends...but I never fancied my chances...given the Miss N experience. She was my Biology project partner....while she concentrated on the project...I concentrated on her ! Just as the boards got over, and as I mustered enough courage to tell her my feelings, She asked for some time to respond to my proposal. I waited for her reply for a month. The last thing I heard about her was that her dad got transferred. She changed the city for ever.

Next in high school, there was this hottie in my class. Boy....she was a babe...Miss G. She used to stand opposite to me in the chemistry lab. I prayed for some chemistry to happen between us. But I guess, she was much smarter than I was. Miss G realised that I used to mess up all my titration experiments coz I used to be looking at her and not the lab apparatus. I called her out ALONE on my b'day. She turned up with her whole bunch of friends. The girls kept giggling and I looked for a place where I could go and bang my head. I steered clear of her for the rest of my school days.

Moving on from here, it was a major success story. This time round, it took some time for things to crash....just a little longer. A bit more than five years. Everything seemed like a fairy tale when the crash factor took the better of me.

By this time, I was in my job and I decided to use the term "interest" instead of crush. So my interest grew in Miss K in office. I thought she was a very pretty lady. Thankfully, the growth of my interest stopped very soon, the moment I learnt that she was supposed to go on leave the next week for her marriage. She was to marry her long time boyfriend. Only one thought came to my mind....The good ones are always taken!!!

She is my classmate and girlfriend of another classmate (sigh), but she agreed to go with me for an ice-cream. Hey, don’t raise your eyebrows ... I took permission from my friend; after all I am a very very good boy. She is gorgeous, even for 1 day at least I could be beside her. People would think I have a gorgeous girlfriend (obviously I don't want my mom to see though)

So we went to the Rollicks parlor at city centre. It's quite cozy corner. I ordered two black forests. Yummy, I love ice-cream, she loves too. We chatted n chatted for a long time. As a usual girl, She talked about her family and I was talking about other people's families (I don’t talk about my Dad, as people get to know how scared I am of him :(...) . We took burgers too and it was almost 1 hour past. The parlor boys were smiling, they took us as love birds. Finally we got up to pay the bills and wow! I didn't bring the purse with me!! Seriously enough, overjoyed with excitement I forgot my wallet at home. I felt ground shifting away from under my feet. But I had to do something. I took up my mobile and pretended as if there was a missed call and asked the girl to wait for while I called back the number. I ordered a cold drink, put that in front of her, got out and went home almost flying, God .. I might meet an accident with the speed I travelled.

After coming back I found she had left the parlor after paying the bill. She thought I ran away after she heard the sound of my bike's engine. Till date I could not convince her that I went to take the purse. Poor me, what a dating experience I had!!

Ha ha ha.....thankfully.....I have grown out of all these......no more
CRUSHES.....so no chances of CRASHES......
I live this way now.....hey...wait.....who is this girl???? !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Don't show Me The Finger, Big B

I am quite tickled at Amitabh Bachchan and, goodness gracious, the usually prim and proper Aishwarya Bachchan brandishing their middle fingers for the benefit of photographers after they voted during the Mumbai polls yesterday. The world knows exactly what it means, even 12-year-olds, and for quite some time even in Asian countries like India and China. And I suspect the teen in Bangladesh and Pakistan too.

To put it straight, it was neither needed, for the noble cause of voting, and nor was it decent. Other actors followed suit and soon there was a sizeable stream of Bollywood's glitterati making the obscene gesture. I won't be surprised if hordes of young Indian voters, suitably impressed by the finger flaunting celebrities, come out of polling booths across the country shouting "Up Yours" – directed to, I suppose, no one in particular. I mean, it can't be to the politician they have just voted for. It can't also be to the press which is just there to cover it, and nor can it be to the Election Commission that has gone to great lengths to organize the gargantuan exercise.

Some actors, though, fully aware of the significance of holding up their middle digits made a sideways slant to show the mark of ink on their fingers. Yet others exhibited all their fingers, more gracefully and correctly.

While I have nothing against the gesture as such, or any other thing that people do privately, quite a large number of people seem to have taken offence at someone like the Big B and Aishwarya getting so blasé and blatant. Certain things, however trendy and rebellious or youthful and iconic, are just not cool, especially when you subject others to it. It’s like smoking or using the f word. Or burping. There’s an implicit ugliness in it. And those who do it are not going against society – they are going against their own selves.

In case Amitabh and Aishwarya have totally missed out on all Western films, many of which, even the real good ones, are replete with the gesture, mostly by punks, adolescents and goons, and have no idea what the middle finger jutting out of the palm means, here's a refresher. In Western cultures, says Wikipedia, the finger (as in giving someone the finger) is a well-known obscene hand gesture made by extending the middle finger of the hand while bending the other fingers into the palm. "The origin of this gesture is speculative, and quite possibly thousands of years old. It is identified as the digitus impudicus (impudent finger) in ancient Roman writings and reference is made to using the finger in the ancient Greek comedy to insult another person…Another possible origin is the phallic imagery of the raised middle finger (the middle finger being the longest finger on the human hand), similar to the Italian version of the bent elbow insult…"

PS: India is planning a manned space mission by 2015, the first nuclear test explosion was done way back in 1974, SLV was launched in 1979 and ASLV in 1987, INSAT and IRS followed suit and Chandrayan I already has a spacecraft in the lunar orbit.

Can we please have a less medieval and more modern way of voting now? So that there's no ink on our fingers and there's no need for Big B and Abhiash to flash The Finger at us first thing in the morning when the go to vote next time? This will be one invention at least I will keep all my fingers crossed for.

The Great Battle of the Sexes

As people, we tend to assume that females and males are different — are indeed “opposite sexes.” We see someone’s sex as an important predictor of their abilities and interests and assume that if we know someone is a girl or a boy, we know a lot about them.

That assumption is wrong! Knowing someone’s sex may tell us a lot about them biologically but it tells us very little about them in other ways. Knowing someone is a woman does not tell us if her athletic ability is closer to P.T Usha or a couch potato's. Knowing someone is a man tells us nothing about whether his math skills reflect those of an Einstein or a math phobic. Sex is not a good predictor of academic skills, interests or even emotional characteristics.

But why all of a sudden have I picked up this topic?

Today one of my female classmate called me after a gap of 11 years. I never believed she would ever speak to me in life. To know the real story you have to visit my classroom.

Seldom we had a fight "Boys Vs Girls" in the leisure time in class and the girls use to be more vocal on this gender war. The fairer sex considered themselves equal to boys in all aspect of life except physical strength. The gang of boys would disagree. I was always amused at this battle of sexes but was never personally involved in it.

One fine day I returned from my usual break to the classroom to find a gang of six girls howling at two poor guys over now so familiar battle. I just sat on my chair enjoying this mini battle. To my utmost surprise boys had lost all the ground and were on the verge of surrendering. How could I see my clan being defeated? To save the pride of boys I decided my holy sacrifice and jumped into the war. I challenged the opposite clan "Can girls do everything boys can do".

A loud "YES" was heard.

This girl pounces at me like a hungry cat over its pray "Why can't we do?"

"Think again" I challenged her.

"Yes we can" was her answer, "tell me"

"No you can't do it" I said satirically and started walking out of the class to avoid any more bloodshed (As Ahimsa was my Parmo Dharam). As I started walking out of the class I heard a Chorus voice "Looser....Looser ...." and this voice grew louder as I stepped out of the door. Being a true sportsman I could no accept my defeat without giving it a fight. I reappeared in the classroom and asked "who is going to accept my challenge".

Again this girl jumps at me with her hand on her hips in an attacking posture. I looked at her face with a wicket smile and said "Forget it".

"Then accept your defeat" she replied.

That’s enough, I told my self and unbuttoned three of my shirts top button and said "Can you do this".

There was complete silence in the class followed by the thumping sound of the shoes of my injured solders leaving the classroom and the girls army followed them with a giggling sound. This girl was stuck by both lightning and thunderstorm and stood dumbstruck without a word. I wanted to wave my sword like a victorious solder. I turned around to find the battleground empty. I looked at her. There was no expression on her face, no movement in her body. The bell rang signaling the end of tea break and I walked out to have some water.

When I returned back to the classroom I could find nearly 30 pairs of eye staring at me and murmurs going around. But my eyes were searching for this girl. She was seated on the chair with her head on the desk surrounded by her arms to cover her face. Now my clan of boys was divided into two, one group congratulating me for salvaging the pride and the other saying how could I be so rude. The murmur in the class grew louder with the news spreading faster than a bushfire. The teacher walks in to the classroom and stares at everyone for the noise. The class became silent and everyone stood in the class to greet the teacher except this girl. Teacher walks to this girl, puts her hand on her head and asks” Are you all right."

My heart came out of my mouth. Again the entire class was looking at me and then to this girl. My heart beat grew and the sudden rush of blood gave me a feeling as if some one is hammering my head. My sense of victory was completely engulfed by sense of fear. If she opened her mouth this would be the last class I attend in this school. I would surely be kicked out of the school.

"Yes Miss I am fine" she replied raising her head.

Teacher looked at red eye, to my luck there was no tears in it. " Your eyes are completely red I think you are not well, you can go to the dispensary have some medicine and take rest if you like"

She quietly walked out of the class. I had a sigh of relief. I too wanted to walk out of the class and apologize but my ego came in the middle and stopped me from.

I might have won a small battle but I had lost the war. That was schooldays. If I do any such thing today I would be branded as a Male Chauvinist XXX for such act of sexism.

But toady I am a bit more wiser(With few grey hairs) my judgments and my prejudices have changed and I find that in reality girls as a group and boys as a group are more alike than they are different.

It’s a complete stereotype of the society in which we live. It ascribes characteristics to an individual based solely on group membership. For example, it is a stereotype to assume a tall thin young African male to be a good long distance runner or that an Indian student is good in math.

It’s probably a stereotype of the society to describes how girls and boys are “supposed” to be. It’s probably a stereotype if a boys are encouraged to take up outdoor sports and girls to stay indoor. This stereotype has been fed to us right from our childhood which can be best found in the textbook published by NCERT for a primary school children which has text like "Kamla roti Paka"(Kamla cook chapati), "Ram khelne Ja" (Ram go and Play).

Differences between individual girls or between individual boys are much greater than those between the “average” girl and the “average” boy. Yet we tend to generalize from the “average” girl or boy to individuals. And averages can be very deceiving. Consider: The average temperature of Chennai is 40 degrees — but that tells us little about what the temperature is going to be on any specific day — particularly since in Chennai the temperature can range from 15 to 50.

To conclude - Boys and Girls are equal and should be given equal opportunity to blossom.

The Gong Strikes

In school our activity was dictated by one single object more than anything else. The Gong. We had a love-hate relationship with this metallic object. My first target of the day was to listen to 9:00 gong. In a race I could defeat time but I was rarely able to defeat this 9 o'clock gong aka school bell. I always thought it rang too early. I hated this bell. But sometimes I also prayed that it rings early, on the day I had to recite a poem which I had not by heart-ed. When the gong stuck 3:30, it use to be the happiest moment of our life. It marked the end of school hours and a banging of Happy hours. Once Mr. Banerjee was wicking the entire male population of the class for planting a cracker in bathroom and the bell rang before my turn could come and I was "Saved by the bell".

This story goes way back, when we were school kids - could get away with shorts without anybody giving those "odd" looks. I guess - we were in the ninth grade. Well, probably we had passed the "roaming in the shorts age" but then given our (at least mine) physical development we could have very well be considered in the "shorts" age. Anyway this story has nothing to do with these mundane stuffs. It’s about something more profound, something out of the ordinary, something that happens once in a millennium and I (along with a few of my classmates) was blessed to see this in real action. This is the hilarious story of Mishra (Abhi) and the Gong.

Our school (St. Xavier’s' School, Bokaro Steel City) was divided into four categories. Category 1 was the primary school (Std. I to Std. III) - Before you ladies point out we (Abhi and myself) belonged to this section in terms of out mental age but the teachers were of different opinion. Category 2 was middle school (Std IV to Std VII). Category 3 was high school (Std. VIII to Std X) Category 4 was +2. All the four categories were under different administration (different set of teachers, vice-principals etc). For readers convenience (in case (s)he has not figured out), we belonged to the elite Category 3. As a part of the category 3 administration, a student from Std. IX was given the responsibility of declaring the beginning and end of a class. An electric bell was designated for this purpose; the student had to ring the bell at correct times. Well, given the delicacy of the problem this person had to be a "responsible” one. Essentially this student had the power to determine the duration of a class and the recess. Guess what, the authorities of the 200 students in Std. IX picked up Mr. Abhishek Mishra as the person designated for this task. Abhi with his innocent smiles and sincere looks was able to convince the authorities that he was the perfect candidate. I am not too sure if he still enjoys the same attributes but have heard of his last accomplishment was almost a year back when he was successful in convincing his “princess” to be his "woman" of the life. Anyways, this decision of Abhi being the "bell-master" was welcomed by all of us in the gang - after all we knew the actual person behind the mask. Now the recess time was increased from 45 min. to 51 min. -by cleverly manipulating the time - the last class before lunch and first class after lunch lost 3 min. each. The introduction of Abhi also lead to a much shorter history and geography classes. And to our delight, the class-test no longer were the standard 40 min. test, but a full 45 min. test - those extra 5 min. gave us more time to sneak into the neighbors copy and get a couple of more marks.

But then one cannot have the honey without the bee(s). One day there was a power shortage - phenomenon rare in Bokaro although a part of the then Bihar. During times like these the electric bell did not function and Abhi had to use the metallic gong - This was a big circular metallic disk (made of Copper I believe) and a wooden hammer to strike. The idea being to generate sound waves of high amplitude by striking the hammer against the metal. This gong was placed somewhere in the middle of the building, Abhi had to leave the class and go there. So, Mr. Misha walks to the gong to declare to the rest of the school that the agony for the last 40 min. (the last period) session is about to end and a new one is on the way (the new period). Confidently he picks up the hammer and aims at the metal. To our surprise, the first sound of the gong was unusually weak - very low intensity, as if instead of hitting the metal the hammer had hit something else. What "something else" - it took us 25 min. to discover this. We will come to it shortly. The weak first sound was followed by flurry of more hits on the metal - which was fast compared to the normal "Mishra-hit" frequency. Anyways, the teacher for the next class stepped in, opened her standard book and started talking gibberish - well for me it was for sure gibberish. But there was no signs of Abhi so far - we were all puzzled. My wild imaginations started exploring its own grounds. May be he met "someone nice" on the way and decided to drop the class - well anything is better than the stupid history class. He must have gone to the ice-cream parlor nearby .... Then I cursed my fate for not being selected as the "bell-master". Another stream of thoughts lead me to the idea of Abhi being moved by the chirping birds on the trees and inspired to write a poem. Just for your information Abhi was into writing poems those days. Some of them were really insane - I cannot resist myself from writing one of them which at that time I liked:

" Bhale Sir (head) ke bajaye ho bel (shaved-head) par pocket mein ho kanghi(comb) tel (oil)"

I guess this was a poem about the new generation of students which Abhi despised. We were the elite ones, in case you did not get it.

Coming back to the story - I still remember my promise to talk about that "something else" that the hammer had struck. My imaginations took me to some other places before Abhi broke it by entering in the middle of the class - we were already 25 min. into the class. Turns out part of my imagination was correct, he did have a "company" - the "company" of a nurse who took 20 min to bandage his injured thumb. Yes, Mr. Mishra had struck his thumb with the hammer -it happened something like this. He was holding the gong with his left hand, with the thumb stretched towards the center of the gong. He had the hammer in his right hand and with full force he struck the hammer into his right thumb. So now you know what that "something else" was thatAbhi had struck. The amusing part, if I may say so, was the way he described it. It went something like this - "Kya batayen, ek hath mein gong tha aur ek mein hathora. Humne hathora angoothemein maar liya".

Strange we (the entire class) found amusement in somebody’s agony and foolishness - but that’s what most people are like.

The mystery about the pool of water.

I was in class 7, when my love for my childhood crush erupted like a valcano, and I finally decided to propose her after 9 years of undying love for her that started the day I saw her in kindergarden.I thought of letting her know of my feelings after class hours. But I wanted to be very professional in my approach. So i decided to tell her father about my intentions before I proposed her. So that evening when he came to school to pick her up, I ran to him and this is how our conversation went...

Me: Uncle! How are you
He: I am fine. How are you
Me: I am doing good. Nice weather! Is not it?
(He gave me a doubtful look)
He: Yes. Do you have anything to say to me?
Me: Yes Uncle. This year am studying very well. I have improved in my academics.
He: Thats good. Where do you stand in class
Me: Ofcourse I stand first. Even I do sit in the first row in class
He: I asked you about your class rank
Me: I have improved Uncle. I have climbed two places higher this month.
He: Thats really good. What was your rank last month?
Me: Last month I stood 48/50
( The look on his face changed as if he was suffering from a tummy upset)
He: Ok. Now tell me what You have to talk to me?
Me: Uncle. I have great ambitions in life.
He: Do you want to become a doctor or an engineer? ( A standard question every Uncle used to torture Innocent children like me in the early nineties).
Me: I do not think that my dad would take a risk of pay a capitation fee to get me placed in an engineering college or in a medical college
He: So what do you want to achieve in life?
Me: I would like to be a cricketer.
He: Why are you telling me all these things?
Me: If I become a world famous cricketer, then your daughter would also be famous and You will be proud of me?
(He immediately sensed where I am heading to)
He: Hey little one. Run home soon and Go drink milk and sleep tight.
Me: Uncle! Can I marry your daughter?

He gave a stare which reminded me of the movie "Jurassic park". He parked his bike and walked towards me and called me to come near him in a very harsh tone.He being a Boxer in his golden days scared the shit out of me but being a brave guy, I took a few steps backwards ( Just like a lion before it pounces on its prey) and then stood very boldly and looked into his eyes . He too stopped in his tracks and stood for a moment looked at my shoes and gave a sarcastical smile( That was a smile out of fear. I knew it), turned around and left the place.After he left the place, I looked down to see that I was standing in a pool of water around my feet. The pool of water cannot be attributed to the warmth I felt in my pants when he stared at me.

Heart brocken, I crawled back to my home with a heavy heart. To my surprise I saw her father having tea with my father. Defenetly he had not come with a marriage proposal.