I have been MIA from my blog for close to a month now. Not that anyone noticed :(
This is enough for any self respecting blogger to mend her ways and stop bloggin bakwaas. Infact, it did occur to me, that I could start writing poems (I am pretty good at rhyming, you can check out the creative gems strewn around in my and Bluntu's comment section) or I could start writing dark gory stuff (I have tried that once) or I could write fairy tales vampire tales (love Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer)..but then that puts the people around me at risk. With no place to vent out all the bakwaas energy I have, I tend to torture people around me with my bakwaas stories. I am single mouthedly responsible for my mom losing nearly half her hair, for P losing her hearing and for R suffering a concussion (she banged her head on the wall in frustration).
So, in favor of everyone I love and adore, I decided to go a youth festival organised by the local church, where I could diffuse some of my energy around. All youngsters were invited to be a part of this fun filled weekend where we were stayed in make shift camps and learned to cook, sing and dance. Volunteering for those 2 days made me overcome some of my greatest fears..stage fright and fear of babies..and gave me a amazing set of new friends. I emerged out of this experience a better, more confident person...or so I thought. It was at an outing with these newly found friends last week that terror struck.
There we were enjoying a noisy, fun filled dinner when our laughter caught the attention of a really cute baby on the table behind us. My friends started coochie cooing the baby and filled with newly found bravado, I joined in. The mom was more than delighted to pack the kid off to our table while she cosied up with her husband. My friends started feeding the kiddo cheesy pasta while I sat at a distance, smiling and waving at intervals.
Big Mistake.
One jhalak of my smile and the child was smitten. Waving a fork, he struggled to get into my arms. A child with cheesy pasta stuck to a fork didn’t really look like good news to me and I tried my best to avoid getting close to him. His beady eyes filled with tears and he threatened to bawl any minute.
"Oh come on, he is only a kid....kya kar lega woh" my new found friends chided.
I now know what they mean by peer pressure..it sure makes you do weird things.
Unwillingly, I took the kiddo in my arms.
He smiled an angelic smile.
And poked the fork right into my hair.
A fork filled with kiddie drool and cheesy pasta stuck in my beautifully blow dried hair. His smile turned to giggles and yes, my friends, colleagues, acquaintances joined in too. I am now known as Cheesy head in my new found circle.
So I am back to with my bakwaas to Fullon, the only place where no one laughs at me, where I can share my most embarrassing stories without feeling embarrassed.
This is my 51st post. Still have another guest post to go. But the guest is a ghost. He comes online late at nights when poor little me is fast asleep. Plus, he is too caught up at work and has no time to write a post. The ghost who works!!
So I decided to give Mr Ghost a break and post the 51st myself.
Ghostie, you are now azaad to write whenever you have the time. Thanks for being an amazing friend.
You rock :)