It was a sunny day, probably a monsoon day but a sunny one. I don't remember if they called us or we, me and my brother, were already there playing something which children of that age played. I was about 12 or something and my brother two years older which he is even now.
So, let's skip to the part when we were there standing in front of that door. The poor wooden door riddled with cracks throughout its years old blue paint, weathered across the spectrum of seasons that we have around the tropics. It stood as the main entrance to the smallest house in our neighborhood. The folks who lived there were umm.. quite interesting. They may not be the regular uncle, aunty and the kid, but they were umm... pretty interesting.
The uncle was a normal uncle-looking guy with a pot belly thin hair and a moustache. He had a strong Kanpuriya(UP-wala) accent and was a fan of Robin Singh. When the aunty and the kid would be away for some days he would say that he would have fish and chicken at the Chetak hotel for dinner, but would instead cook and have khichdi everyday. The aunty was a skinny sari-wearing, aunty-looking woman. She was a lecturer of Chemistry at the local college, but she always acted like a 10 year old girl jumping around and making faces. Well, she had a really skinny face with big teeth so, now I realize she might not have been making those faces intentionally after all. But overall she was a nice lady. At least she never hit me even when I made fun of her. Maybe she never understood. Hmm... never mind. And the kid was same as my age, he was my classmate in fact. I would've called him a normal 12 year old kid if he didn't have that bald patch, about a third of his scalp, on the right side of his head which was due to his "habit" of tearing his hair out one by one and, as he explained it to me, sucking them. Well, except that he was quite normal but wore his pants high, ate toothpaste, didn't wear any underwear, and considered me, who had pulled down his pants in public(literally) many times, his best friend. Well, in a class when we were told to write a letter to our best friend I addressed it to him because I knew that no one else was going to, so, that's me sometimes.
Oh, I almost forgot that we were talking about that door. So, the door was jammed most probably due to the rains, wood swelling due to absorption of water and all. And the uncle was on some business tour or something and the aunty and the kid were stuck outside. So, we were there to take care of that and we decided to kick the door open. Well, what better plan would you expect from a 12 year old me high on cartoons, martial arts movies, and video games. The plan was quite clear, I go running towards the door and flying-kick it open. But my brother wanted to go first and so he went on and kicked the door, but it didn't open. So then it was my turn. I made my superhero face, gathered my chi, took my run up, jumped, flew and kicked the door with all my momentum, but the door didn't budge. So, the plan failed. So then we needed a new plan. And we came up with one - keep on kicking the door until it opens up or breaks down. Quite surprisingly the aunty agreed to the "new" plan. So, we took turns and kicked the door again and again. Fortunately, the door opened up with one of my fine super-chi-powered flying kicks. My brother would like to claim that it was his kick that loosened up the door before my final kick, but how can we ever know.
So, that was that about that door. I guess the same door still stands there filed at the edges, in front of that Jamun tree.
And that was that about that.
Peace.
So, let's skip to the part when we were there standing in front of that door. The poor wooden door riddled with cracks throughout its years old blue paint, weathered across the spectrum of seasons that we have around the tropics. It stood as the main entrance to the smallest house in our neighborhood. The folks who lived there were umm.. quite interesting. They may not be the regular uncle, aunty and the kid, but they were umm... pretty interesting.
The uncle was a normal uncle-looking guy with a pot belly thin hair and a moustache. He had a strong Kanpuriya(UP-wala) accent and was a fan of Robin Singh. When the aunty and the kid would be away for some days he would say that he would have fish and chicken at the Chetak hotel for dinner, but would instead cook and have khichdi everyday. The aunty was a skinny sari-wearing, aunty-looking woman. She was a lecturer of Chemistry at the local college, but she always acted like a 10 year old girl jumping around and making faces. Well, she had a really skinny face with big teeth so, now I realize she might not have been making those faces intentionally after all. But overall she was a nice lady. At least she never hit me even when I made fun of her. Maybe she never understood. Hmm... never mind. And the kid was same as my age, he was my classmate in fact. I would've called him a normal 12 year old kid if he didn't have that bald patch, about a third of his scalp, on the right side of his head which was due to his "habit" of tearing his hair out one by one and, as he explained it to me, sucking them. Well, except that he was quite normal but wore his pants high, ate toothpaste, didn't wear any underwear, and considered me, who had pulled down his pants in public(literally) many times, his best friend. Well, in a class when we were told to write a letter to our best friend I addressed it to him because I knew that no one else was going to, so, that's me sometimes.
Oh, I almost forgot that we were talking about that door. So, the door was jammed most probably due to the rains, wood swelling due to absorption of water and all. And the uncle was on some business tour or something and the aunty and the kid were stuck outside. So, we were there to take care of that and we decided to kick the door open. Well, what better plan would you expect from a 12 year old me high on cartoons, martial arts movies, and video games. The plan was quite clear, I go running towards the door and flying-kick it open. But my brother wanted to go first and so he went on and kicked the door, but it didn't open. So then it was my turn. I made my superhero face, gathered my chi, took my run up, jumped, flew and kicked the door with all my momentum, but the door didn't budge. So, the plan failed. So then we needed a new plan. And we came up with one - keep on kicking the door until it opens up or breaks down. Quite surprisingly the aunty agreed to the "new" plan. So, we took turns and kicked the door again and again. Fortunately, the door opened up with one of my fine super-chi-powered flying kicks. My brother would like to claim that it was his kick that loosened up the door before my final kick, but how can we ever know.
So, that was that about that door. I guess the same door still stands there filed at the edges, in front of that Jamun tree.
And that was that about that.
Peace.
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