AFTER DEATH 2012
If only there was a synonym for craziness, hard to say if bees are crazy, but I must have been crazy to be born to a house with people who were recluses. Their aloofness got them to a stage where they neither desired nor asked for anything more than my time whenever they were home. I remember as a kid I slept, most of times atleast, wake up for my milk and bread or whatever was being served. I liked the food that my folks ate more than the food that was prepared for me. Their food had flavour and taste or was it just the fact that I got used to, maybe, too used to my food. I m told that our hair is a tribute to the kind of food that we eat and my hair was long and silky. I didn't smell of anything except my own natural smell. Mamma was the one who gave me my sophistication and Papa my adventurous trait. I would run around the house for hours around papa and he would pamper me endlessly.
Don't remember too much of my childhood but unlike most young ones, I had papa as my mother and father when I was small. He would take care of my food and upbringing, even potty training was his introduction. Later when I grew older he would take me places in his car, even remember once in a park how while playing I nearly ran him down. I could run at top speed, loved grass and loved even more having a bath on my own in cold running waters. Summers made me sweat and cold running water was a treat I looked forward to every evening with Papa. It all depended on how was mamma's scheduled, she was busy, and to make up for lost time she would get great chicken and mutton treats whenever she was late. I missed my childhood as I grew up, and then one fine day they left me for almost a year. Mamma was gone longer and Papa came back earlier. They had both changed, but their love for me had grown immensely. Always Papa's buddy I could now look forward to long walks where we ruminated about life, sit and think.
I remember the day when papa saved me from this big stud who thought it was his moral right to bully anyone who came his way, bully, "my god!, he would have killed me had it not been for papa". This happened 5 am early in the morning when we went for a customary walks, this brute tried to manhandle me for no apparent reason and thats when papa took things into his own hand and shouting abuses controlled the ogre. I had never seen papa raging and fuming like that ever before in 9 years and it made my chest rise with pride. It was wonderful sight, papa screaming and blowing hot air through his nose with his face all red. Sight to behold indeed and these memories are etched in my mind, he really was my dream man. Somebody who could be gentle and ferocious at the same time. Ferocious if that threshold of patience was breached. It seemed to never happen in my presence until this day when I actually saw him fuming like a bull with his feet scraping the ground and spewing dust all ready to take charge and blow anyone, who thought otherwise, out of sight. Shiver me timbers.
If only there was a synonym for craziness, hard to say if bees are crazy, but I must have been crazy to be born to a house with people who were recluses. Their aloofness got them to a stage where they neither desired nor asked for anything more than my time whenever they were home. I remember as a kid I slept, most of times atleast, wake up for my milk and bread or whatever was being served. I liked the food that my folks ate more than the food that was prepared for me. Their food had flavour and taste or was it just the fact that I got used to, maybe, too used to my food. I m told that our hair is a tribute to the kind of food that we eat and my hair was long and silky. I didn't smell of anything except my own natural smell. Mamma was the one who gave me my sophistication and Papa my adventurous trait. I would run around the house for hours around papa and he would pamper me endlessly.
Don't remember too much of my childhood but unlike most young ones, I had papa as my mother and father when I was small. He would take care of my food and upbringing, even potty training was his introduction. Later when I grew older he would take me places in his car, even remember once in a park how while playing I nearly ran him down. I could run at top speed, loved grass and loved even more having a bath on my own in cold running waters. Summers made me sweat and cold running water was a treat I looked forward to every evening with Papa. It all depended on how was mamma's scheduled, she was busy, and to make up for lost time she would get great chicken and mutton treats whenever she was late. I missed my childhood as I grew up, and then one fine day they left me for almost a year. Mamma was gone longer and Papa came back earlier. They had both changed, but their love for me had grown immensely. Always Papa's buddy I could now look forward to long walks where we ruminated about life, sit and think.
I remember the day when papa saved me from this big stud who thought it was his moral right to bully anyone who came his way, bully, "my god!, he would have killed me had it not been for papa". This happened 5 am early in the morning when we went for a customary walks, this brute tried to manhandle me for no apparent reason and thats when papa took things into his own hand and shouting abuses controlled the ogre. I had never seen papa raging and fuming like that ever before in 9 years and it made my chest rise with pride. It was wonderful sight, papa screaming and blowing hot air through his nose with his face all red. Sight to behold indeed and these memories are etched in my mind, he really was my dream man. Somebody who could be gentle and ferocious at the same time. Ferocious if that threshold of patience was breached. It seemed to never happen in my presence until this day when I actually saw him fuming like a bull with his feet scraping the ground and spewing dust all ready to take charge and blow anyone, who thought otherwise, out of sight. Shiver me timbers.
