High 5 ? What 4 ?

On a bright sunny morning, a cuckoo flew into my mobile and congratulated the five years of
blogging. 'Five years ! Phew !' Said the mail from the kind soul, amongst other things. 'Kavi's Musings' and five years ?

An extraordinary act of kindness for the cuckoo to look into my archives,keep track and reveal the score.

Ambivalently feeling both like a fossil and a lost in sea survivor arriving to a Republic Day welcome, the eyes popped and the heart beat surged. But five years? I wast sure. Toes and fingers aided counting and as has been the case from second grade, the result was inconclusive.

Profusely thanking the cuckoo and staying comfortable with that confusion, the mind went on a celebratory sepia tinged trip down memory lane.

It all started one Bangalore weekend. With my brother in a act of great kindness teaching some basics of blogging. Armed with fledgling knowledge and feeble know-how and delusion du jour, the tentative steps rolled out. One by one. And have rolled on.

It started with writing for a voice. Meandered to counting comments and then rested on counting 'hits'! It didn't take long to baulk at the meaninglessness of one more set of numbers of think of !

These days, its more about just being myself and having fun ! In some sort of surreal dance of joy to see the posts from fellow bloggers and my own insipid attempts at insight ! (Did i hear you say 'fossil'? )

But hey, its been one heck of journey. One that would not have been possible without readers and co-travellers who have come back for more ! So a big thank you. If you are reading as far as this line of this post !

Given that this blog has side stories for its main story, coupled only with my own amateurish attempts at photography from half a camera, well, gratitude is mandated ! And the writing, well, writing...well, that slope is as slippery as a public toilet !

But, hold on. Am still lurking. Still learning. Still alive. This blog may not be setting the back-alleys of Bombay, Bangalore or Boston abuzz. Heck, it doesn't even light the bulb in the balcony !

But then, it isn't in the lighting up business. What has mattered is the love of friends around the world who have been found, established, rediscovered. The power of ideas exchanged. Calibration of the mind and whiff of what lies on the other side of the green ! Attempting pulchritude in the midst of pervasive pessimism !

Over filter coffee, sepia tone and beaming pride in tow, the missus was informed that the blog completes five years today. Only to be told, with ample evidence and enough proof to send defence lawyers to perpetual retirement, that that the blog is only four !

'Not five'.

Of course the rest of what was said with an arch of the eyebrow, a sniff of the nose and oodles of love, vaguely in the domain of : growth is a slow process and that someday she does hope that i too will grow up, shall remain confined to the safety vaults of harmonious matrimony and world peace.

Heck. So what. Its an anniversary for this blog. Four years is no small time either. Before the missus lands in the scene, give me a High-Five people.

Quick. Before she asks 'What 4' , i must thank you for coming back to this page for more. Such acts of kindness keep the world spinning, i must say. If someone consents to be a chief guest, next year we'll have a party !

(Presiding over a five year heap of posts from a blog like this would require courage, kindness and hope in equal measure ! Think about it. We have a year to go).

For now, i have been holding up my palm in the fond hope that someone will slap my palm and not aim anywhere lower !

High 5 ? What 4 ?

The coronation !

The bells ring clear. Infact, the clang of the cymbals in the hands of the doll, bring about a watering in the mouth that would have made the man Pavlov beam with enough pride that could give the proudest of film stars some hair pulling!

A quick sprint to the balcony shows a genial man with the bamboo pole and a gait that is familiar. The old familiar gait. He looks much older now. 30 odd years have passed. Perhaps more. And they show. With cymbals clanging and the horn tooting.

Thirty plus years could have flown by. But Its time for some toffee now !

Memories of the genial gent, bending to wrap a tender wrist with the pink & white toffee that hitherto resided on the bamboo pole, come rushing back. He use to tie in the shape of a wrist watch ! Over the next half an hour, the kid would walk five and a quarter inches above ground ! Some thing that best of Swiss watches wouldnt give him later in life !

The years show on him too. The bulges and balding are pronounced. The glint of the sun from his Rolex makes him squint. Many watches have sat on the wrist. Many have gone too.

Today, as the cymbals clang, he rushes to the road with the mouth still in hyper 'water' mode !

Off comes the expensive watch.

Much to the amusement of the genial old man, here is a balding bulging chap, in crisp jeans and T-Shirt that would cost as much as the old man’s entire years supply, perhaps two.

Holding out his hand and asking for a new wrist watch ! A pink and white wrist watch made of cheap candy that hitherto resided on the bamboo pole.

The cymbals continue to clang with a ferocity that would have announced a king's coronation.

He wasnt complaining. This infact was a coronation of sorts. He was crowned the kid he was. Armed with the pink and white watch on his wrist, chasing the white cloud and blue sky.

It looked like time had stood still.

The coronation !