In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Transporter.”
A lot has changed. From the time when a tiny boom box painted the rainbow of sounds across our home, as it churned out melodies after melodies on the radio and cassette player, to today when I have my sound at my fingertips. The smell of food that filled my heart will forever remain attached to the sounds I heard then. I see my mother in the kitchen, now and then. One ever so busy mother, with a job at hand, making sure all’s in order for lunch while me and my brother freshen up and change into regular clothes.
The table cleaned, waiting for a flurry of dishes be placed on it, to embrace them, to taste the curries that filled them. The table loved us. While we dearly waited for my dad to arrive, on his scooter, “Priya”, the sound of which got everyone into action. The table, all dressed, invited the hungry ones. Hungry ones always found the way. What would normally start out as lunch with sun-filled eyes ended in a blur. Somehow I don’t remember a single thing I did after lunch, probably clean the table and sleep was all I did till my pretense of being grown up finally showed through – then I studied, had to, never knowing why.
Today, while I wait for my maid to ring my doorbell and prepare what SHE calls food, I recall those afternoons, for I took them lightly, for they may never happen again. Such sweet memories and each one has a song for it. Like a straw that flows, I’ve seen a lot along the way, things appalling and shambolic, things that make me hum tunes, from the distant past. Tunes I won’t forget. Some Things change and how and Some never can!
Here is one of those tunes that reminds me of those lunches, the siestas and the pretense I now call “Studying” –
Don’t we all want happy faces around us all the time? We are all selfish and in turn want to share the communicable cheerfulness to brighten our own days. Grumpy looking people often make for a bad viewing and… company. Happy people share jokes, make us laugh, spread positive energy with their infectious smiles, and even make some unhappy ones seriously jealous. But have you ever thought why some of us are permanently grumpy? Don’t you think that they too want to flex their cheek muscles at least once every day and smile for a change?
Yes, I am grumpy. I’m told by people that there are, at max, 4 expressions that they’ve seen me wearing. I haven’t practiced them in the mirror. I just look that way. It’s, in all practicality, impossible for me to stay happy and smile all the time, for from time to time, the realities of life keep dawning upon me. Earlier my problem was I wanted to keep everyone else happy. I failed! Then someone, a few years back, told me to start thinking about myself and now my problem is I want to keep myself happy. I’m not fairing any better here as well. My sofa needs cleaning. I need new mattresses. I need a new seating arrangement for my PC at home, new chair and table, more ergonomic. I need to get the engine on my bike repaired and blah blah! I know you don’t want to hear it but that’s precisely how grumpy people talk, BEAR IT!
So what exactly does grumpy mean?
– Bad-tempered and sulky.
– Crabbed; annoyed and irritable.
Synonym – Crotchety!
Just like the way happy and cheerful people have days when they are sad and depressed, we, the grumpy ones; have days when we are Happy and Cheerful for once. It’s difficult for us to leave our comfort zone. Deep down we love the way people hate us, despise us, want to hurt our face so bad, that we look even grumpier. But that’s where we WIN every day. For no one hits us. No one can do a shit about the way we look or behave. All that they can do is look away which is precisely what we want – no attention! It serves me better that I’m introvert as well.
There are several emotions, aren’t they? We sift through plethora of them every day – from happy to sad or angry or empathetic in matter of seconds. It’s these emotions that often drive our moods. These emotions change the way we perceive our world, see its colours, and hear its sound – basically change the way we feel it.
What I find most interesting though is how some emotions bring out the best in you while some doom you to obscurity. These emotions impact our will to achieve like no other person ever can. They impact our state of mind and the vibes coming from us in general. These emotions are quite distractingly very visible and are quite in-your-face.
My mother has one such emotion – anger. She cooks her best food when she is angry. Me and dad used to secretly wish for her to get upset and then cook (psst psst we still wish so). It used to start with an argument between them that I’ll never understand. They never made sense to me. They were so – worldly. Dealing with day-to-day issues that anyone of them could resolve in the blink of an eye. Anyways – food and anger! Yes, this is one complaint my mother always has when she is angry – she keeps saying she hates cooking. That how she hates every moment spent in the kitchen and yet, when she sees dad set the first foot across the threshold of its entrance to cook himself, she’ll jump in and prepare some of the tastiest drool-worthy delicacies, a human will ever taste – all in a fit of rage and knowledge that dad will ruin everything inside the kitchen. The chances of her screwing up the food then drastically reduce to zero. I think most women will relate to this feeling!
And that brings me to my question – what’s the emotion that brings out the best in you?
Mine is anger and I guess this is something my mother has unknowingly rubbed onto me. I think clearer when I’m angry. I say better when I’m angry. My focus dramatically increases even when I’m venting out my anger on something completely unrelated to the real problem. I invariably end up doing all the right things when my hands are shivering with angst. The only problem is – that’s also the only time I’m thinking just for myself and in those on-the-thread moments, I end up hurting a few people.
Okay, then what’s the emotion that brings out the worst from you?
Mine is happiness. Yes, that’s the reason I’m grumpy. Happiness brings out my concern for others which in today’s world, is quite unappreciated. People start to think that I’m interfering with their lives when in the first place they are the ones sitting in my home, sipping beers, and sharing the sorry state of their sorry ass world with me – the most unconcerned person on this planet. People for some reason don’t understand genuine sympathy or empathy now. They fail to acknowledge an unselfish concern for their well-being but who can blame them. We all get ditched so many times and in so many ways, we can’t even rely upon ourselves to trust others and find their true motives, rest aside the chances of us believing anyone else for our good.
I guess I’m searching for unadulterated love, for my love even for myself isn’t enough pure!
It’s just amazing how some of your best memories are from your childhood! And I so wish someone returned those days back to me. All my summers in Itarsi, a dehat (a type of village) in Madhya Pradesh during my days, how liberating were they!
Mangoes, board games, food, berries, watermelons, melons, cricket, sleep and repeat it in any order everyday. That’s how we passed our days then. Some cartoons too along with video games but mostly outdoor sports! Running around the houses, madly in search of the balls, players, riding bicycles, mopeds, jumping! In those days, we didn’t have homework for summer. No pressure like these days. I genuinely feel, the childhood that we lived will never be lived again. Interestingly though, I don’t remember a single night!
Friends and brother were all I searched for in my summer days. My mother took care of the heat. Mango juices, shakes, Aam Panna (I don’t know what else to call it, my Indian readers will understand it. For everyone else kindly Google it. It’s a raw mango cooler) kept me away from any stroke. The trees, the cold floors and the coolers doing their bit too!
And food and food! I just can’t forget the smell of the rotis with ghee and sugar sprinkled on them. I can’t forget the roti’s torn to pieces and milk and sugar. My mother has had me so fallen for her food, I’m still to wake from my dream. I’m since hung over!
How did you celebrate your summer –
- Summer Dreams | The Mirror Obscura
- The Match (Part 6) Oh, Brother | The Jittery Goat
- Summertime Sadness | Life Confusions
- Dark Wings and Peacock Hope: Daily Prompt | ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | The WordPress C(h)ronicle
- DP Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Sabethville
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | littlegirlstory
- DAILY PROMPT: In The Summertime | Melissa Holden
- the party stayed up | y
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime « Mama Bear Musings
- Summertime Sadness: I hope not « psychologistmimi
- “Kinda” Excited to Have a Baby | A Crohnie’s Classroom
- Beyonce Songs That Speak to Me [Part 1] | She Writes
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
- Daily Prompt: In The Summertime- My Future and Past Summertime | Journeyman
- Summer | Kate Murray
- Stop, Summer Time ! | Knowledge Addiction
- In the Summertime – (Daily Prompt) | Roving Bess
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime, HOT Summer and Reading Summer! | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
- Fascinating Bird | wisskko’s blog
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Nola Roots, Texas Heart
- Summertime Hiking|Remind Your Mind | Remind Your Mind
- hot fun in the summertime | eastelmhurst.a.go.go
- My Fav Season… | FREE BIRD
- In the Summertime | Purplesus’ Blog
- Daily Prompt:In The Summertime | My Other Blog
- Seasons and Lessons of Life and Faith | meanderedwanderings
- 7 Reasons Why We Love Summer | Never Stationary
- when they told me that | y
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
- Summertime Truth | Vanessa Elliott
- Summertime in Montreal | That Montreal Girl
- In a nutshell… | cockatooscreeching
- On deck… | Muddy River Muse
- When Summer Comes | Triumphant Wings
- Past and Now | Flowers and Breezes
- In the Summertime | Dragon Droppings
- In The Summertime. | emma blogs
- Daily Prompt: Remembering Summer | Mama Cormier
- Let’s Start a Band | Thinking Diagonally
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | My Atheist Blog
- Summerfest Adventures | RECREATION | WANGSGARD
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Finding Life
- Root Beer | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
- Warming « Averil Dean
- Summertime Blues | Just Visiting This Planet
- Guzzling sweet tea, noshing on peach pie, training up a storm and making new friends: All in a summer day’s work | Institute for Hispanic Health Equity
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | thoughts and entanglements
- When you are waiting for life to start | Boundaries and Edges
- Summertime is Luh-uh Lovin’ | djgarcia94
- DP: SUMMER, GIVE IT TO ME!!!!! | Scorched Ice
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Dreaming of December | undefined by design
- Daily Prompt – In the summertime…. | myjourneyeveryday
- Sweet Summertime Yoga | eat less sugar you’re sweet enough
- Summer | Love.Books.Coffee.
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Ramblings of a Midwest 20-Something
- Summer beat | Miss Moody
- Fast Forward to Summertime | The Fairy tale Daydreamer
- Bye Bye Polar Vortex
- Summer’s Around the Corner | 365 Days of Thank You
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | NOWHERE TO RUN
- Holding back the dark. | Trucker Turning Write
- Daily Prompt: Summer is Forever Love | La Dolce Vita
- I just hope to stay out of jail. | The Land Slide Photography
- Summertime | B.Kaotic
- Summer Time: No | Barbara Pyett
- Summertime Plans: Teaching Summer School | . . . Furthest Sense
- In the Summertime | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
- My Summer | Captured By Kylie Photography
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | The Overwhelmed Undergrad
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | SIM | ANTICS
- I miss summer. | Always Expressive
- Daily Prompt: In the Summertime | Basically Beyond Basic
- Summertime! | Laughing Through Life
- In the Summertime – The Move | Breathe away
- Little Ones | Overcoming Bloglessness
My life is a pizza not many relate to. It has toppings that some like, some don’t yet everyone cherishes! I can’t very clearly define my codes for life (the ingredients) because they keep moulding with every different asshole I meet in a day. But I can certainly try to enumerate them and lets see how it goes. This is a one of a kind exercise and hence, today’s daily prompt will be some fun for me –
1. I don’t give a fuck. I live this line every moment. No matter who you are, what you do, and how you’re related to me (unless you are my family) you can expect a middle finger on your face with a disgusting expression that may spoil your day. Beware!
2. I mean no harm. I am a man of very little means and whatever I go about, holds a meaning solely for me and not you. You were never in picture when the thought crossed my mind and never will be. Only exception is when you’re already informed to hold your pants up to your hole else you may blow in your undies!
3. I respect everyone and this holds till my face emanates acceptance. If I don’t respect you, you’re probably lucky to even converse with me.
4. I genuinely believe in intelligence and logic. You may argue that these terms hold no meaning in certain situations and that some humans coined them for their own perusal but my point is straight – these terms define a territory a human mind must function inside. Anything out of them, must say fun on the face else you don’t deserve my company!
5. Savor my attention. You won’t get it often.
6. My world doesn’t abide by stupid social norms. I do what I do because I want to do it and never for any other reason.
7. Regarding society, it mustn’t exist except for exchanging food. Food says love like nothing else.
8. If you’ve gotten me disinterested, I’m already not listening. If I’m sitting there, trust me that I’m getting paid to do it!
9. Regarding things materialistic – I love Maggi, Pizza, green vegetables, and home cooked food. I hate mostly nothing (that’s because I can’t remember what I specifically hate right now).
10. I’m a great friend and an even more unrelenting foe. I never forget either.
This can make for a great introduction, right? But people tend to run away from people like me except when I’m funny or talking about love.
Thanks for reading though for it was even more fun writing!
Lets see how others walk their lines –
- LOVE, SEX AND SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED DISEASES [Reblog] | She Writes
- Life | Kate Murray
- Texting Or Talking? | The Jittery Goat
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | The WordPress C(h)ronicle
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | mayeverydayahappyday
- Revelation | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
- Patriot | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
- DP Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Sabethville
- Don’t be a d*ck. | thoughtsofrkh
- Walk the Line: Daily Prompt | ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
- do your best and leave the rest to fortuosity | eastelmhurst.a.go.go
- This teacher’s code | One Educator’s Life
- Cherish Time | wisskko’s blog
- rivington | yi-ching lin photography
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
- My codes: A photo essay | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
- [M.M.X.I.V. 89] Texts, letters, talking | Never A Worry
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
- Respect The Artist, Respect The Work | Goodnight Hestia
- Creed « Averil Dean
- Daily Prompt: I Walk The Line-Psychology: Understanding Why We Do What We Do | Journeyman
- Values For Sheen | Flowers and Breezes
- Codes 1, 2, and 3 | Among the Whispers
- What’s My Line(s)? | The Zombies Ate My Brains
- 287. The Moral Compass | Barely Right of Center
- Walking the Mommy Line While out on Business Travel « psychologistmimi
- What Would Life Be without Them? | Ms. Raven Marie
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Completely Disappear
- A Marauder May be a Good Person in Disguise | Virginia Views
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | My Atheist Blog
- We all have values | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
- Taking Off My Shoes | Kosher Adobo
- Difference Engine | Speculative Paradigm Shifts
- life… ruless hahahaha.. it is wrekless | from dusk to dawn….
- Staying in Focus: Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line: Love Will Keep Us Together | Staying in Focus
- I Walk the Line (Daily Prompt) | Roving Bess
- I Walk the Line | The Nameless One
- Having power is not nearly as important as what you choose to do with it | An Upturned Soul
- Daily prompt – i walk the line | myjourneyeveryday
- There is a Bigger Picture.. | B.Kaotic
- “Have You Done Your Chores?” | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
- Where is the Line? | cateritforward
- Live life! | Always was a rebel…
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Bob’s Blog-O-Rama
- Daily Prompt: I walk the line | Simply about Life
- Divergent in Photography and Thought | Pairings :: Art + What Goes With It
- An Uncomplicated Code | The Ravenously Disappearing Woman
- we are born to fail | Musings of a Random Mind
- The Power of Empathy | U Be Cute
- Former Corbett Admin Deputy Secretary Compares Lesbian to Anti-Semite
- The Ear of the Heart | djgarcia94
- The Inherent Inequality of Actions and Words | My Author-itis
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | To Breathe is to Write
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Endurance Training Institute
- Symmetry and Geometries | THE MARRIED MAN WHO LOVES HIS X
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Just Be V
- Daily Prompt: I Walk The Line | imagination
- So…This Is How I Roll | Cats, Coffee, And Life At Random
- My Bro Code | thanks for letting me autograph your cat
- Instinct. | Trucker Turning Write
- The Woman in The Mirror |
- Words To Live By | 365 Days of Thank You
- I would be a writer (should be, could be, am) | keaneonlife
- Walk the Line: Daily Post | Destino
- I Walk the Line | manmadeoceans
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Basically Beyond Basic
- Response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt from March 30, 2014: I Can’t Quit | authordustinweber
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | My Weary Mind
- Daily Prompt: I Walk the Line | Nola Roots, Texas Heart
- Daily Promt: This Much I Know | Morrighan’s Muse
- Sweat it Off | Simplexvita
- Nuggets. | To Love is to Serve
- 28 Life Lessons|Sometimes It’s a Bad Day | melissuhhsmiles
- Daily prompt: Where is The Line? | itsmayurremember
- Daily prompt: Cynical? Moi? | helen meikle’s scribblefest
- A Code of Living | Tonkadella’s Things in Life
There’s a lot of your past you wish you could forget – like erased blank… swish… wiped off of your memory slate. Then there is your past that you just can’t forget. Not that it affects you but its a huge burden on your brain to carry and you wish you could just write it off onto your blog for good. The latter is what this post is about.
A huge house.
Lots of people.
The compulsory siesta.
Kulfi (Sweet Indian summer delicacy).
A lot of people around will find these dots really easy to connect. I want to write it out ’cause I don’t want to retain them yet remember them forever – kind of memoir to myself – only for my personal use. These are recollections from (last) – a 13-year-old fat boy who diluted a relationship on a very bad note and will regret it forever for he never got say the final adieu.
His summer vacations would last for about 75 days as these were the hottest months in his part of the country. All he knew was it was time for indoor afternoons and fun & frolicking evenings with no homework, coolers, mangoes, lychees, lots of sleep, lots of cricket, ludo, carom, puzzle, TV, cartoons, video games. Just him and his brother enjoying and playing with each other. It was a time for all heavenly stuff. Things he never knew, he would love so much but that he would get berated off forever. These days often arrived after he had received his gift for his stand-out performances in school exams – HotWheel cars, cycle, carom board and many others like these. He would be very happy to board the train for that familiar destination. No matter how many times he had been there, it was always fresh for he knew no other world and these represented the only two worlds that he spent his childhood in.
You gotta give it to the place – Jabalpur, Madhya Pradesh, India! Place which gave the world one of the most beautiful scenery in Bhedaghat on the river Narmada. A river bank located purely on marbles! It’s beautiful – the air itself is pure – rather was pure (just been to the place after 11 years and felt a bit let down).
Lets start off with the journey to the place. He couldn’t wait to get inside the train. To get the smell of puri-sabzi at the first station and to feel the wind on his face. To look at the train engines which according to him were a miracle that he could watch everyday on his drive to his school. The rails and the train itself were such a mystery for that small, young mind that he couldn’t (till he got Google) ever fathom how the trains even turned!! The sound of the wheels chugging below his feet, the smoke from the engine entering his nostrils (no matter how gross it would feel to others, he would forever relish that smoke), the sight of the trees passing him by at the speed of light, occasional huts, fields and rails cutting each other running along his train. And then would come the sight he still dreads – a bridge on the river Tawa. The bridge apparently had been labelled dangerous by Indian Railways standards and he would always feel that the train would fall off especially as the bridge had no rails on both the sides. Nothing but a very tall height to fall into. And in between this, a far away sight of a dam. He would always wonder what that dam would look like when in full flow. Never to be experienced though. A lot of stations would pass through for that young mind to remember but he would remember things that made a direct impact on his coming life. He would remember each bridge, each platform, each fort and the smell of each one of them distinctly fresh.
Once he started to near the destination, the air of anticipation would raise the anxiety in his heart for what new and novel would surprise him this time in his second world. Nothing, nothing ever. For nearly 9 years or more on a trot, he would see no significant change. The same route always led him to the same house. The same marketplace, the same buildings, the same under-bridge greeted him. A perfect example of sustainability and persistense.
The house which still stands tall and huge – it reflected the late 80’s Indian modernism. It has seen various colors – white, pink, green and at one instance, he could also remember yellow. Six rooms on the ground floor divided by a wall with 2 doors to connect the 2 sections built with 3 rooms each. The first floor, built quite late is a replica of the section below from the ground floor with rooms that were larger. But no matter what you did and where you were in the house, it always gave the same feel everywhere every single time (wish I had some pictures).
Their welcome was always the same – Nani (maternal grand-mother) would shower them with holy Ganga water and then the entry. Keep the luggage at the proper place and room. Then go about the chores in the house according to time you make an entry in it.
Coming to the chores, a typical day in that household would be something as follows:
Wake up… roll up your bed… place it at its proper place… brush the teeth and freshen up… then it was a choice to either sit with Nanaji (maternal grand-father) and Naniji or go upstairs and have tea with a younger group which included Mama (moms bro), Mami ( Mamas wife) and their children. It was a happening group and he would prefer spending time with anyone but would prefer a place where his mother would prefer to be. Then after a heavy breakfast would be time for a bath in the cold water in the Indian summer… somehow the water always suited him more than any place else. A very clean feel after a bath. Then was the time for indoor games played between all brothers and sisters. This would normally be the time women around would engage in their household works, men would leave for office and Nanaji would spend time reading the newspaper. Games would often include Boggle, ludo, carom and sometimes if the noon was cooler, some cricket as well. He would never forget the days when all of them brothers and sisters would play together in the small porch and the sisters would just cower into corners so they don’t have too get involved in the game. Fun times they would stay. The afternoons comprised of a mandatory siesta. No exceptions for anyone in the household. No sounds. No lights. He hated that period. For he could hardly wait for evenings that would include a heavy dose of cricket, dust, dirt. No matter who would play against him, he would have had to face the boys wrath with the bat. Then return home, for now would be the time for watering the garden and the plants using the water from the hand pumps. This was the best part of his days. The freedom that was allowed to him to perform this chore would be something he would sorely miss all through his life – but he didn’t know it then. All he knew was porch was hot and plants needed water. Water the plants. Then would be turn to get drenched in the same water. This was time to get wet. To get wild with and in water. Unforgettable freshness. Change and then would be the time for dinner. Supper supper supper… super super super… nothing could beat that food for it was his mother that would cook the rotis, dal, veggies and rice. This was normally the time when Mama would return home and after dinner, he would often buy us kulfis. This would also be the time when the entire family would come out into the porch and walk for a while all the while laughing at jokes cracked. In the mean time, the siblings would find time to swing in a swing. It was built to carry at max 4 people at a time, was sturdy and brought with it the feeling of a drowning night. An awesome day was over. Now was the time to show the mosquitoes the power of Baygon. Complete house would get a dose of it. Satisfied with the results, each member would bring their bed and would face absolutely no problem in laying down and sleeping but not before Mama would make his presence felt again. He would make each of the siblings kneel in line on the beds and make them repeat the mantra – La Ila… Il Lil La… Mohammed-e-Rasgullah. Fun it was and it would repeat 60 of the 75 days he would spend there.
He particularly waited for Sundays. They were usually the days when Mama would take them all for a swim in the river Narmada – Gwarighat. Back then, the way to the river was through a jungle, a sparsely populated area. Upon arrival they had to cross the river on a boat which was an absolutely out of the world feeling. To feel the river on his palms would heighten his anticipation of how water would feel like. It was truly amazing! Take off all your extra clothes, get down to your bare essentials and jump into the river. This was where he learnt to swim and he would forever respect the man who taught him to swim (Mama) and the river for letting him learn to swim in it. A good 2-3 hours of frolicking in the water would barely leave him with any energy and when out, they would all dress again and cross the river again on a boat. The sinking feeling of the separation from water would forever lure the boy. But life had to move on and to the next shop upstairs on the ghat. The shop where Mama would make each one of them indulge into Bhajiyas and laddus. He would then be totaled. Even with absolutely nothing left in his body to endure the remaining of the day, he would remain jubilant and never know that he was tired to shit pieces. The first foot on the bed when home, would cover his body with the most tantalizing freshness of a sleep so richly deserved (or thats what he thought).
There had to be days when he had to go and meet his father’s family members. It was normally a day worth of affair and spent peacefully. They were nothing special except for some cricket that he would get to play with his elder brothers.
He loved it and would forever love it. Those days would define his character for the rest of his life. He would learn a lot from those days but the best lesson was – hard work always tastes bitter but reaps sweet rewards.
The child has grown up to be 29 now but nothing would make him forget his longing for the water and he would still dream in red!
Yummmmyyyyyyy…. man I’m so glad that I love food!!! I can eat it all and savor it all!!
I just forwarded this to my wife. Yummyyyy!!!
This one is going into my Sunday afternoon menu!