These Boots Were Made for Walking

Shall I tell you about the warm, fur lined boots I wore in winters few? They were nice and comfy and picked up cheap to face my first snow, but I couldn’t walk comfortably in them. They sure saw a lot of the wall behind the shoe closet. Or shall I tell you about the casual slipons I picked up for even cheaper, but who stayed with me miles? They covered a lot of ground, and I with them. Or how about the stilettos I daringly bought, doubting I’d wear them at all, but I did, inspite of the sharp click clack of every step on the uncarpeted office floor? And the shiny golden sparkly low heels, meant to be worn for festivities, picked up because inside every sensible woman resides a little girl who loves all the fancy glitter?

Do you want to hear about the annual pair of functional, no nonsense ‘rainy wear’ that’s a must for every Indian monsoon; it doesn’t throw up mud, you know? And the numerous other non monsoon pairs, utilitarian and plebian? Why? Only because they help a girl run and catch a bus to the places she’s going. Do you want to know about my first pair of adult sneakers, still languishing in a closet somewhere? I never could throw them out; is it because we have memories together, them and me, of traipsing in foreign places, collecting odd dirt and flotsam on the way?

Can I cuss the formal black pair that fell apart on me in a strange country where no one else seemed to wear my shoe size? Oh the superglue that I depended on for long! Or those wonderful looking sandals that turned traitor the moment they came home with me, and gave the worst case of shoe bite in the history of all shoeland? Or those delicate strappy things that always look so good but should come with a warning “Do not walk with these on, you’re sure to break something.”

Or how about we speak of the countless other pairs that are not mine, yet? They lie on the shop shelves, waiting for me to journey with them, to places we have both never been yet.

Written for the daily post’s prompt: These boots were made for walking.

A pinch of you

This week’s writing challenge is absolutely gorgeous. It asks for ‘your best recipes’ .. all the bits and pieces and quirks and foibles and loves that make you you. And while I am not writing out a recipe about me (not yet, not yet, anyway), here’s what I made up about my niece, who I totally gush over as can be seen. And I loved writing this so much, I figure there are going to be a lot more posts on this recipe theme. A lot more.

Good things come in small packages. Here’s the littlest one. This is a work in progress, so the recipe and ingredients will change over time and places and reactants and scenarios.

This small package is currently all knees and elbows, which seem about a hundred. Count multiple times until you get the figure down to two of each. Once that’s settled, look for the 2 really lovely large eyes. What these hint towards I can’t tell you, but it has been known to range from mischief, tears, smiles, wonder, absolute happiness to coyness as well. Make no mistake, there is a lot more, and, you can’t choose. You take what you get.

Next, voice. Figures, right? After the sight comes the sound. Varies from the happyish head over heels babble to the soft slop of the sucked thumb to the rare angry rageful shout. Oh and sometimes an excited scream, when objects of affection like mama and baba and mango pulp are nearby.

These major things when you mix together, you get a sweet armful of baby to cootchie coo with. No wait, you don’t get that armful of baby, ‘coz that armful pulls your hair and pushes out legs and demands to be set down, at which point those hundred knees and elbows are promptly put into motion and used to scarper away at a speed of 100 times light to act out another mischief.

Y’all, (if there’s a y’all still remnant) , I’m breaking away from my usual topics and rants to post something different.

My brother, whose links and art I had last posted here, has now put up on his blog;

[ART] Call for Topics : For a cause

So read this — If you, or anyone you know, suffers from any kind of disorder / disability and would like to use my Art towards some positivity and happiness, please drop me a comment below and i will draw a silhouette-painting for you. ….

You can read the full post on his blog, and yes, he does this as a hobby and will not charge anything.

So go ahead; read, see, comment; if you like the concept and the art, share with your people, put it on FB, twitter, whatever. ‘Coz a little bit of good can go a long way.

Graffiti/Gyaan

Seen on a board at an Autorickshaw parking place.

“You’re soul responsible for your own vehicle.”

Very, very bad English. Or very, very good philosophy. Take your pick.

Lost my mojo, need a refill. Anyone know where I can buy a cuppa?

The Glass

Daily Prompt: Is the glass half-full, or half-empty?

2 beers. Comin’ right up.

Pour, slosh, tap tap drip. Some beer ends up on the polished and drunk wood. Hell, with the amount of alcohol it imbibes in one night, it wouldn’t be allowed to be in the passenger seat even.

Sip, glug, drink drink drink. Wait, the beer is now at that mark. Half. Now let the debate start.

“Groan”

Half empty fellas. I could use some more. Pour. See? It took in more, it was half empty.

Half full, I say. I am still drinkin’ outta it. Ain’t I? Couldna do that if it was empty.

Half empty Jed, half empty.

Yea, is the same. Empty by full or empty by half, I’ll have none of it. It has beer enough for me to drink, so half full it is.

And so the debate goes on into the night.

All right guys, I gotta close up now. Can’t have y’all sitting here thru’ the night, the missus will have ma head.

Everyone filters out.

“Sigh”

Wipe glasses clean, upend them on shelves. Switch off the lights and close shop.

“Y’know, I never got that debate.”

“Aah, not you too!”

“Well why not, they are talking about us anyway.”

“You figure? It’s life, idiot. They talk about life.”

“I know. And I prefer empty, the day’s end, rest. Not the constant wet wet work. We have a life too, y’know.”

The Text, Text, Text, Text World

Daily Prompt: How do you communicate differently online than in person, if at all? How do you communicate emotion and intent in a purely written medium?

Communication online is a completely different ball game as compared to in person. In person communication is so much more interactive and dynamic. The process of communicating with someone face to face has so many layered nuances that each of us takes in subconsciously. And we use those nuances, again mostly subconsciously, to correspondingly frame our next sentence. You know, the other person’s body language, the other person’s voice, tone, volume, pauses, comfort level, the ambience around you, other people weaving in and out of the area, and thus, in and out of your conversation. So many things that subtly impact your communication. So many added layers, and yes, so many potential distractions as well; background sounds, the facebook/twitter updates sneaked in on the phone, the scanning of the background to search for other people. All these things colour up in person communication.

Now online, say on chat, or on any other purely written medium, so much of that ‘noise’ is filtered out. You get space, and time to think before you react. There are much less influences on your immediate and active thought train. How people use that noise free and sterile environment to react is upto each individual. I find it easier to be open, candid, more sharing,more accepting, less defensive when I am communicating online. The downside of communicating in a purely written medium is; all those nuances are lost. You don’t really know where the other person is coming from. You have a range of emoticons to use and slang /textspeak, which helps to bridge the gap, but really, that’s about it. Just the written word layered over with a veneer of smileys and abbreviations. Compare that to the 4, 5, 6 layers in personal communication, and you’ll find which style has more information, more metadata, more juice to get it going.