Blighted by Blyton

It seems to me reading too much of Enid Blyton or watching too much of Bob The Builder can really addle a small portion of one's brain. A tiny part of mine is indelibly altered by the prolific writer and maybe not in the best way.
Remember the Five O'Clock Tales, The Toys at Night and many more in a similar vein? You know what the similar vein happens to be? I'll tell ya. Toys come alive at night. Inanimate objects actually have opinions about the owners as well as feelings. Sure, Toy Story 1,2 and 3 go on the same lines as do a lot of other films but, Blyton's books and these fantastic ideas have put down roots in my head and its was just a couple of days ago that I suddenly realized that I flinch when I look at dented and scratched up cars as if they are wounded animals. I hate the local meat shop since they ill treat their overworked air conditioner by leaving the huge entrance door wide open all the time!
I live in the controversial capital of the grand old India. The city is the political powerhouse of the country and a host to thousands and thousands of wounded cars. Where I live a stroll through the streets in the dead of night would reveal rows and rows of cars parked carelessly on both sides of the road. Some sleek and shiny like a dainty ballerina. Others in their middle age having suffered the brunt of life (or rather the road) but still going strong. If you love cars or if Enid Blyton has made your imagination richer than it really needs to be your eyes can pick out the ones who bear the scars of their first tryst with the road.
But there is one particular car that screams for help. In the backyard of a building there rests a red Volkswagen Beetle. It's wheels flat, covered in a thick coat of dirt, the interior swathed in cobwebs, and cream coloured seats (not the bucket seat monstrosity but seats belonging to simpler times) still inviting anyone who would have her. It is a vintage beauty ravaged by time and heinous neglect. While the world goes gaga about the latest automobile beauties I dream of that perky red VW bug all cleaned up and sassy waiting for me to get behind its wheel!

Moving Forward

Every blog I started there was often a post where I would treat my trivial pieces with disdain. I never felt like what I wrote for myself was good enough for the world (or the big void called cyberspace) to read. It took me a while to realize that the small pieces I coughed up marked those moments, mostly the little ones, that struck a chord in my soul and maybe contributed a little to the person I am today.
Let me be done second guessing myself and give in to the heady pleasure of creation, the creation of meaning for myself (the world can wait).
I discovered in the last few months that while being rudderless in the ocean of seemingly endless yet frustratingly unattainable educational opportunities took the stuffing out of me it also gave me time to open my eyes a little wider. From meeting an incredibly cool and interesting person on a journey, being gently nudged to a more positive bent of mind, watching a beautiful documentary starring my beloved dogs, experiencing intense joy on hearing about a great singer taking the stage again, falling in love with Clifford Geertz, to experiencing a different dimension of wonderful emotions, my life seems to have gotten re-calibrated for the better while going through the roughest patch till date.
Someone recently commented on the baffling range of dreams and aspiration I horde in my heart forcing to me to appreciate the privilege of my youth and what a lot I can still look forward to experience and achieve.
As I write I wear a smile of contentment albeit overcast with a little bit of cautiousness but nevertheless, joyful.