Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Simple thoughts-Desparate situation
This is an incident from my childhood when I was 7 years of age. It was one hot summer afternoon when I returned home crying. The reason was that I was slapped and beaten that day, by my neighbor and friend, Bobby, who was also of the same age, but was much shorter in height.
I expected sympathy from my parents for having been beaten and roughed up. I was in for a rude shock. My father could not take the fact that I was physically overpowered by a smaller boy. To add insult to injury, I was thrown out of the house with instructions from my father that I would be allowed to enter the house provided I go and thrash the boy who had beaten me. I was in a double-dilemma. Problem number one was how to beat Bobby, as he was stronger than me. The other problem was how to secure a passage back home if I was not to beat Bobby.
I found solace when I narrated my woes to our next door neighbor, a fine lady who offered me some fruits, and then took me back home. She spoke to my father, and convinced him not to put a small child through such a tight spot. My father agreed and I could heave a sigh of relief!
A few years later, when I was about 13 or 14, I took my revenge when I had a quarrel with the same boy, Bobby, which resulted in a fight, and I gave him a neat thrashing. Needless to say, I had my father in mind, when all hell broke loose on the poor guy.
I expected sympathy from my parents for having been beaten and roughed up. I was in for a rude shock. My father could not take the fact that I was physically overpowered by a smaller boy. To add insult to injury, I was thrown out of the house with instructions from my father that I would be allowed to enter the house provided I go and thrash the boy who had beaten me. I was in a double-dilemma. Problem number one was how to beat Bobby, as he was stronger than me. The other problem was how to secure a passage back home if I was not to beat Bobby.
I found solace when I narrated my woes to our next door neighbor, a fine lady who offered me some fruits, and then took me back home. She spoke to my father, and convinced him not to put a small child through such a tight spot. My father agreed and I could heave a sigh of relief!
A few years later, when I was about 13 or 14, I took my revenge when I had a quarrel with the same boy, Bobby, which resulted in a fight, and I gave him a neat thrashing. Needless to say, I had my father in mind, when all hell broke loose on the poor guy.
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