Things A Kid Said

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Battling The Bulge

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Would You Still Grudge Them Their Pay And Vacation?

if you knew about their job hazards?

Teacher_classroom Goa News

In a class on English grammar:

Teacher: ‘What’s the difference between “He cleans the plate” and “the plate is cleaned by him”?’

Student: ‘In first instance, ‘He’ is not married and in the second, ‘He’ is married.’

😊😊😊😊😊😊

Teacher: ‘’John is climbing a tree to pick some mangoes.’ Now begin the sentence with ‘Mangoes’.’

Student: ‘Mangoes, John is coming to pick you.’

😊😊😊😊😊😊

Teacher: ‘What do you call mosquitoes in your language?’

Student: ‘We don’t call them, they come on their own.’

😊😊😊😊😊😊

टीचर: ‘जब मैं तुम्हारे जितना था तो मेरे मैथ में हमेशा 100 में से 100 नम्बर आते थे।’
छात्र: ‘आते होंगे सर, आपको कोई अच्छा टीचर पढ़ाता होगा।’

Teacher: ‘When I was at your age, I always scored 100 out of 100 in Maths.’

Student: ‘I believe you, Sir. You must have had a teacher so good…’

😊😊😊😊😊😊

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Source: facebook.com/ushanarayananauthor and pinterest.com

It Happens…

First of a series of short vignettes on life around as seen, heard, felt or even read about:

I was on my morning ritual – walking around the outer periphery of Diamond Garden near where I live, with an enthusiasm that wasn’t exactly gushing, taking in the usual sights: other walkers speeding past me with an ease that at first annoyed me to no end, now at peace with it; straight-from-Nashik farm vegetables sold in a brisk but unlicensed trade under the fear of sudden raids and confiscation by allegedly-bribe-taking authorities; a motley bunch of young and old of both sexes collecting inside the Garden, flinging their limbs about as directed by a trainer and emitting noises from the deep-end of their voice boxes like they do in a movie on martial arts; an enterprising middle-aged lady serving, in small plastic cups designed to hold only a little more than a spoon-full, a chlorophyll-rich herbal concoction of ingredients pulled from half-a-dozen polished containers, perhaps to make up for an husband idling or lying senselessly drunk at home; another bunch, mostly in their sixties and above, in casual postures, letting out bursts of loud mirthless laughs – do these qualify for health benefits? – sure to  startle the unwary; a homeless guy looking like a runaway from coal mines, sitting feet up on one of those shiny steel benches reading a newspaper in English; …

I’m digressing.

Into what was my third round I think, this man crossed my path heading somewhere beyond the Garden, clad in a black dhoti usually worn by Ayappa devout’s, unshaven, with a small sandal-paste-kumkum tilak on his forehead.  As he pulled ahead of me, as they all do…ugh…, I read ‘TATAVAMSI’ printed at the back of a sleeve-less jacket he wore over his shirt. I was intrigued. One has heard of many vamsam’s (lineages) named after illustrious guru’s, acharya’s and even venerable rishi’s from mythology. But a vamsam by this name TATA – this was a new one for me. Who was this TATA his grandchildren so proudly and publicly announce to the world? Why not take his name? The word means grandfather in Thamizh.

Well, the question remained in my head for a few moments, going out of my mind no sooner he went out of my sight.

Then, it was not to be. In my penultimate round executed more in joy than in breath – the end was in sight, you know – this guy was walking right back along the same way he had gone, crossing me again. Curiosity could not be contained. I stopped him in his stride to ask him politely who was this TATA and what was grand about his grandfather that he went about carrying the old man on his back instead of in his heart as the usual practice was. He was startled out of his wits to be suddenly accosted by a perfect stranger and hit straight out of the blue with a query that made no sense to him even after he recovered his wits about him. Helpfully I drew his attention to the words he carried on his back.

‘Oh,’ he burst out laughing, ‘Sir, it’s nothing about my poor diseased TATA who would have given his life to belong to a worthy vamsam, it’s TATVAMASI.’

No elaboration was needed for the profound advaidhik pronouncement from the scriptures.

‘Oh,’ I said.

Moving on, mercifully and gracefully he didn’t make it worse for me. Having said that, I must also tell you this – at my age, it takes lot more than this for me to be shamed, a limit not challenged yet.

At the same time, inescapable’s cannot be ducked for long, Regrettably it looks like the long delayed visit to my doctor would be sooner than I had planned for my cataract. Though it would still leave me with the flawed ‘auto-suggest/correct’ feature embedded in my grey cells unfixed.

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Never Trust Godmen!

One never knows which side they’re on:

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Be Warned If You’re Planning To Start A Family

Calvin and Hobbes

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Musings Of An Idle Philosopher

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