Tag Archives: project work

OUR KIDS July 2015


Saintly cargoes in sailing coffins

The creases on the forehead aren’t creases. They’re the defined gifts of knowledge. They’re the lifelines of experience, and one should stand on tiptoes to see them. And when one’s carried by the throng of the crowd nearer and nearer towards the forehead that possesses these lines, one should stoop low, so low that your own forehead touches the feet which carries that other one.

Gods walk free in this country. They walk in shoes of leather, wear branded clothes and walk amongst us. They have slick black beards, oiled and taken care of; they have valets and maids at their beck and call. And wherever they go, they spread sunlight.

The Science of Mischief

There would be few children who haven’t read George Marvellous Medicine. And there would be fewer still who haven’t heard about its author, Roald Dahl. His books have showed both young and old alike the magnificence of imagination.

George’s Marvellous Medicine was a book I read so many years ago. But a few days ago, I came across a child of my mom’s friend, who was frowning over this book. I sat next to him, a kid no more than seven or eight years of age, who clutched the dog-earned book with a casualty that edged on boredom. “What’s that, Kevin?” I asked.

“It’s this book mom chose for me,” he said, “It’s so dumb!” I was quite surprised. When I was his age, my friends and I would be waiting at the doors of the library to grab the book when it was returned by someone else.

The cornucopia of my dreams

When I was 7, I did not know what a cornucopia was. But even then, I dreamed about what I wanted inside the cornucopia. The abundance of chocolate, or Hello Kitty merchandise, toys…

7 years later, when I knew what a cornucopia symbolized, the tastes had changed to look at it as an overflowing container of health, being fit and a lot of non-material things between the infinite amount of material possessions, ranging from gadgets to makeup to stationary.

Two years from that date, what do the cornucopia of my dreams overflow of?

Of vacuum. The strong scent of not being. Maya. Confusion. Questions. Books. Preparing to graduate out of school. Books. To-do lists. Noise, Empty Spaces. Confined Spaces. Deaths. Funerals.


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