May gaya, June aur school aye, mused Shreya. Shreya, Chiyu, Aji and Ajoba were levitating on paper plates of bhel puris and samosas under a tamarind tree at Gupta Centre, Shanti Ashram. With every spoon of wind, fell a cluster of tamarind leaves on them and their eats forming leafy layers. May is ever the best and May 2016 was perhaps tops, a 10 upon 10. May sun was refusing to shut down as Ajoba wiped his bare head with a page of Times of India given free by Gupta Centre. They trudged LIC Colony behind Shreya and Chiyu on cycles yelling Aggobai, Daggobai, a video shared by Aji with the entire world. Yes, this May was sure fine. A new, spacious house pecked by a large family of pigeons at Borivili; a society with some greenness for kids to see and know grass; Shreya and Chiyu played, played, played; ate, ate, ate; slept, slept, slept. Dakhi refused offers on phones and whatsapp from coaching classes to diddle Shreya and Chiyu into scholars; 'let them be,' Dakhi said and Papa entirely agreed; trainers called up to help get Chiyu into sprinting shape for the Rio Olympics; Dakhi said no and Papa clapped the decision. Aji and Ajoba somersaulted. They could have Shreya and Chiyu for themselves, entirely, in May. 'They have decided to freedom Shreya and Chiyu,' roared Aji twice over to a 25 per cent deaf Ajoba. Aji and Ajoba, when at school, if ever, played out May; murukku, tattai, wadas and dosas plenty. They did not read books, Ruskin Bond or otherwise; and in May, free and sparrow play is better than Bond; Shreya and Chiyu did not run their eyes on Marathi and English alphabets. They went here and there, Kidzania and water kingdoms, but mostly at home with Buttu, Sailu, and a dozen boys and girls. At 11, they assembled at Chiyu's home; went down to play cricket, cycle, swings, a few blow-ups over whether Chiyu was out or not; by two met again for lunch with Dakhi readily dreaming up lunches with fish and chicken; dancing noons to film music; the lot filed into Maxus for Jungle Book and Sairat; they have seen Sairat three times and plan to view it a fourth time. And evenings, at the lawns; for them the sun never set, the moon never rose; the earth did not rotate on its axis. For favours done, Aji made Gits gulab jamuns; did not offer a single jamun to Ajoba; 'all for Shreya, Chiyu and friends,' Aji said; an auto carried the jamuns; the door bell rang; walked in Aji with Ajoba holding the packed jamuns; a roar; Aji and Ajoba got loose legged; Shreya, Chiyu broke in; stood a crowd of live jamuns; gulab jumauns live. May promised another May as May walked away.
Friday, June 3, 2016
May
May gaya, June aur school aye, mused Shreya. Shreya, Chiyu, Aji and Ajoba were levitating on paper plates of bhel puris and samosas under a tamarind tree at Gupta Centre, Shanti Ashram. With every spoon of wind, fell a cluster of tamarind leaves on them and their eats forming leafy layers. May is ever the best and May 2016 was perhaps tops, a 10 upon 10. May sun was refusing to shut down as Ajoba wiped his bare head with a page of Times of India given free by Gupta Centre. They trudged LIC Colony behind Shreya and Chiyu on cycles yelling Aggobai, Daggobai, a video shared by Aji with the entire world. Yes, this May was sure fine. A new, spacious house pecked by a large family of pigeons at Borivili; a society with some greenness for kids to see and know grass; Shreya and Chiyu played, played, played; ate, ate, ate; slept, slept, slept. Dakhi refused offers on phones and whatsapp from coaching classes to diddle Shreya and Chiyu into scholars; 'let them be,' Dakhi said and Papa entirely agreed; trainers called up to help get Chiyu into sprinting shape for the Rio Olympics; Dakhi said no and Papa clapped the decision. Aji and Ajoba somersaulted. They could have Shreya and Chiyu for themselves, entirely, in May. 'They have decided to freedom Shreya and Chiyu,' roared Aji twice over to a 25 per cent deaf Ajoba. Aji and Ajoba, when at school, if ever, played out May; murukku, tattai, wadas and dosas plenty. They did not read books, Ruskin Bond or otherwise; and in May, free and sparrow play is better than Bond; Shreya and Chiyu did not run their eyes on Marathi and English alphabets. They went here and there, Kidzania and water kingdoms, but mostly at home with Buttu, Sailu, and a dozen boys and girls. At 11, they assembled at Chiyu's home; went down to play cricket, cycle, swings, a few blow-ups over whether Chiyu was out or not; by two met again for lunch with Dakhi readily dreaming up lunches with fish and chicken; dancing noons to film music; the lot filed into Maxus for Jungle Book and Sairat; they have seen Sairat three times and plan to view it a fourth time. And evenings, at the lawns; for them the sun never set, the moon never rose; the earth did not rotate on its axis. For favours done, Aji made Gits gulab jamuns; did not offer a single jamun to Ajoba; 'all for Shreya, Chiyu and friends,' Aji said; an auto carried the jamuns; the door bell rang; walked in Aji with Ajoba holding the packed jamuns; a roar; Aji and Ajoba got loose legged; Shreya, Chiyu broke in; stood a crowd of live jamuns; gulab jumauns live. May promised another May as May walked away.
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