I met Uncle K after so many years…that was fun…he throw a party for all the relatives and I am now as he said left by family alone here I has to join.
As usual…hmm...when you meet after very long time any of your friend or acquaintances you think or try to remember all the good time you have spent with that person…for Uncle K…my brain got a little bit of memory…not much.
A two or thrice meeting in his grand house…his old mother’s ranting about good old time…and him at that time a young man shying away from ladies.
However, why I kept his memory is because…Uncle K has his ways to tell you about something…he will do it practically so that you can understand him without him using words and at the end he will tell you that exactly like this it happened…he is not good with words…hmm...once he was telling me that how a certain person scold him and punch him and without waiting further ado he tried to punch me on face…on my protest he said…but I am only demonstrating its not like I will going to punch you actually…but by that time I knew that Uncle K has his own way of DEMONSTRATION…he will always do it practically.
One day he was driving me to school and there were four other children of same school whom we picked going along the same road…I was in front…suddenly he started talking about how a bad driver his mother is and to demonstrate – “ Whenever a huge big truck or a trolley like that one…(we all saw that one water tanker was on its way towards us…) coming loomed into sight it would take mother infinite time to spot it, ‘ cause she can’t see…are you following what I am saying here…she can’t see.”
He rubbed his eyes furiously to show me, “And I ‘d say, “Whoop look out mama, a truck.” And she’d say “Enn? What’s that you say baita?”, “Truck..! Truck…!” and at the very last moment she would go right up to the truck like this .” and Uncle K hurled the car at the truck roaring our way, wobbled and hovered in front of it a moment, the truck driver’s face growing gray before our eyes, the children in the back seat subsiding in gasps of horror...hmm....swung away at the last moment. “Like that, you see exactly like that, how bad she was.”
I can’t say that I was afraid…but I was kind a speechless…in fact I was thinking what he would do if I ever complain so this little incident got stamped on my brain and seeing him after so long it came back to me…I smiled and asked him do he have the international driving license for which he replied sarcastically that he has none...well what shall I say…lucky Ontarians.
As usual…hmm...when you meet after very long time any of your friend or acquaintances you think or try to remember all the good time you have spent with that person…for Uncle K…my brain got a little bit of memory…not much.
A two or thrice meeting in his grand house…his old mother’s ranting about good old time…and him at that time a young man shying away from ladies.
However, why I kept his memory is because…Uncle K has his ways to tell you about something…he will do it practically so that you can understand him without him using words and at the end he will tell you that exactly like this it happened…he is not good with words…hmm...once he was telling me that how a certain person scold him and punch him and without waiting further ado he tried to punch me on face…on my protest he said…but I am only demonstrating its not like I will going to punch you actually…but by that time I knew that Uncle K has his own way of DEMONSTRATION…he will always do it practically.
One day he was driving me to school and there were four other children of same school whom we picked going along the same road…I was in front…suddenly he started talking about how a bad driver his mother is and to demonstrate – “ Whenever a huge big truck or a trolley like that one…(we all saw that one water tanker was on its way towards us…) coming loomed into sight it would take mother infinite time to spot it, ‘ cause she can’t see…are you following what I am saying here…she can’t see.”
He rubbed his eyes furiously to show me, “And I ‘d say, “Whoop look out mama, a truck.” And she’d say “Enn? What’s that you say baita?”, “Truck..! Truck…!” and at the very last moment she would go right up to the truck like this .” and Uncle K hurled the car at the truck roaring our way, wobbled and hovered in front of it a moment, the truck driver’s face growing gray before our eyes, the children in the back seat subsiding in gasps of horror...hmm....swung away at the last moment. “Like that, you see exactly like that, how bad she was.”
I can’t say that I was afraid…but I was kind a speechless…in fact I was thinking what he would do if I ever complain so this little incident got stamped on my brain and seeing him after so long it came back to me…I smiled and asked him do he have the international driving license for which he replied sarcastically that he has none...well what shall I say…lucky Ontarians.
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