Temple is a place where we believe miracles can be requested;Temple is a place where we believe some supernatural entity lives;Curiously, the part of the head,beyond the eyes,in front of the ears is called the Temple.
I am not sure whether there is a single noun that represents that. If it is there, I wish I knew it because a single word that tells the same thing as two words is brilliant (words can be attributed adjectives too right?) and I would have preferred at least what I type to sound brilliant if not anything else.
There are a lot of unfortunate truths. Like
Somebody we love passing away
A close friend hurting us
A small pup getting killed under a vehicle’s tyre
Feeling that we could have done something that would have prevented something.
A lot of things like that. I am not, so unlike me, feeling like listing things, which I always like to do.
But I felt the most unfortunate truth is something different. Even though I am going to type it now, deep down I don’t accept it even though every single logical neuron of my mind tells me that statistically and pragmatically, what I am going to say is the truth. But I don’t accede to it. This, ironically, is exactly what its addressing. The looping, comprehensive logic of it is really irritating me.
The most unfortunate truth is that we have to accept unfortunate truths, not affront it.
Yup. JM Barrie’s world. If you have not read Peter pan or if, by an extraordinarily tough misfortune, have not seen any of the movies based on the theme or character, you might not be familiar with its mysticism. So go and watch “Finding Neverland” in which Johnny Depp plays the lead role as the author. A really good film though it has supposedly taken some liberties with the actual facts. Who cares. This story about how the author actually came upon his Neverland is, in my opinion, more intriguing than the land itself. Neverland has come to stand for childishness and immortality or something like that. More like immortal childishness. Being a child through eternity.
Siiiiiiiiiiggggggggghhhhhhhhhh.That must be fun. (in a tone full of jealousy and the sadness that accompanies the feeling of losing something that is bound to be lost yet something we blindly thought is still a long time away, so blind in fact that once we lose it we feel like we have not given the proper care it deserved)
I somehow have always related the word “Neverland” to a place most of us are familiar with. I don’t know why I considered it so but I have always done it even though I am acquainted with the actual Neverland and its actual metaphorical function. But this place has a very distinct, very complex, tough-to-be-described, equally obnoxious and fascinating ambience that it’s difficult to actually decipher my feelings towards it. Possibly one of the places that can “never” be described.
Yep. The Hostel. The realm of paradoxes.
Paradoxes. Yes. It’s funny the way it works. It is so paradoxical that it actually teaches. For instance consider a person who doesn’t like to be in groups or gangs. Someone who is uncomfortable hanging around with people. Neverland forces such a person into a group. Paradoxical. Right? Because even though the person might try to avoid a group he will be in a group anyway. The real paradox is the fact that in all probability that person might end up liking being in a group. Or for instance, someone may come in as a shy boy/girl who cannot look into the eyes of a girl/boy and talk but by the time he/she leaves he/she might be a person who talks only to a girl/boy.
If one place could give you all the incidents that will make you reflect upon anything as silly as life to something as profound as comics and also the time to do that reflection it’s the Neverland.
It makes one feel alone. It makes one enjoy loneliness. (Unfortunately one has to!)
It makes one miss (things and people). It makes one feel contended that there are things and people that matter more than anything else. (The fundamental human defence to combat cognitive dissonance)
It makes one sad. It makes one resistant to the temptation of drawing sympathy. (ha ha. Gotcha! Only moms fall for it)
It makes one happy. It makes one realise that happiness is quite instantaneous. (It comes and goes like a flash!)
It forces one to be independent. It makes one understand it’s essential to be. (At least it is loads cooler to be independent!)
It gets one tensed. It makes one realise that getting tensed would only get you teased (Assurances, one realises are actually pampering that misleads one from reality. It’s better to let our paranoia rule us. It’s usually right)
It makes one loyal. It teaches one to use discretion with loyalty. (Unfortunately it’s true that loyalty without discretion is the biggest injustice one can do onto oneself)
It makes one feel intimidated. It makes one realize that intimidating people are the ones who are intimidated. ( ;) Its weaklings that boast of strength)
It makes one long. It makes one understand that the best things take time (like getting a degree! Among other things ;) ;))
It makes one realize that manipulation is a way of life. It makes one accept that getting manipulated is dumb.
So on and so forth. But you know what the best part of it all is?
It makes one acquainted with a wide assortment of characters. But it converts some of them into one’s best mates for life.
Neverland: Classes, bunking classes, tempting others to bunk classes with us, getting tempted to bunk classes with others, sleep, afternoon nap, evening catnap, classroom snooze, midnight tea, slightly later than midnight noodles, walking, talking, walking to talk secret stuff, eating mess food, bitching about mess food, missing mess food to eat muffin at Nescafe, tea, bada tea, amul cool, missing home, feeling pissed, getting teased, teasing others, assignments, copying assignments, getting offended when somebody doesn’t give his/her assignment, feeling selfish about giving ours, exams, syllabus mails, exam papers that defy the syllabus, Xerox, combined studies, combined exams, grades, soaking clothes in soap water, washing clothes after a couple of days, cycle trips, eat outs, treats, more treats, placements, preparation for placements, comparisons, disappointments, satisfactions, couples, splits, again couples, peer pressure ;), messy rooms, rats, cockroaches, insects, roommates, loo mates, wing mates, parties, festivals, college symposiums, guest lectures, sleeping through lectures, competitions, common room, market, ice creams, class presentations, presenting without preparing, debates, arguments, night outs, movies, laptop, DC++, chats, Dhobi, ATM, Tatkal, holidays, meets during hols, train journey, weekends, affection, fun, joy and Friends!
At the end of it, I realize, every single memory of it involves these people in some way or other. Possibly, it is because of these relationships that this Neverland becomes palatable and survivable even making the worst of scenarios funny and acceptable. Everything depressing is ridiculed to insignificance by the sheer potency of camaraderie. It is as this group one learns this major point. In fact one gets so used to it that it becomes a way of life. Nothing seems a problem. Nothing seems worth worrying. The Neverland imparts an experiential education that rivals that of the sages and philosophers!
Of course the Neverland corrupts the gullible. They imbibe too much without selectivity probably. Quite expectedly, the Neverland scares the species called parents. Doesn’t mean the resistant ones don’t have any takeaways. These take away tastes. Not habits. Not biases. Not prejudices. Just tastes. In my opinion, that is the most brilliant part of the Neverland. Imagine so many people with so many varied interests. The Neverland is a veritable treasure for picking up tastes.
Of all the things one goes through here, right and wrong, good and bad, fun and misery, at the end of it all when it is a test of the strength of the memories, the pleasant ones win hands down and eyes closed. I can’t believe I am going to say it but I think I will miss this stupid, obnoxious, silly, paradoxical, ironical, depressing middle of nowhere!
Neverland, the land that makes one irreversibly grow.
I got sick and I was on my way back to my hostel room from the diagnostic centre with a positive for infection. As it is, the illustrious diagnostic centre, supposedly one of the best here in this place which is illustrious by its own accord for a variety of reasons, made me wait for almost an hour because the results have to come from “somewhere”. So me in my mightily pissed form waved for a cycle rickshaw guy and was in no mood to converse, that too with my mono or max bi syllabic Hindi. But as things usually are, the guy I happened to wave down happened to be in a chatty mood. The moment I got in he started. Both pedalling and talking.
Guy: you Kerala?
Me: no. (In no mood to talk)
Guy: Andhra?
Me: no. (Still in no mood to talk)
Guy: TN?
Me: yeah (slightly amused...)
(Apparently he had figured out that I am from south India. Well. Almost everybody makes that out. But he wanted to specifically place me in my state)
Guy: (pointing at himself) AP
(Apparently he had figured out that my Hindi is beyond his levels)
Me: hmmm... (Almost forgot that I was pissed)
Guy: Bahut garam..(He said wiping off his sweat)
Me: aan
(I realised this was going to be a monologue from him. And as it is, from years of experience and a little intuition, I guessed a catch is soon going to pop out from him)
Guy: 3 Kids. 2 lady. 1 Gents.
Guy: small kid. Jaundice.
Guy: No sleep 3 days. Worry. No money.
Guy: 3 kids. School. Food. Dress. Shoes. ( he reached down and showed me where shoes are worn.)
(he also turned and looked at me and gave a resigned look and waved his hand)
(some more of lines like this interspersed with questions like the following)
Guy: Which year? Which course? Going home after exams?Where?
(anyway it goes on for some time but with the periodic mention of jaundice)
(the end is approaching)
Guy: No smoke. No drinks. (pointing at himself)
( a few seconds later I get down. And I give him an 50Rs extra. )
Guy: Thank you sir (delightedly and it was somehow combined with gratitude that I am not able to place)
And as I was walking back I couldn’t help but think about it. I knew there was a high probability that he might be lying. I suppose all of us have faced such encounters.But what does one do? The first time he mentioned jaundice I knew he wants me to give him some money. And the whole time I was pretending to myself as though I am deliberating, because I knew I am going to give him something anyway.
Have happened many times.
Once I am arriving at the Delhi railway station after a gruelling and boring 2 day journey from Madras and as I am walking out a small school girl, probably 9th or 10th standard max, came running to me and pinned our national flag on my shirt. What does one do? Would one say no at the kid’s face?
So many examples like this. Security guards. Most of them I have encountered in my life are really really nice people. But it is a given that it is incumbent on our part to give some money.
What does one do?
Is the conversational affiliation shown only for monetary ends?
The question I am not able to answer is “So what if it is so?”
Besides they come across as really nice people.
Some of them even have the lucidness to frankly ask for money. Isn’t that in a way appreciatable?
May be some of them lie. May be some of them cheat.
The question I am not able to answer is “How do I know?”
What if that money we give ACTUALLY helps them in a genuine way? May be they are not drunkards as we assume. What if it is so?
The question I am not able to answer is “Does the paranoia weigh more than the remote possibility of genuineness”
How much do they expect anyway? 10?20? 50? Leaving everything apart, the morality of the action, the logic of pessimism and everything, is the magnitude of quantum involved here something that bothers us?
We get robbed and cheated almost every day.
Everytime we go to cafe coffee day.
Everytime we go to nalli silks.
Everytime we go to saravana bhavan.
Everytime we buy a Cineplex ticket.
Everytime we buy branded stuff.
Almost every time we do whatever we do in our lifestyle.
But we are never bothered by this fact even though we know it. Of course its self indulgence and we feel that we deserve it. And 10s and 20s and 50s are not even worthy of our consideration is it?
The irony is that we don’t think twice about paying more to people who would probably go and indulge themselves in ways even we don’t. But we think more than twice and end up deciding not to give to people who would probably go and eat a full set meals with that money. Or maybe they will booze.
So what?
Is our point of trouble the fact that these people go and drink locally brewed alcohol while those we paid at malls drink vodka? ( I want to write about boozing. I have so much to argue in that ;) Unfortunately might hurt people)
You know what I do? I indulge them. Primarily because I am not able to answer any of the questions.
Since anyway cheating is a way of life, either we cheat others or others cheat us or we cheat ourselves.
And in this case the best thing is that their momentary gratitude is really gratifying (Though technically it’s my dad who should be receiving it. Lets say it doesn’t matter within family)
Sometimes I wonder whether I am just this common someone who can’t say no. But I am quite capable of saying no. Have said it so many times. Anyway I am stuck in the case of issues where I can’t decide with certainty. Like Asimov’s robot that is given two conflicting orders of equal intensity. In such cases it’s pragmatic to employ the option of least discomfort.
So I indulge them.
Better than buying a silk saree for 10k from Nalli, coming out and bargaining with the guy selling safety pins.
In case you found that male chauvinistic,
Better than buying Lee jeans for 3k, coming out and bargaining with the lady selling handkerchiefs.
Of course I am not really angry at them. Just miffed by the truth of that statement. And to an extent by the tone of the person which wants to convey the image that they in fact actually enjoy the non-permanence of stuff and it’s the lesser mortals who can’t let go offthe need for attachment. And if the person is not that a hypocrite, he/she is probably a nice person trying to be sympathetic . The only snag being it’s not sympathising. I just hope everyone accepts it someday. There is nothing called consolation. At least we all suck at it. In my opinion the best way to console somebody is just being there for that person and keeping our mouths shut. People don’t realise it but it is highly unfair when somebody tries to underplay the impact or importance of the “lost” thing in an attempt to console. I would prefer to be told “Yes. It was a big thing to you. It must be very hard indeed to face this disappointment. I hope you will take it in your stride” or something like that instead of “It was not that great anyway. It doesn’t matter. There are other things you can get.” Anyway, personally I am always tongue tied in situations like that and I am usually never tongue tied, whatever about me gets tied, it’s never my tongue. But what does one say anyway? I always think that being there is more important anyway. (I know..Self justification. Pardon me)
So anyway I started thinking about it. What is permanent?
Is Saturday permanent? No. It’s just one day of the week.
Is Calvin permanent? No. Bill Watterson stopped Calvin in 1995.
Is health permanent? No. We never know what a test is going to tell us. Heck. We don’t even know when we would be forced to take a test.
Are jobs permanent? No. Its recession isn’t it?
Is contentment permanent? HA HA.
Is happiness permanent? No. Since I “Ha HA”ed to the question whether contentment is permanent.
Are friends permanent? Er. ..er..
Is Obama permanent? Isn’t he the one who talked about the coming of change?
Are our degrees permanent? Hopefully.
Are pups permanent? No. They grow too fast.
Is our childhood permanent? No. We grow faster than pups.
Are our memories permanent? Selectively.
Are our prejudices permanent? Hopefully not. But unfortunately yes.
Are our sins permanent? I think this is too heavy for my blog..You know..My blog is not THAT serious. ;)
Are laptops permanent? I think they have something called batteries.
Are our goals permanent? I don’t think we even know what goals are in the first place.
Are lives permanent? No. We die.
Are corrupt politicians permanent? No. Some of them die.
Is affection permanent? I suppose so. Somebody or the other is expressing it to somebody or the other
Is our affection permanent? Yes. Though for some people the person receiving it might change from time to time.
Are our beliefs permanent? I don’t know. And I don’t know which answer is ideally right, yes or no.
Are nations permanent? No. No comments.
Are continents permanent? No. They silly keep moving and hitting “on” each other.
Is our lifestyle permanent? No. I used to wear diapers and now I don’t.
Ok.. I think I need to stop..I sometimes keep writing because it’s fun talking like this. ;) Anyway my point in this is that almost, almost nothing is permanent. And we don’t feel bad about them all. But some things we wish it to be permanent. Or at least after sometime we think it would have been nice if something had been permanent. But inherently we like permanence in some way. But we like change in some way too. Aspirations, ambitions, wishes everything underlie a desire for change. Some change. Some form. And many a times its probably denied to us, What we wish; What we want; What we desire; What we dream about; What we keep thinking about;
On the other side, “loss” is sadness. Disappointment, loss, disillusionment everything underlie a desire for permanence. And sadly and ironically enough this is probably denied to us too. What we don’t want to change; What we want to hold onto; What we think defines us; What we think is our purpose; What we want to always belong to; What we want to belong to us always;
Yes. Probably nothing is permanent. And we like it sometimes. And we hate it sometimes. But there is a common thread to both these sides of us. A common reaction. A common defence. A common reason to go on. A common need to continue. A common voice that eggs us on. Sometimes this common thread, as much as we need it, makes us feel stupid to ourselves, makes us look stupid to others, makes us question it, makes us doubt its purpose, and makes us want to stop it. But it holds on.
And for the blessed soul (or should the adjective be wretched?) it’s invincible.
I love these plants. We have it all around our home. Attractive with their brilliantly colored leaves. I like them very much because in my memory that was one of my first scientific words that I knew when I was a kid.It is that awesome feeling of euphoria when I understand something in science. I don’t know why that is. And that levitating feeling of self accomplishment, though an illuding thought, if possible, was even more pronounced when I was younger. Now am relatively experienced (am 2.2 decades old...sigh) which has enabled me to identify it to be a misleading illusion, a fact that fortunately doesn’t bother me. So what I am saying is that I am a sucker for scientific stuff, stuff like jargons, stuff which I don’t understand, stuff that has more than 2 words that are separated by a hyphen, stuff that are nonexistent but those which would be cool if they do exist, stuff with which I can fool people if explained believably, stuff that helps me win arguments and debates, stuff that are imaginarily wild and fascinating, (I love milk. I always think it would be nice to create genetically engineered cows that would directly give flavoured milk. The cows could even be colour coded. Ok...ok...) stuff that are the livelihood of science fiction writers and other stuff similar or related to all the stuff mentioned above.
And I am more attracted by biology of course.I am a biotechnologist by education. My grandpa is a botanist. My dad is a medical practitioner. A couple of aunts and an uncle are doctors too. Two of my cousins are fully fledged biotechnologists with PhDs and Post Docs. One cousin is a fresh doctor now and another cousin has started his first year in the medical college.Biology is many a times the subject of the dinner table conversations, sofa set conversations, on the floor conversations, travel time conversations, literally any conversation.
So pardon me for finding the following and also making it a point to say it here. The genus we are actually referring to when we say “crotons” is Codiaeum which is a genus under the family Euphorbiaceae. There is another genus called “croton” under the same family actually. The family is a quite famous one. I think the famous poinsettias and jatrophas belong to it. Codiaeum variegatum is the species which we commonly have in our homes.
Have you even wondered how beautiful leaves are? No. Not in a croton. Just plain old green leaves. It makes me almost angry at the fact that very rarely do people look at the leaves. Most of us are too busy going “ooooh” over the flowers to actually appreciate the brilliance and beauty of leaves.
The most appealing thing about leaves to me is their pure functionality. Sustenance. No Frills. No flashes. Simple. Purposeful.
No. I am not demeaning flowers. I am just appalled by the fact that leaves are not getting the acknowledgement it deserves. Leaves are not included in the verses of poems and songs. Leaves are not used as adjectives to the lady love in duets. There are no boards in the gardens that say “Do not pluck leaves”. Nobody picks up a fallen leaf.
No. I think that fact as such doesn’t appal me. What offends me is the fact that it is the very same fundamental reasons which make us do this horrible and apathetic evil in all aspects propagating this inconsiderate bias and blindness leaving victims everywhere and in everything. Not just leaves.
Consider the following.These are some of the common facts, thoughts and opinions that exist among us.
Hardworking people are boring and not adventurous.
Simple people are unattractive.
Loyal people are very predictable and therefore unromantic.
Studious people are mugpots and don’t have an ounce of intelligence.
Emotional people are a burden.
Caring people, a nuisance.
Relatively un-westernised people are morons.
Traditional people are gutless.
Religious people are superstitious.
Non drinkers are people who don’t have fun.
Non party goers are loners. (Possibly creepy too)
People who talk with their parents everyday are childish and un – independent.
Patient people are losers.
People who hope are idiots.
Content people are un-ambitious.
Careful people fear risk.
Cautious people are paranoid.
People without an elaborate hairdo have hair that is unkempt.
And consider the following for a contrast
Intimidating people are confident people.
Bullies are attractive and strong.
Rash drivers are sexy.
Smokers and drinkers are people who are living their life.
Detached people are mature.
Cold people are cool.
People who keep “moving on”, one too many times, are resilient.
People who use others are intelligent.
People who affect smiles and conversations to “build” contacts are career oriented and ambitious.
Whimsical people are independent.
People who are not loyal are victims of misunderstanding.
Liars are humorous.
Flirts are merely extroverts.
People who go abroad are the really capable ones.
People who have unkempt hair have a cool hairdo.
Of course there are so many stereotypes that I cannot possibly write them all here. We all know these. Pity ain’t it?
Goodness doesn't flash. It glows.
Unfortunately, its only flashes that are seen.
I love crotons. They are pragmatic enough to have realised that they would never be appreciated for they are merely leaves and hence, morphed, retaining their true essence, but enough to fool the blind and biased world.
Hoodibaba I love driving. Many of us do. In my opinion it is a perfect synergy between man and machine. In a bike, the foot changes the gear, the hand turns and accelerates and operates the clutch and the other foot handles the brake and the eyes are scanning for any moron that (sorry...any moron on the road is not worth the same semantic/grammar norms that are applicable for a living thing)might dash from somewhere, the ear keen for any screeching or blazing sound nearby and all the while the mind in its own shell, dreaming, thinking, humming and not in the least bothered with what the hands, feet, eyes or ears are doing.
Bliss.
I have driven my bike so much that I really feel so comfortable when I get on it. In fact the feeling is somewhat near to what I feel when I return home from the hostel or something like that. The other brilliant thing about driving is that I get that time for myself. Not that I can’t stand people. But it is the time I have for myself without me intentionally ignoring anybody. That is awesome isn’t it?
I like driving so much that I keep drawing parallels between driving and literally anything. I am just typing the following pointers with the same style of old adages and sayings that use the word “you” which gives the impression that it is being told to us(the readers) who are younger and naive and inexperienced by the un-inexperienced, un-naive and un-young wise people( the writers or speakers). I personally feel offended by that style. So I am using it here.
If you think you are a bad driver, then you are. So don’t drive.
If someone you know is a bad driver then tell them they are a bad driver. Show your love by driving them, not fooling them.
When you see a pit on your way, slow down. Because if you swerve, YOU are in somebody’s way.
Don’t be in a mad rush to overtake. There is always going to be someone in front of you.
When you are going to turn and change your direction, make clear your intentions.
If somebody is coming with you, consider them.
When the signal is red, don’t intimidate the one who is in front of you to break the law because you want to break the law.
You are allowed to hurt yourself. But don’t hurt somebody else in that.
You are not born good at it. So make a conscious effort.
There will always be someone who is slower than you.
There will always be someone who is faster than you.
Going slow is as seducing as going fast. Choose your own speed.
Enjoy it. You are going to arrive at the end, whatever the traffic.
Wear a helmet. Controlled paranoia is good.
Don’t assume someone is good at it and go with them. You might lose your life.
On the road, assume everybody other than you have no idea what is driving.
If you are in a car, don’t get angry at a biker. As much as they deserve to die, they would, actually biologically die if you do.
If you are in a bike, don’t get angry at a car guy. As much as they deserve to die, YOU would, unfortunately biologically die, if you do.
Don’t imitate. Your own style is the only style that will keep you alive. Single or not.
Don’t keep changing lanes. It might be fun to you but it is irritating and confusing for others.
Accepted you have got a horn. Don’t blow it too often.
OK. That was for fun. And I thought I will have to stop because right now I am being my crapping best and I would go on(especially because I am typing and nobody is there to tell me to shut up) if I don’t consciously stop it.
And it was not about driving. Remember I told you about parallels. Draw them. :)
My bike. Bajaj Caliber 115. I love my bike. I think I have driven some 30000 kilometres on it. And my bike is green. As in the colour of the paint and it is just so lovely. You know, technically I just said something that would make me a hypocrite. Because my favourite colour is black. And if I had got a new bike when I did get that bike I would have got myself a black one. But at that time it looked pragmatic to get a used one and colour, obviously is not a factor in this case. So green it was. It’s almost 4 years now. I was very particular about this model. One thing, I learnt driving in a Bajaj Kawasaki. So I wanted to get one in the same league. And it may not have been a factor, but I loved the ads for my bike. All of them involved a son and his dad. Marketing people should consider it. It’s almost irritating nowadays to see a bike ad where the guy is trying to impress a girl or the girl is automatically impressed with the guy because of the bike. I know all of us are interested in this arena. But come on they are actually insulting us. We have other interests too. Don’t we? (If you said no then way to go buddy!) Well anyway I found the ads more powerful, more attractive and better conceived. (Of course! I own the bike. I am obviously biased. What do you expect? Huh?).
It was a bike when my dad bought it for me. Now it’s MY bike. It is that prejudice that develops over time. I know it gives a lot of problems. I know it has a pathetic mileage. And it’s green! But I just like it. In fact when somebody tells me that they are not able to drive my bike I feel pretty smug about it. Proud of it in fact. I know. Ooops. That revealed my possessive side. Anyway my point is its brilliant that humans (I. We) have this ability to be subjective. I mean. I think about it myself and I wonder about it. It’s an old, second hand, green bike that is performing way below what it should be. But I don’t feel like selling it. In fact it’s not that passive indifference. I actually want to keep it. It fits me.
I think I read this story in one of the chicken soup books. It is about this small boy who goes to the pet shop everyday to look at all the pups. The kid had no money so he would just go there to look. He was collecting money to get his pup. The shop keeper knew him well because he went there every day. Then the day came and the kid got all his savings and came to the shop. But the kid did not have enough money. He was short by some amount. The shop keeper realised this but did not have the heart to tell him that and so decided to see what the kid chooses. If he chooses a lesser breed then he would have the kid have the pup for the money he has. Then he took the kid to the kennel where all the pups where kept. And all the pups came running towards toward excited about seeing somebody. All of them wagging their tails and looking at them. Then one came limping in the last. The pup had some problem with one of his legs (Somehow I didn’t feel like saying “it”. That is for the morons on the road). He couldn’t run. But he was as much excited as the other pups where. He was wagging his tail too. But he was slow. The kid immediately selected him. The shop keeper was a little taken aback. He said to the kid that he would never be able to run and play with the pup because of the pup’s inability. Then he also said that the kid can have the pup for free because nobody else would buy him anyway. The kid insisted on paying. He lifted his pants and showed the steel artificial leg. And he said “I don’t want him to run with me. I want him to walk with me. And he is as much worth as any other pup there. I would pay the remaining amount when I have collected enough”. That was my own rendition of the story. But you get the point right? In this case my bike fits my style perfectly.
Why would I want to get something new when I already have what I need? That is possessing something. When we know that we have it. When we, without realising, use the possessive adjective “my”.
But it takes time. Yes.
“Owning” or “having” is different from “possessing”.
