The hippopotamus in me.

We go a long way back. Hippopotamuses and me.

My parents were nurturing doubts about my mental growth when at age 4 the only story I wanted to hear was the one my dad had made up. This was also the time I wanted to be a boy. The story was called The Baby Hippopotamus.

There was once a baby hippopotamus, he was very naughty. He did not want to take a bath, but his mother would not listen to him. She washed him, and cleaned him. She made him wear nice clothes and she put powder behind his ears. And she put cream on his face. She combed his hair. She made him wear nice shoes. She told him to play carefully and not get dirty.*impish smile on little girl's face, yeah right*

The hippopotamus went to play out. He saw a puddle.*sparkle in little girl's eyes* The puddle was very dirty. The hippopotamus jumped into the puddle.*SPLASH* *HURRAY*

His mother would see him, scold him and clean him again.He would go and jump into the puddle again. This would go on and on and on, till I would go to sleep, a contented smile on my face. I got over the wanting-to-be-a-boy syndrome, but I still jump into puddles.

So when I read this story, it’s understandable that I feel warm in my tummy.

" ..poor baby fell in the dal ..and she didn't even cry!"

I find myself really attached to the stories of my escapades when I was young. I am possessive about them, and also in a weird way proud of them. One of my favourite is when I fell into a bowl of dal when I was sitting on the dining table, I did not cry.* grin grin* How this surprisingly premature warning about the clumsiness to follow is dear to me is beyond me.

He remembered

Half an hour left for the bell to ring and they are all exhausted from playing kho kho. They all sit down on the bench near the basketball ground and try to decide which game to play today? Name-Place-Animal-Thing someone says.

The tallest guy in the blue shirt scores a basket and all the little girls sigh .Six pairs of twelve year old eyes turn left as he winks at the head girl standing further away.The word game is quickly forgotten as a fight breaks out between the staunch supporters of the head girl and those of the sports captain (who is standing on the other side .)

The game gets over and the blue team wins.The guy walks to the head girl and says something to her friends... they all giggle. He then whispers something in her ear and they both start walking towards the bus stop leaving her friends staring enviously at the retreating couple.

Sweet victory for the supporters of the head girl. Chaos issues in the little group as everyone tries to get their bags and bottles from the heap... but he promised she thinks .......

He stops and says something to her ..she is bemused but nods her head. He runs back and picks up the little girl and plants her firmly on his shoulders and takes a round around the playground .She giggles and laughs and almost cries.She looks at her friends who are almost jumping with joy and thinks that she'll never forget this day. … he remembered……

(This is republished, as a remembered that nobody really understood it when I had posted it before.I hope the changes help)