MOFE

Posted: August 3, 2016 in London, My Silly thoughts, TransOceanic
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Mofe

Carrying my weekly grocery bags like donkey I walked, while sweat tickled me here and there. At times I miss my nonexistent husband, if he would have been there he would have carried the bags while I swung my hands and legs copying Silento’s move one or two. Darn!!! What I was thinking when I said no the last guy I cursed my fate and collapsed carefully, not to break the eggs, on the empty bench.

Usual closet-sleeping hot pants, tank tops, tube tops enjoying the company of wind and merry people, long legs and bare backs were sun bathing. I looked at the kid who was standing in front of me drinking his slushy drink. His bag left carelessly on bench beside his cycle (Koi-Mil-Gaya). I eyed lustfully at his cycle for I was always crazy about it. There are still so many things which mock me silently reminding me my age. “But One day” I said silently “I am going to shut you all”. The drink long drained the kid was busy eating pie now. Without any grown up around he looked all settled and homely.

Donkey looked at the bags and shook the head to rest for some more time. Its then a ball from somewhere slowly rolled towards me. Naturally I picked it and looked up in search of the owner. There was the same kid, with the pie long reached its destination looking at me with hopeful eyes. I smiled and threw the ball at him. “How long it has been since I played?” I asked myself. (“Only three months, remember, back in Mangalore how you used to torture those poor kids with football” my inner voice was ready with an answer). I half expected the kid to throw the ball back at me and he did it with a broad smile on his face. I smiled; I was on my way of making a new friend.

We played for quite some time, diving and throwing in all possible ways. The never sleeping sports man in me was wide awake kicking his butt.

“Are you tired?” The kid asked me. Britt’s I tell you they all are considerate of all age group without exception.

“No, I am good” I said throwing the ball at him.

“Are you on your own?” I asked him, the never sleeping Miss questioner was just surfacing.

“Na, My mum went to buy grocery, I am waiting for her “ he said dropping the ball.

“So you go to school on your bike yeah?” I couldn’t take my eyes off from his cycle

“Yeah” he said picking the ball

I smiled imagining myself riding the cycle in full speed in slope, my hair flying with wind and my mouth open screaming,”yeahhhhh”.

“What is your name” I asked him, after all its decent to know the kids name who didn’t make you feel tired or lost

“Mofe” he said

“Wow” I said half expecting him to ask my name. When his silence followed my smiled deepened. That’s the precious thing about kids, they just don’t care. Your designation, job, nationality, name, age, they really don’t give two Fu*** about it.

After playing for 15 to 20 minutes I bid my farewell, the donkey all set to carry the bag and walk the undefined miles .

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