“So I have been blessed with this teacher and guide, who decided to be born through me. My son Sanil, almost 9 now, has always been full of inquiries, observations, deductions and theories… Ever since I can remember and ever since he started communicating, we’ve had these long chats about world, people, emotions, life, whatnot.”
The speakers were blaring in the park below. Which could be quite a pain in the *whatever*, unless you are interested in participating as balcony audience. We didn’t mind much as we had gotten used to being involuntarily dragged into a carnival-this or a carnival-that by virtue of being residents of tower right across the common park of the high-rise we live in. We weren’t doing anything particularly interesting anyway.
As it always happens in such events, Tambola (Bingo for Americans, yes, there are a few Americans who read my blog, or so I like to think) was the one of the most sought-after attractions of the evening, fighting closely with kurtis and jewellery stalls for the position. That unfortunately we could not take part in from the balcony. Not that I would have jumped at the opportunity to play Tambola, had I been in the park. It has been a well researched and documented fact (by me) that I cannot win at Tambola (or most of the games of chance), even if I am the only person playing it.
There has only been one exception, duly noted, Teen-Patti (Americans, please Google) – that I have played about 4-5 times in my life and have won in ridiculous ways!
On the topic of Tambola, Sanil asked me, “Mom, what is about winning? We all know that these games give out crappy prizes, why are people so excited to play and win?”
Since the logic-defying fever of Cricket World Cup was still on, he went a step further,”Even World Cup! Who can drink anything in that cup? It’s just an odd-looking cup. What’s the point? Even if it is made of gold. Nobody is going to use that gold!”
While I was still gathering my thoughts, he figured out, “You know what, it’s all about the feeling of pride. Feeling good about yourself!” looking caressingly at the medal he won in Soccer and dangled unabashedly over TV so no one can afford to miss it (much to my cringing and futile attempts at reasoning).
“Yes, it’s all about ‘feeling’. And come to think of it, all feelings are but some chemicals running amok in our marvellously designed body-mind system!” finally came an “aha” to me as well! See, when we aren’t doing anything particularly interesting, we often come up with great philosophical discussions.
“So, in theory, if we can produce those chemicals in us, we don’t need actual winning!” I was unstoppable now.
“Why in theory? I do it practically all the time! It’s simple to feel good, mom, look here, I close my eyes and squeeze myself in a tight hug like this whenever I need to… and I feel like a winner all the time!”
Thus spoke the guy who can’t wear his socks properly and sent the heap of my books on self-love in a section titled “Useless” in a second.
I am going to check for participating options for balcony audience the next time a carnival is there. Or I will suggest it. For I know how to feel like a winner too now!
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