Curveball. Imagined? Maybe….

via Imaginary

Sometimes life throws you googlies….. Ohh wait, you don’t know what a googly is? Well, how about a curveball?

You know what?

Insert whatever sports metaphor that you are comfortable with.

So as I was saying, sometimes life throws you curveballs that you simply aren’t prepared for. One moment, you’re sitting in your room reading or doing whatever it is you do in your room and the very next, the hand of fate sends your way a fast, swinging one that dips and waves and you just can’t duck fast enough.

Now, whoever made that quote about curveballs and whatnot; I think he knew what he was talking about.

Take, for instance, this afternoon.

I live in Vadodara, a town, where the temperature during the summers is closer to 50 than it is to 40. Celsius, mind you, not Fahrenheit. And in such sweltering heat, the onset of monsoon is something that obviously everyone welcomes.

In fact, it’s one of those things common to almost everyone. That first hit; of mud being soaked with moisture. Everybody looks forward to it, no matter how much people curse the rain-Gods, once it’s in midseason form. All of us, as humans collectively look forward to it.

Or at least I do.

And today, at about 6:30 in the evening, a faint but instantly recognizable smell made its presence known. It started out very subtly and I thought I had imagined it. Maybe I didn’t immediately acknowledge it because I almost didn’t want to believe it like a weary traveller doesn’t want to believe that an oasis is real because he’s encountered one too many mirages. You think I exaggerate? Well, at times I do tend to do that. It’s the heat I tell you. It’s addled my brain.

But the smell slowly grew stronger, until I could no longer deny its existence.

So I breathed in the musty odor; reveled in it; went out of my room and into my balcony so as to welcome the first showers that heralded the arrival of monsoon, only to encounter what can only be best described as a veritable dust storm.

Ok, that might be a mild exaggeration on my part.

But let me inform you that these were no gentle winds, good sir. No, they were not!

What they were, were dusty winds; carrying what seemed like half the sand in the Thar Desert. And they seemed to have a mind, all their own, as they buffeted my face, doing quite a marvelous job of it I must say; all of this while discombobulating many an unsuspecting youngster trying to escape the searing heat.

Dusty Winds – 1

Befuddled Youngster – 0

Well played!

So I made my way back to my room, rubbing the dust out of my eyes, after yet another trying experience on my soul.

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3 thoughts on “Curveball. Imagined? Maybe….

  1. Pingback: Author Interview – Charley Daveler – Stories of the Wyrd (Sci-Fi/Fantasy) | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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