The coronation !

The bells ring clear. Infact, the clang of the cymbals in the hands of the doll, bring about a watering in the mouth that would have made the man Pavlov beam with enough pride that could give the proudest of film stars some hair pulling!

A quick sprint to the balcony shows a genial man with the bamboo pole and a gait that is familiar. The old familiar gait. He looks much older now. 30 odd years have passed. Perhaps more. And they show. With cymbals clanging and the horn tooting.

Thirty plus years could have flown by. But Its time for some toffee now !

Memories of the genial gent, bending to wrap a tender wrist with the pink & white toffee that hitherto resided on the bamboo pole, come rushing back. He use to tie in the shape of a wrist watch ! Over the next half an hour, the kid would walk five and a quarter inches above ground ! Some thing that best of Swiss watches wouldnt give him later in life !

The years show on him too. The bulges and balding are pronounced. The glint of the sun from his Rolex makes him squint. Many watches have sat on the wrist. Many have gone too.

Today, as the cymbals clang, he rushes to the road with the mouth still in hyper ‘water’ mode !

Off comes the expensive watch.

Much to the amusement of the genial old man, here is a balding bulging chap, in crisp jeans and T-Shirt that would cost as much as the old man’s entire years supply, perhaps two.

Holding out his hand and asking for a new wrist watch ! A pink and white wrist watch made of cheap candy that hitherto resided on the bamboo pole.

The cymbals continue to clang with a ferocity that would have announced a king’s coronation.

He wasnt complaining. This infact was a coronation of sorts. He was crowned the kid he was. Armed with the pink and white watch on his wrist, chasing the white cloud and blue sky.

It looked like time had stood still.

Cotton Candy memories !

There is an unmistakable energy in the air.  You wonder where it emanates from.  You look hard. And discover that he operates his contraption with a practiced hand. Throwing in that odd spoon of sugar and ratcheting up some noise with a small piece of cane.  

You try to stare into his face. And see whats behind that monochromatic stare into his pink produce.  You cant decipher much. 

You stand there, and simply stare into that contraption.  There are furious swirls that are on. And in some time, you see a gathering sponge of pink cotton.  

There is some thing unique here. You think. As your heart begins to beat faster and the saliva props in your mouth from nowhere.  Enough to make Pavlov beam in his grave. Ditto for his dog. 

The gathering swirls seem to pluck more of the pink cotton from nowhere. The swirls seem to have rung a magic in colour.  You watch the  small piece of cane disappear behind a cloud of pink cotton candy. 

The pink in the air makes you think. Of pinks slips. The lay offs. The worsening economy. You wonder where it will lead the world to.  Strips of bad habits that the world picked up gathered up as a huge ball of pink.  

By now, the saliva in your mouth makes its presence felt. The thoughts of the economy or the recession disappear like share prices on wall street.  Its now ready. Your pink cloud of sugar candy. He thrusts it in your face.  Not even looking at you. And moves on to the next customer. 

Your heart continues to beat fast.  You tell yourself. 

The price of cotton candy : Rs. 20. The calories which you would add : a 100 !  The worry on hygiene and such other factors :  Rs.400/- for consultation and an equal sum on medicine. 

The look of amusement on the faces of children, as you lick away the last strand of cotton candy and nudges from the missus, urging you to behave….. is large scale capital erosion ! 

But the memories that come rushing back to you from an earlier time. When you ran about in grey knickers, and treated 25 paise as a heavenly sum, and thought of cricket and cotton candy as proof that God existed…. Priceless !  

That unmistakable energy permeates. You no longer wonder where it comes from !