Of Nuts and Bolts and many more...
Disclaimer:
I wrote this a long time ago but publishing it now & here to pacify that violent mob outside a certain tech firm in Chennai :p
Excuse Me, Kindly Adjust!
....
Numismatics? Philately? Nah! I’ve tried my hand at all that and then at the wizened age of eight I received my CALL! From then on, my day began under lorries, cars, autos, any vehicle parked on the road. My eyes were glued to the not-so-inviting Madras streets in search of that lovely piece of art, priceless treasure without which my collection would be incomplete….YES! I collected bolts and nuts, much to the chagrin of my mom who stopped short of taking me to the shrink. Hmpf! Parents, I say, the speed breakers to creativity! Amidst squeals of laughter and wisecracks about how all the nuts I was finding were really the ones I lost, my collection grew. Long ones, rustic relics, new shiny bolts, screws with those threads running non-stop around it…I mean, what an ingenious creation and here was I saving them for art’s sake and crucified for the very same reason. Now I know how Rosetti must have felt!
Well I hadn’t bargained for my mom’s waning patience. So, one fateful night, my collection returned to the very place from where I found them, the streets.
I was morose for a week till my eyes fell on the wonderful use of Cocus nucifera, the coconut, for lesser-known mortals. Pay back time. Well-dried coconut fiber was used to make rope and my pass-time was shredding this rope using dad’s 7’o clock Ejtek blade back into soft coir! I have no idea what higher force stopped my dad from tearing his hair out (May be the absence of hair had something to do with it). Coir, coir everywhere, but not a rope to bind. I knew my time was out, when by some unforeseen misfortune, read MOTHER, my “coir” bag got lost while shifting houses.
Time flew, and I grew. After phases of beads, marbles, shoes (this collection bit my dad’s wallet so hard, he hit the roof!), I decided to throw in the towel. Did you hear QUIT? Nope, once a collector, always a collector!
However I had decided to be pragmatic and cash in on my life. Now I collect memories. Memories that might come useful when I publish my autobiography. Book lovers get ready for a priceless collection! Available soon at all bookshops, the first in the series of memoirs, my very own, “A Collector’s Guide to How to hoodwink Super Mom!”
I wrote this a long time ago but publishing it now & here to pacify that violent mob outside a certain tech firm in Chennai :p
Excuse Me, Kindly Adjust!
....
Numismatics? Philately? Nah! I’ve tried my hand at all that and then at the wizened age of eight I received my CALL! From then on, my day began under lorries, cars, autos, any vehicle parked on the road. My eyes were glued to the not-so-inviting Madras streets in search of that lovely piece of art, priceless treasure without which my collection would be incomplete….YES! I collected bolts and nuts, much to the chagrin of my mom who stopped short of taking me to the shrink. Hmpf! Parents, I say, the speed breakers to creativity! Amidst squeals of laughter and wisecracks about how all the nuts I was finding were really the ones I lost, my collection grew. Long ones, rustic relics, new shiny bolts, screws with those threads running non-stop around it…I mean, what an ingenious creation and here was I saving them for art’s sake and crucified for the very same reason. Now I know how Rosetti must have felt!
Well I hadn’t bargained for my mom’s waning patience. So, one fateful night, my collection returned to the very place from where I found them, the streets.
I was morose for a week till my eyes fell on the wonderful use of Cocus nucifera, the coconut, for lesser-known mortals. Pay back time. Well-dried coconut fiber was used to make rope and my pass-time was shredding this rope using dad’s 7’o clock Ejtek blade back into soft coir! I have no idea what higher force stopped my dad from tearing his hair out (May be the absence of hair had something to do with it). Coir, coir everywhere, but not a rope to bind. I knew my time was out, when by some unforeseen misfortune, read MOTHER, my “coir” bag got lost while shifting houses.
Time flew, and I grew. After phases of beads, marbles, shoes (this collection bit my dad’s wallet so hard, he hit the roof!), I decided to throw in the towel. Did you hear QUIT? Nope, once a collector, always a collector!
However I had decided to be pragmatic and cash in on my life. Now I collect memories. Memories that might come useful when I publish my autobiography. Book lovers get ready for a priceless collection! Available soon at all bookshops, the first in the series of memoirs, my very own, “A Collector’s Guide to How to hoodwink Super Mom!”
posted by Kumari at 11:05 PM
4 Comments:
violent mob suddenly starts clapping and repeating adage "old is gold" :)
I will have you know that I thought of the nuts and bolts joke (the one about you collecting the ones you lost) before I read it in your post. So there !
Now, coming back to what you collect, you also seem to be collecting a nice mob/fans as you deem fit to term us, a great collection of people to show around Chennai, including The Park and other such areas of interest and not to mention the collection of such flattering comments such as these !
Quite a collection I say !
@Gang Leader Nandy : Thanks from the Golden Sea(pon-c) :)
@The Flatterer: *blush* Needless to say that i am flattered...So dude, next time you are in town, we shall meet at The Park, barefoot or well-heeled :)
I have never believed that there could be another person in the entire world besides my grandfather who would collect discarded nuts and bolts....!!!
That takes me back around a decade and a half back, when he would pick me up from school and as we walked down the road, he would see something shining in the middle of the road - he would pick it up and once back home, would open a huge chest to deposit them. His collection of nuts, bolts and other metallic items was mind-boggling. He would grease them, remove the coatings and classify them according to their size, utility and condition. His collection was and is a mechanic's dream. There is nothing that can earn better respect from an electrician - than giving him a perfect nut to fit the screws. :)
More about him here in one of my previous posts -
http://stangenlord.blogspot.com/2004/06/somewhere-somehow-somebody.html
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