Myself

Sandbox

The vast expanse of the beach lay before him like the open world that waited for him to challenge himself. But he wouldn’t budge from his squatting position in the middle. He picked up a handful of sand and held it in front of his eyes, the hand over his knees. He gently closed his fist tighter, the nails biting into the sand, and as they escaped his possessive fingers, his palm. He wondered why.

He tried everything he could. He caught the free flowing sand in his other hand and tried the same. The hand was slowly getting dispossessed every time. He took some water and poured all over it. Now he could shape and mold the sand as he wanted. None of the cast he made was impressive. The fun of the free flowing sand was lost on these shape shifting figures. It was not lovable anymore.

He decided to leave the sand to itself. The impatience was not going to pay off. Not trying hard this time, he let it fall from his hand. This is probably the right thing, he thought to himself. The little that stayed back in his hand, was lovable, priceless and secured. His sandbox.

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23 thoughts on “Sandbox

  1. Hey gradwolf.. was blog hopping, when I chanced on urs.. nice write up this and a (in my humble opinion) good attempt at allegory..

    Adi: Thank you! Welcome here!

    Like

  2. By the way, you’re back in India now. Plisss to change the Eastern Time on your blog. It’s stupid. (Just trying to nitpick. :D )

    Adi: Yes, changed. Anything else? :p

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  3. here’s my take, basically its an allergy to your allergy!

    A man was swept of his feet by the beauty of a pious woman. Despite her rejecting his advances he badly wanted to have her. Overcome by lust he tried to use force on her while she was meditating. The purity of her soul self-immolated her and all was left was ashes.

    Such was the enormity of his lust that he wouldn’t part with the ashes. He took what was left of her basically dust/sand and put it in a jewelery box. He would look into the box every morning and feast his eyes on what was left of the damsel. The curse of the wailing lass resulted in great misfortune for his family.

    On the words of a godman his wife handed over the sandbox to one of their servants with orders to leave it some place no one would find. The servant traveled across the sea to a far away land and buried it in the ground. Years later a childless man ploughing the land found a baby under his plough at the very spot where the box was buried.

    PS: The dude was Ravana & the dame was Sita!

    PPS: I ought to make a post outta this allergy stuff!

    Adi: Aiyo! Whatte story! I suggest this should be developed further! But whattay story. Room pottu yosipiya?

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  4. Did he do it at Marina Beach? You know you get ‘5-rupee-Kerala-Biryani’ at that beach*. He could have just had that instead.

    *- I’ll explain what that means offline.

    Adi: Please. I want to know.

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  5. Hey,

    Nice post. Reminded me of a scene from ‘Dil Chahta Hai’

    Anyway, loved the second half of the second paragraph. Might I ask what prompted you to write this? What did Aditi do/not do? ;)

    Adi: Cheeky. Very cheeky! :p

    Like

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