That crazy spark

Sometimes I get this urge to do crazy things. It's not that I'm a crazy guy myself, or at least I don't think so. But there are times when you just get in this whacky mood to do something out of the ordinary. These things are not pre-meditated. Like any work of creativity (however much you agree with this parallel), it all depends on a spark! Before you know it, it has become a forest fire. Or at least a bush fire, which lights up the surroundings for a brief space. Also, like any fire, it has different effects on different people. To one it seems bizarre, to another, it's dangerous, to a third - like those who love to watch a 'good' fight on the streets - it's pure fun, and so on.

Well, the other day I was awoken from a deep slumber at 8.30 am by my folks who advised me to start my day sometime soon. I was too sleepy to resist, so I came downstairs and balanced myself against the wall, my eyes half-closed. When I saw there was no hope of getting back to bed, I decided to start brushing my teeth. This usually takes half-an-hour on a normal peaceful day. Different people have different ways of starting the day. Many like to meditate quietly. This is my way of meditating. Most people who see me think I'm asleep and the toothbrush has taken a life of its own and, knowing its master well enough, is moving in rhythm with his few thoughts. Little do they know, the master is actually meditating. His mind is running through the previous day, looking into the day ahead, and generally just flitting lazily, like its master's disposition, from one subject to another, in no apparent logical order.

I was halfway through my ritual, when my sister's sweet voice requested me to drop her off at school. Now, no one likes to break off one's meditative spells just like that. And I certainly wasn't prepared for it. I'm a patient man, but there are things like meditation and leaving off midway a ritual like I had that cannot be compromised, especially for a man of my 'principles'. It was at such a moment - when caught between these 'principles' and patience that the spark hit. It was simple yet ingenious - I would drop her off at school, yet without leaving my ritual halfway. I would take it with me!

My poor sweet sister was not prepared for a sight such as what met her eyes. What she saw was the main character of a scene she had just witnessed, but in another scene. I was on my bike, strapped up in my jacket because of the cold, with my toothbrush in my mouth like a pipe. She stared. But she was too sweet and too late to raise any protests. So she hopped on my bike.

Until we reached school, everything was fine. Probably at the speed at which I was travelling, on my super bike - the TVS 50 [super] (which is the family bike it seems, because, like us, it is humble and slow in the ways of the world) , people couldn't make out it was a toothbrush. It was on my way back, without my sister (luckily for her), that I had to stop at a junction. For some reason, the cop, on seeing me, started muttering to himself. I figured it might be the toothbrush. Or it might be the fact that I wasn't wearing a helmet, as the new rule on the roads was. But maybe he didn't do anything to pull me up since the following thoughts passed quickly (and admirably so) through his official head: probably it was that carrying a toothbrush in one's mouth while on a bike wasn't an offence (at least not a punishable one, like riding with the mobile phone in hand), and further, such an act also made it difficult to wear a helmet. While he was puzzling all this out, he continued to stare severely in my direction. I stared back indulgently, and, maintaining eye contact throughout (psychologists will always say this is advisable, though a traffic cop might not), I winked at him as I passed.