The Story Of A Classic Swiss Pocket Watch

Principal Father Percy Pereira was shouting at a kid non-stop.

“Why are doing homework in the class.” Don’t you have time at home? Call your parents tomorrow. I need to talk to them. If they are too busy to come, you too stay at home. Don’t come to school tomorrow. You are an unnecessary problem in the class.”

Father Pereira droned on and on. No he didn’t use a cane. His verbal assault was equivalent to a cane.

Another father friend, who was in close proximity, heard Father Pereira going mad at the boy.

Father Sam Walters, his friend, confronted him during the recess hours.“How could you yell so much, at such a lil’ thing, gosh dang it.” 

“I know I had overdone it. Sorry, if I had disturbed your class. But, don’t you think kids these days are too much to handle. By the way, I inherited this explosive behavior from my granddad from my father’s side,” saying this Father Pereira held the photo out.

My grandpa, Mr. Collins was known for two things a] explosive nature. B] love for his goddam golden dial Swiss pocket watch. 

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One fine day, the decrepit man had roared in his loudest voice.  “Who the hell, touched my watch?”

Though his shouting was not utterly out of character, the maid of our house, crouched and cowered behind the bedroom wall.

“Oh! Stop it Dad! Stop it! hollered my father condescendingly from the other end of the living room. She had simply stroked the golden dialed antique pocket watch, clean.”

My parents, had often witnessed my granddad’s eccentric behavior, but had simply failed to see how dusting an old watch could make him go so freaking wild.

Mr.Collin had taken a huge offense to it, although. And to punish us, though for no fault of ours, he would stage psychotic attacks and would bring the entire house down. (Couldn’t be otherwise, what with this vain gloriousness.)  

The antique watch was off-limits for the household members, much less the maid. The unwritten contract between Mr. Collins and the family members read: No one, in fact, no one should touch his super sacred watch, much less clean it. Awfully, the maid being new, was unaware of this dictum.

“The fault lies at dad’s end, “my father reiterated.  

But my granddad gave two hoots to what my dad said and yelled at the maximum decimal point possible by him. “Keep that hideous, grim reaper of a maid out-of-my-sight and out-of-my-room. I don’t want to see her anymore.”

Since the death of his wife, Mr.Collins had allowed the maid to take care of all his personal chores. From washing his clothes and ironing them, to cleaning his room, and preparing breakfast, and lunch and dinner for him…anything and everything that made his earthly existence a little easier. In return for her services, the maid was paid a handsome sum. However, he had failed to inform her about the most treasured aspect of his life: the love for his holy watch and the sacrosanctity associated with it. 

The beautiful antique chain watch was his father’s gift to him on his 15^th birthday. So, you see, it was pretty old, and he had precious memories attached to it.

Now with 60^st birthday looming round the corner, he knew it was that time of the year when every mean and the most mannered people in the family would flood the house to wish him. But most of all, he was dying to see his 1-year-old grandson Percy. Both Percy and Mr.Collin shared the same birthday date, August 28th, so they would, in all probability, share the stage together as well.

Now, what would he gift his lovely grandson on his birthday, was the big question, hovering on his mind.

Toys…a mind-blogging number he possessed.

What Next?

Dresses…uncountable numbers.

What Next?

Shoes…infinite

What Next?

Games…his cupboard was almost overflowing with those.

What Next?

Watch…but what kinds? The cartoon ones?

In re, I had been staring at his pocket watch quite often. And, fortunately or unfortunately, my grandpa had caught sight of that.

So, he made up his mind: to gift his precious watch to his loving grandson. “He deserves it more than anyone else in my family and he’d take it care it, like he takes care of his superhero toys,” he bellowed.

So, my grandpa made a big announcement on the day of his birthday about parting away with his watch. The new owner would be his grandson.  There were oohs- ahhs all over the place. Many had set their eyes on the watch. But the watch, from that day belonged to me alone, the little Percy Pereira. (His children who always saw Hitler in their father, failed to understand his unadulterated love for me, his grandson)

I, in my cute ba-ba-ba-ba-ba style took hold of the watch. And within next few seconds, I banged it on the floor. The dial sliced into several pieces. The old man didn’t know how to react. He simply stood there stunned. My father stood aghast, waiting for all hell to break lose.

Then out of the blue grandpa pronounced:

“Huzzah! Percy Huzzah!!! You’ve done the inevitable.

Then he came towards me and took me in his arms lovingly and said.

“Oh My God! Oh My God! What a strong boy you are growing up to be. You broke my watch.”

“Can you imagine? He broke my watch. He actually broke my watch. Can’t believe it though.” He spoke cloyingly to the people present.

Saying this, he took me in full embrace.  

Yours Loving Log

Once upon a time I was blooming tree in your garden;

Bearing fresh flowers and fruits for you alone;

You spoke to me, and took care of me; as if you and I were one;

But as time flew by, new friends and pass times took precedence over me;

And I was left to languish and die;

My roots gave up, my torso grew weak;

And then there came a day, when I could stand no more.

Today, I am reduced to pieces;

But still I can’t stop loving you;

So how about axing me, and chopping me into pieces;

For I can light up your midnight lamp today;

Or simply burn me up in your hearth today;

And brew some delicious broth;

Still thinking; don’t do that;

For who knows the rain gods might just ruin me;

Or even the termites could conquer me;

Before that happens, embrace me and take me in your loving care;

For I want to end this earthly sojourn: simply serving you; simply loving you.

Yours Ever Loving Log

 Oops!!!It's has turned out to be more than 100 words. Anyway, next time.

Write Tribe Saturday Prompt: Use the image above to write your 100 words – a post, a poem – whatever comes to mind.

Immortalizing Maya Angelou

The thought of being a stranger to Maya Angelou and her works, all these years, throttles me. And, I know, if it weren’t for her death, I would’ve still been a stranger.  

Thankfully, Vidya Sury’s insightful post on her, made me realize what I had been missing all these years: about 7 autobiographical books and many more books on poems.

A life well-lived, despite hailing from a broken family, despite being a victim of child abuse, despite being a madam and a prostitute, despite all odds stacked against her, Maya led a meaningful life and wrote meaningful books.  “I know Why the Caged birds sings” being one among them.

Sadly, she is no more. But I wanted a piece of this magnetic women in my blog. A pic, a quote …anything that would help me remind me of her every now and then. Anything, which would help me immortalize her in my memories. And what better to immortalize her than to recount her awe-inspiring quotes. 

So, here goes my favorite ones:

There are so many of them, that it became almost impossible for me to narrow down to my favorite one.  But this one caught my attention and set me on a thinking trail.

 

“To grow up is to stop putting blame on parents”

― Maya Angelou, Becoming Myself: Reflections on Growing Up Female

I’ve been blaming my parents for all the wrongs in life. I know there’s an expiry date to blaming them. But for me it was an easy way out of my misery. But after reading this quote, I felt, how wrong I was in holding them responsible for all the emotional upheavals in my life.  It's high time that i take charge of my life and emotions and let not the small ups and downs of my life disturb the mental balance of my parents, let alone mine. 

John Green, in his book "The Fault in Our Stars says,“You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.” However, i couldn't agree with this amazing author's take on language. For me language resurrects, helps immortalize the people we love, in our memories forever.

  



 
Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt: To elaborate on Maya Angelou's quotes.