Bouncing Bouncer.

I am no different than a guinea-pig running the vicious circle nomadically. The running around has become such a staple habit that one starts running around for the things that are ought to be good fun…Run for the movies so that you get the best seat…run for shopping so that you can put your hands on best of the stock…run for the picnic so that you can have the joy of outrunning others.... Why are we running and where? I would have never come to question myself like this, had it not been for my little nephew. He hardly comes up to my knee roll...proving the fact that you don’t need big things for inordinate realizations. I had just ‘rushed’ back from office to home. I then had to ‘rush’ to buy some vegetables as if it’s the last stock available on earth. After the buy I had to ‘rush’ back home as if Will Smith was to come visit my Kapurbawdi, rented residence for a dinner…or as if I had to come home invent a wheel. All this ‘rush’ was nipped in the bud when my father asked