The Fall

When you’re a kid there is a certain charm in doing what you’re not supposed to do. You see parents admonishing their children left and right – don’t touch this, don’t eat that etc. The funny thing however is that most homes have this one place that is out of bounds for the little ones. For us, it was always that little gap between our first floor terrace and the garage roof. A three foot leap from either side, it was a very convenient passage from one end of the house to another. I am almost positive that the wrinkly old architect had knowingly sniggered to himself while sketching the flaw in his blueprints.

Being a child gives you a certain degree of imagination. And because I was a strange kid, I thought of myself as a daring explorer, jumping across the gaping hole of a volcano to escape a tripe of wild monkeys. And so there I was one day, trying to fend off the baboons; and I slipped. My left hand frantically reached out for anything to grab onto and miraculously found a supporting rod. During the agonizing seconds that I managed to remain suspended in mid-air, I saw my life flash before my eyes and my heart had strangely crept up my throat. Then as dramatically as any Bollywood movie scene, my sweaty hand lost grip of the rod and I plunged into the depths of a volcano. A very shallow volcano it was, as something metallic broke my fall, I felt myself losing consciousness.

Meanwhile the sound of the falling had alerted my mother, who ran downstairs in two shakes of a lambs tail while successfully managing to continually scream my name at the top of her voice. I was smacked lightly on the face a couple of times and was brought back to reality. The look on my mother and brothers face portrayed the situation perfectly, they looked deathly pale and rightly so. It’s not everyday someone falls off the first story of your house. I was sure I had broken something, a rib maybe? A leg perhaps? But no, I was a completely fine and effortlessly walked back inside the house with my family. Turns out I fell onto a pedestal fan our guard had so smartly tucked away behind the pillars of the facade of the house. That had partially absorbed some of the impact energy and the rest will always be shrouded in mystery. But as my mother began hurling a barrage of spontaneous questions at me and my brother laughed at my luck in the background, the flame of my imagination was rekindled. This was when I contently thought to myself, ‘I am indestructible.'