|| The Feisty Copperhead ||


May 2015

A Hug :)


No one values a hug today,

But, to me it’s a precious gift,

From down in the dumps, to a snappy mood,

Anything, a hug can lift.

Many-a-types of hugs you have,

But forever my favorite remains,

A warm tight, bear like squeeze,

While laughing like we’ve got no brains!

I love the cuddly, sweet smelling kind,

Full of love and care,

The ones I can feel even when alone Continue reading “A Hug :)”

Partying Like A Naval Brat

Ever had your parents throw a party? One with loud music, booze, salty wafers and peanuts galore?

Most ‘defense brats’ will know exactly what I’m describing. Most of our parties involved a ‘pot-luck’ where biryani was generally the ideal dinner plan, and by the end of the evening, most of our dads were smashed beyond compare, while our mothers would act like the best of friends, and then go home and say “I really don’t like that woman.”

We always had that one uncle who told the same stories again and again, and that one really loud aunty, who had that annoying kid no one really liked. These parties generally involved all the kids being locked up in a room, to stay out of everyone’s way, with a constant flow of chips and coke coming in, courtesy the family’s maid, until the time one of the older kids had the brilliant idea of playing ‘dark room’ which was followed by a secret mission of transferring all the tiny tots into a different room, keeping them occupied with a cartoon, generally Naruto or Pokémon.  Once the kiddies location was secured, we’d start the horrible game of darkroom, which involved all the kids cramming themselves into spots too tiny to fit then, and silently waiting for the ‘denner’ to come get them ‘out’, all with the lights off. I was the kid who always hid in one of the cupboards, behind the hostess auntie’s towels and bedspreads.

Getting caught was considered a curse, and the poor victim could only pray for that one smart kid, who’d manage to hit the grim reaper equivalent hard in the back and say, ‘Dhappa’. This hero was then guaranteed some solid appreciation for the rest of the evening, as because of him, the ‘denner’ would have to repeat the below process.

A quick what to do when after you’re the chosen one after what seems like a dozen rounds of ‘inky-pinky-ponkies’:

  • Stand with your face towards the wall, and count to a number chosen by the other players beforehand. This number was always either 10 or 100. Never anything between them. (I’d always wish for the 10, but my sadistic friends always went “No no, count to 100.”)
  • Yell “ready or not, here I come!!!!!!!” Continue reading “Partying Like A Naval Brat”

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