A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)

The Number Forty-Seven

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I guess it’s a pretty special number for those who love guns, for who hasn’t heard of the (in)famous AK47 guns that got a popular film star into trouble with the law, and that too in a case associated with terrorism. The AK47 is synonymous almost with lawlessness too isn’t it? But it fair adds a punch in your life, without owning one too 😀

A little over eight years ago, we got our steadfast steed, a humble Maruti 800, which still serves in the same steadfast manner. The middle two digits of the registration number is – no guesses – 47 😀 And the letters of the registration read … *drumroll*… AK 😀 😀 😀 Can you even imagine the extent of my glee?? So, as is predictable, this steed has been christened the AK47, ever since, and believe you me, it has amazing speeds off the start, even though other cars do get past, in a bit! (more on it, here –LINK)

It was only yesterday that it dawned on me, the number 47, when it should have ages ago. It has to do with the things happening, the surge of implosion, sometimes explosion, the atmosphere of absolute emotion in extreme- it had to do with the number 47, along with two fascinating adjectives that go with it! It zapped me suddenly, those adjectives, in tandem with the 47, making this yet another amazing AK47. So who / what am I referring to, you think? That 47, who I refer to, will now get the idea, if they are here and reading 😀

I refer to my class, the inimitable Awesome Kinesthetic 47 (or Amazingly Kool 47 ). If you have read this (LINK) and this (LINK)you’ll understand the way I feel, a combination of such love, trepidation and anxiety, along with a tendency to grin and frown side by side, laugh crazily with them, tell tales and give them a sudden hug, on demand. Does that behaviour seem familiar? Especially if you’re a mother to lively kids. So, the AK47 analogy suddenly hit me, last night, as I was making them cards and putting CDs into them, of pictures that I had taken of them, over the past two years when I was their class teacher. It was to be a surprise gift- the card and the CD, on their last day, in school before their boards 🙂 Nostalgia wafted in the air, a sense of suppressed excitement too – no exam tension just smiles and free spirited conversations! They conducted themselves beautifully during the small prayer and blessings function we had, after which we headed back to the class, to dispense hall tickets. It was then I carried my bag of stuff in. Murmurs arose… but I paid no heed 😀 Gave instructions, small pep talk, and finally told them I had this for them. The collective gasp that went out was reward enough. No thank yous were needed after that 🙂 So each one received their little card and CD, with strict instructions not to put anything on FB till the end of the exams 😀 Much laughter greeted that instruction.

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The Cards they received 🙂

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My goody bag 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

And then a voice piped up from the back of the class, teacher we’ve also got something for you- 47 love letters 🙂 There appeared a red satin sack, much like Santa Claus’ , which was ceremoniously handed over to me 😀 Was I overwhelmed? Well. I have been receiving receiving so much much from them, through the two years that what I feel at this point is inadequately expressed in the utter and absolute love I felt then. Feel now. Each child had written in his/her own unique manner, and one went like this- “I don’t know to express myself – so I shall let this quote say it…. ” Very clever, but articulate too!

I read them, letter by letter, when I got home, and I cannot name only a few, though there were these slices of emotion, love, laughter and energy so beautifully beautifully arrayed and displayed. Awesome does not cover it. No word does. Just the ehsaas, the feel, a warm cosy comforter, tucked around you, with delightful little delights popping up now and then, making you squeal, with delight 😀 😀 This is me now. 🙂

So, to the 47, the wondrous 47, I had to write this for the world to know, you ARE special, and no matter what anybody tells you, know this, you are the nicest AK47 I’ve ever known 🙂 Apart from my steed of course. May you always have this specialness about you, with the crazy energy levels, suitably directed, and ably used. Stay blessed 🙂

25 February, 2015

For Day#20 of #RamblingsInFebruary, a happy soul posting this crazily 😀 😀

february ramblings

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Author: Usha Pisharody

A rambler, pretends to be a teacher, loves to dream, and go on Quixotic Quests in the Realm of Romance With Life...

9 thoughts on “The Number Forty-Seven

  1. Ugh. I’m so unbelievably jealous right now, that words cannot express my feelings. But the AK47 does bring back a lot of memories. That anticipation and waiting to check whether you’re at school or not 😉 And it brings a smile on to my face to see that you got so many presents in one day 😀
    Wish I could’ve attended our last class. Gah I missed a lot of fun.

    Liked by 1 person

    • If you’re jealous, or anyone is, my job is done 😀 And yes, you should have come to class that last day !
      The anticipation, I presume, is probably to ensure a free period? 😀 Kidding. 🙂
      Thank you for being jealous too, Sreelakshmi!

      Like

      • Unfortunately I sprained my knee, so it’s bed rest for a few days 😛
        Well, your anecdotes are waaaaay better than simply writing notes, so I guess it isn’t for a free period. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! 🙂

    “Just the ehsaas, the feel, a warm cosy comforter, tucked around you, with delightful little delights popping up now and then, making you squeal, with delight..”

    may that ehsaas envelop you always! Kudos to you and your AK47s!

    Like

  3. I am so happy for you. When you get something so beautiful without asking for it, its the universe telling you, you are doing what needs to be done :).

    Liked by 1 person

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  5. I wondered about that analogy
    Why ’twas so named, your Maruti
    But the rest of the story
    Is so full of glory
    One-in-a-million, our Usha Pisharody!

    Like

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