Yesterday Kavs and I were sitting on the steps of my house like we do so often, and it occurred to me that of all the times we hang out at her house or mine, that's more often than not where we end up. I'm sure it suits the parents fine, since it means we're out of their faces but close enough to haul inside when dinner’s ready.
Most of the time, we're at my house. There's something about those five (six?) brownstones that makes it a great place to chill, have aimless conversations, contemplate the meaninglessness of life, or grab a guitar and sing in loud off-key voices. (well.. umm.. the loud off-key may just be me, but whatever).
Now that I think of it, some of the best memories I have of my friends coming over are attached to those steps. I was looking through 14th birthday pics with Ju, Leann, Rhea and me sitting there, can't believe how different we look now. Impromptu counseling sessions with me-and-Ranjit, glad those are over. Where Bijoy and I sat when we had our first three hour long conversation. Christmas '06, when Reuben was down and Dino's Awesomes made their post-midnight-mass debut. A couple of weeks ago it was me-Megs-Ruch-and-Chirag meeting up after three months and creating a ruckus at twelve.
Apparently it's not just us. Kavs and I were looking through her family album, and there's her mom Carole with bell-bottom-pants-wearing Uncle Al, sitting on the steps when they were dating, Desiree and Kenjo as kids, and ancient photos with my Gramma and the Rodrigues Sisters just before one of the weddings (ancient cause they're wearing hats and gloves, wish those days were back).
Of course, when Kavita and I are NOT testing our spitting potential, 'the steps' is where we park ourselves. It's cathartic when you're in a belligerent mood - the combination of trees, darkness and the wall allows any one sitting there to make bitchy comments about unsuspecting passers-by without being seen or heard. Apart from the promenade, it's where I end up when I want peace and quiet, time to think and be left alone. Found the perfect way to relax - head resting on top step, back arched to accommodate second, butt on third and feet on fifth, iPod in hand, and you're set.
Whatever happens to my house (I shudder at the thought and I know so will Kavita), those steps must stay. They've got eighty years of history sitting on them.
Most of the time, we're at my house. There's something about those five (six?) brownstones that makes it a great place to chill, have aimless conversations, contemplate the meaninglessness of life, or grab a guitar and sing in loud off-key voices. (well.. umm.. the loud off-key may just be me, but whatever).
Now that I think of it, some of the best memories I have of my friends coming over are attached to those steps. I was looking through 14th birthday pics with Ju, Leann, Rhea and me sitting there, can't believe how different we look now. Impromptu counseling sessions with me-and-Ranjit, glad those are over. Where Bijoy and I sat when we had our first three hour long conversation. Christmas '06, when Reuben was down and Dino's Awesomes made their post-midnight-mass debut. A couple of weeks ago it was me-Megs-Ruch-and-Chirag meeting up after three months and creating a ruckus at twelve.
Apparently it's not just us. Kavs and I were looking through her family album, and there's her mom Carole with bell-bottom-pants-wearing Uncle Al, sitting on the steps when they were dating, Desiree and Kenjo as kids, and ancient photos with my Gramma and the Rodrigues Sisters just before one of the weddings (ancient cause they're wearing hats and gloves, wish those days were back).
Of course, when Kavita and I are NOT testing our spitting potential, 'the steps' is where we park ourselves. It's cathartic when you're in a belligerent mood - the combination of trees, darkness and the wall allows any one sitting there to make bitchy comments about unsuspecting passers-by without being seen or heard. Apart from the promenade, it's where I end up when I want peace and quiet, time to think and be left alone. Found the perfect way to relax - head resting on top step, back arched to accommodate second, butt on third and feet on fifth, iPod in hand, and you're set.
Whatever happens to my house (I shudder at the thought and I know so will Kavita), those steps must stay. They've got eighty years of history sitting on them.
After midnight mass, Christmas 2006 - Reuben,
Kavs, me, Mum, Grampa, Ajay, Dad
Ashita, where art thou - three of the four "sexies"!
Steps, Christmas Day 2006.
5 comments:
There's nothing more to say really.. Those steps are just so multifaceted!!
Oh, and can you imagine what those poor people think when they hear tuneless singing emanating from a seemingly silent, unoccupied set of stairs!?!?!?
They think, "Why the hell did the Awesomes let the tambourine player sing!?"
who's the tambourine player?
Kavs.
Post a Comment