Today i had to accomplish the task of moving the bed and a big cartoon belonging to my friend to his house. While i was on my way back from office, i spotted a carrier auto parked at Banashankri II'nd stage. I asked for the driver to the man standing near auto. He pointed towards a tea stall. The driver seemed to be of the same age as mine, was a shade darker than me, a bit smaller in height and thinner. I asked him for the fare from kanakpura road to marathahalli overbridge. He informed me it would be Rs 800. Then i told him that the goods were to be picked up from my house at Gubbalala village. Then he asked for Rs 1000. After a little bit of haggling he agreed on Rs 900. I took him to my house. I started moving the bed and cartoon on my own. Seeing that he offered help. Together we moved the bed which had once taken four of my friends to move. Pretty soon we started our journey. He took me through J P Nagar. Earlier i used to think that i'm pretty much aware of that area.

Few people keep their emotions under hard shell and they never open up to any person, even not to those considered to be their closest friends. Everyone can be a part of their joys but to be a part or their sorrows, a really tough nut to crack. They might have opened up once to the special one but after that special person was gone from their life, they were closed for ever. Sharing is what defines friendship, so not sharing their all emotions in a way make them very unfriendly in nature. But this also can't be detected very easily. They would try their best to escape from any situation in which they might have to reveal their innermost feelings. They might be very good listeners and would be the unfailing mental and emotional support to their friends but their bonding is ionic is nature. They only listen to their feelings but will never disclose themselves. 

Whenever i remember my childhood, it appears to be very happy childhood. I used to visit my village very frequently which was hardly 20 kms from my house at Patna. We used to get an auto till station or Mithapur, from there we used to board a rickety bus, or calling it a bus would be huge exaggeration, tata 407 to be specific. It used to drop us at Punpun, a bazaar for our village and from there we had to walk 4 to 5 kms on foot. Remembering of Punpun, there was a grocery shop of Rashid Mian, where my father used to leave me when he would be shopping for the home and cattle. I was very patient child from start itself, i never complained for those hours of wait. Rashid Mian's shop had very peculiar smell of beedies, dried leafs with tobacco inside, that smell I even feel today. Then there used to be non stop songs playing from his sound box. Then there was Shankar, our charwaha, he used to work on our fields. When i was small enough I used to ride on his shoulder for the distance b