How accident prone could I get...

The earliest memories of my childhood dates back to the 19th of April, 1992. I was 3 yrs, 1 month and 5 days old then. (Alright, I am bluffing. I wouldn’t have even known if this happened if it were not for my mom, let alone the date of the event.) My mom had taken me with her when she was on a staff tour with her fellow teachers. We had been to Hogenakal, a majestic falls on river Kaveri. The rocks could get really slippery there. Yeah. You know what I am getting at. My mom was holding me in her arms, trying to divert me from my hunger cries, pointing at some random stuff that could be seen from the rock she was standing on. And lo! In a *POOF* both of us disappeared from the sight of others. Well, actually if they had looked down, they would’ve found us. My mom slipped off the rock dropping me into the water and her falling on another rock that was next to the one she was standing on. If it were not for the PT master, I probably would’ve been a tribal princess in the dense forests of Zaire. He caught me just in the right time and prevented me from falling off and into the falls. Thus it began. My falling-spree. From then on, I’ve been falling for ever. And I’ve become the most accident-prone of all the Homo Sapiens that I know.

When I was about 4 years old, my mom left me with my then 7 year old brother to play with my dad’s bicycle that was left to rot in our balcony, my brother found intense fun in cycling the pedal of the stationary cycle. And I was utterly amazed with the working of the cycle chain. All of a sudden I had a strong urge to put my hand in between the cycle chain and the gear it was wound onto. *CRRRRRRUNCH*! My right index finger was all sticky. Not with grease. But with my own blood. I can imagine myself bawling sitting there, my brother full of glee and my mom completely panic-stricken and rushing me to the hospital. I don’t want to get into details because what happened that day became a common scene at my home. My finger survived with minor fractures.

Forwarding through, I arrive at the memories of my 1st std. We lived in apartments. My best friend Yogini had come home with her mom and after all the fun, was heading back to her home. She had descended 2 flights of stairs and was in the floor right beneath ours. I wanted to tell her my millionth ‘Bye’ and leaned over the wall. The next thing I knew was that I was at Yogi’s feet and she was leaning over me with eyes widened in concern and asking me ‘Aishu! Are you ok?’ I had fallen off the wall to land right at her feet. Well, at least I got to tell her another ‘Bye’. Thus I ended up with a plaster stuck to my forehead for the next couple of months. The only thing I was happy about was that there were cute patterns of Donald Duck on that plaster.
*SWIRL SWIRL SWRIL*… Am in 5th std. It was the PT period. Me and my classmate decided to entertain a strange thought that cropped up in my head. We decided we would climb up one side of the goal post in our football ground, swing through the whole length of it, and then come down descending through the other side. This time however, Yogi dint want to see me hurt. She stood standing right below me, to catch me any moment I lose grip and fall down. I DID lose grip. Yogi immediately caught hold of my legs. If only she hadn’t done that. I would’ve landed on my legs safely. But now, she held onto my legs tightly and I landed face-down. *THUD* I fractured my left hand. Very soon, I met with another accident and had my left hand sewed with 3 stitches.

Every time I went to watch a football game in my school, no matter what, the ball found my head. When I cross the road, a car appears from nowhere, stops inches from me, the driver puts his head out and says *BEEP BEEP* (censored). I try to cut vegetables. And I cut my epidermis. I sweep the house, I sprain my ankle. I clamber down the stairs, try skipping a step and end up skipping a dozen and landing on my knees. I learnt riding a bike. I ended up performing an awesome ‘wheeling’ stunt involuntarily and landing on my back with the bike lying on my tummy. Trust me, that did hurt.

In short, if u happen to be wondering about the dangers of something as simple as throwing a stick into the air, I can tell you, if u were me, it would land right on your head, oriented in Y-axis, bore a hole in the center of your head and make you bleed.