How It All Began: The Last Knight Speaketh

Ahem. Been meaning to write this post for a while now, but as always, ten different things popped up, all clamouring for attention, and while I cheerfully ignored most of them till the deadlines loomed large like so many tsunamis, this got pushed onto the back burner as well. Though when I did first think about writing an introduction to this blog, I logged onto it about half an hour after, and found that apparently G had had rather the same idea. Some things apparently never change... (and thank goodness for that!) :D

Anyway, as I was saying, or rather trying to, (yes, I do love playing with words... :P) it all began one fine summer day, about ten years ago... Well, it may have begun on a cold wintery day too, to be honest, but for the sake of simplicity, and to get around faded/absent memories, let's assume it was a fine, sunny, summer's day. You know, one of those days when birds fly around singing joyful songs, when butterflies flutter around in pairs, doing courtship dances in the air, when squirrels chase each other up and down trees, when merry breezes playfully knock your hat off, when the sky is blue, the grass is green and the sun shines beatifically upon all. In short, one of those days which if Frost had come across, would have drawn an exclamation of, "By Jove! All's right with the world, I say!," or something of that sort.

But I digress. It was a fine summer's day, and as per G, we were apparently standing to the rear of a cricket pitch, 'fielding', an activity which we spent rather a lot of time engaged in at the time, under the guise of playing cricket. Being a not overly demanding activity, the ball rarely condescending to enter the part of the field which we were habitating, I assume we gravitated towards each other, with the objective of passing the moments that ticked by in a more entertaining fashion than by counting blades of grass. You see, counting blades of grass, while in other respects a perfectly good way to pass an idle mid-summer's afternoon, can be a bit tricky, because one is liable to lose track of which blade one last counted, each blade resembling its neighbour to a fair extent, as it is wont to do. We quickly recognised each other as kindred souls, and with an "I say!" and a What ho!", the Tale of The Last Knight and G was well under way. As the other denizens of the said cricket field were mostly of the more thick-headed kind, the sort who preferred to use their heads for carrying pebbles and interesting-looking stones in, rather than as repositories for grey cells, we were rather pleased to have found like-minded company, and all that.

Well, it may or may not have begun that way, to be honest, (again!) but I'm sure it was something like that... :P One way or the other, we met, and found that we got along rather well together. So it began.

The cricket fever passed after a while, and basketball was the next activity we found to engage ourselves in. This led us from the cricket field to a basketball ring put up next to a house, where we encountered a stocky little man called, for some odd reason as of yet unknown, Chepu, and a fine gentleman called Richard. ;) Also a few kids, a few girls, one of who turned up one day in this particularly fluffy sweater, instantly earning the sobriquet of 'The Abominable Snowwoman' from me, and a bespectacled but tenacious (at times overly so!) character from a computer game called Dave. Well, Dev, but it was pronounced like Dave. :D

Much fun and frolic followed, and we eventually moved to the big league a.k.a The Dirt Court, where we'd ten or so of us would run after, or away from, depending on a particular person's inclincation, [;)] one basketball, kicking up a whacking great big cloud of dirt in the process, from which we would emerge after a few hours all sweaty, (again, in different degrees of sweatiness, ranging from beads-on-forehead-sweaty to stand-back-I-need-to-wring-out-my-headband-sweaty :D) tired, and only slightly browner than we had been a few hours before.

But of course, the cycle, and A.S.S., was only completed one fine wintry day, (yeah, I'm sure about that one :P) two or three years hence, when G turned up at my gate with a fine young lad in tow and introduced him as Sidler. Initially, he was a bit of an oddity to us, (still is, actually... :D) and we hung out with him mainly because G thought he was a friend of mine, being as he was from my school, and as he and G went to the same math tutor, I in turn thought he was a friend of G's... :P But in time, and not very much time at that, lest you get me wrong, he became firmly ensconced in our little circle, and The Three, known variously as The Trio, The Trikon, The Men Who Stalked The Streets Of C-1, The Men Who Dared To Descend Into The So Deep Pond, and other such proud minikers, came int0 being.

Various adventures followed, particularly in the culinary sphere, many of which shall hopefully find their way onto this blog soon, but each of those is a story in itself.

Watch this space.

PS: Sidlersaar, if you would like to say something in reply to this post, or anything else for that matter, please, feel free to post... It's your blog too, you can do more on it than comment! :P