Diabolic Innocence

Too incredible to be credible…right???

Believe me... It exists and I was the victim of it. Not once but two times. I was a victim to diabolic innocence, where the innocence of two sweet little girls made my life miserable. This did not deter me from deviating from the one and only truth I learnt in life. My one and only discovery that, “Innocence is the only emotion left unpolluted”.

I prefer not to take names in the first case. Because if this blog gets discovered by the participants of that even they again might find ways to make minced meat out of me. On the long shot this event looks so adorable though it has steaks of stupidity entwined in pigheaded approach towards exploiting innocence.

Ok… enough of metaphors.

I used to have this pal who is an automobile industry professional. I often used to go meet him at his office and in one such an occasion I was introduced to his superior. He is a guy after our heart though his official capacity is higher than my own friend. We became friends and become close enough meet and call often. Our company always used to end up with a sense of mutual respect and affection.

One such day this superior invited both of us for lunch on weekend. We reached his home around eleven O’ clock and were so pleased to be introduced to his beautiful wife and pretty kids. The girl was about four years of age and the boy was three. Being a lover of children I took to them in no time and made best friends out of them. Soon we were (I mean little girl, little boy and me were so busy that we preferred to ignore the existence of elders around and try discovering things from discarded shoes to mucking dirt with wooden twigs.

When their parents were concerned about implementing hurdles towards their investigative abilities in the name of hygiene I vehemently shielded them from this atrocious adult misinterpretation. I told them that right now we were not mucking dirt but trying to uncover and civilization that’s buried beneath the layers of time and soil. The parents of the children gaped at me for a while as the children themselves sensed a symptom of victory which they rejoiced. Then both of them jumped in my lap and we shared so many things from picture book stories to sweet kisses.

It was a pleasurable day and we had a sumptuous lunch that’s prepared by my friend’s superior wife and retired in to post noon laze. While the parents and my own friend were busy watching television the same room, I resumed my philosophical debate with children. After a while I reached the ascension of my wicked self.

I looked the little boy and asked him to pay back my kisses. He dutifully gave me kisses on my cheeks and I was disappointed. I expected some resistance but he seem to be too innocent and there was no hesitation on his part to make me happy.

Now I tried the same trick on his elder sister who is just one year elder. She looked at me with her big eyes and baffled expression. Had I asked her just to give me a kiss she might have given. But I made it look like some kind of unfinished transaction.

I asked her… Gimme back all those kisses I gave you in the morning. She looked at me suspiciously and perhaps could not distinguish weather I was asking for her favorite doll. This one is shrewd and surely she must have inherited the genetic traits of her dad who is a General Manager in a reputed automobile firm.

She asked what kisses.

I told her the same kisses I gave you in the morning.

She said she did not receive any kisses from me.

I told her she is cheating and she must return my kisses.

(By the time everyone in the room became curious about our conversation and the parents were in a way happy to see their daughter effectively deflecting my tirade).

She said but she returned my kisses immediately.

I told her she is busy in mucking dirt and hence did not given my kisses back.

She said she gave all my kisses back.

Then I asked her little brother who was rocking on my back like a little monkey if he has seen her giving me back my kisses.

He said no.

Then I looked again at the girl and said… “See… you did not give my kisses back. And you must not keep what belongs not to you, with you”

This frontal attack by me and her little brother made that girl hesitate in her resolve. (Her parents were giggling by this time).

She said in a meek tone…” But I don’t have any kisses”

I said…”Does that matter??? You go get kisses from somewhere or anywhere, but give me my kisses back… Right now and right here”

She was truly bewildered at this predicament. She looked at parents for support but there was none except for tight smiles.

And she took a deep breath and suddenly smiled. I was a fool and underestimated her.

She looked at me brightly and said… “I give lots of kisses to my mom every day. You could go ask her for a few kisses and get my account settled”

There was a pin drop silence in the room and I could here my heart thumping inside my torso trying to run towards railway station long before my body carried by my wobbling legs for my physical safety.

My pal opened his mouth wide. My pal’s GM’s wife giggled and hidden her face in hands and ran away to next room. My GM friend flared his nostrils like angry Hippo and bared his deadly long teeth. I was looking at him with my mouth wide open like an African alligator that was about to be trampled by this five ton animal whose weight is compounded by irreversible anger.

I could here his teeth grinding till they lost the dentine coat and he screamed at me. You moron… don’t you know what you must speak to a child and then he charged towards me probably to knock of my own teeth.

But I was quick enough to run for safety and my own pal followed suit. We did not turn back till we reached the safe embryo of moving train with both of our tails tucked tight between our hind legs.

A few days afterwards I met this gentleman and I apologized. He laughed off and said that it’s the most educative experience he ever had in understanding his own children. And he is also happy to realize how intelligent his daughter is becoming.

I met these good people a few times afterwards but I dared not kiss that little girl ever again for any reason.

In another such an incidence I was playing with two little girls of my uncle aged six and four. Their dad was at his office and mom went out for shopping leaving her children’s safety in my able hands. We played for a while running around the home and after a while we suddenly hit upon an idea to fight in mocking way.

I gyrated by butt and limbs in all possible obnoxious poses that other wise I interpreted as Kungfu moves and tried scaring those two girls. They were not sacred at all. They throw punches and kicks with their own little hands and legs. It went for a while and suddenly I hit upon an idea… as usual with my wickedness.

When these two little girls hit on my tummy in mock punch, I staggered and…clutched my tummy in great pain, contorted my face and screamed in blood cuddling way and fallen on floor.

The girls giggled and tried pull me back to my feet but I stiffened my body and let not their strength move me an inch. They were still giggling when they realized that I was acting dead.

I pushed my tongue out of my mouth in a crooked angel to emphasize that I was dead by their punch. They tried tickling my ribs and making me laugh, and tried scratching the soles of my bare feet and making me wince in pleasure but I decided to stay paralyzed. They tried inserting gross blades in to my nostrils to make me sneeze and somehow I could even manage not sneezing.

They tried every trick they knew for almost half an hour. I was not budging at all.

It was the young girl whose imagination worked first. She looked at her elder sister (who is also a little girl) and asked if Cheenu is really dead. The elder looked uncertain and then suggested the younger one that they should find out if I really was dead.

It was the most endearing scene. Their words were with concern first… asking me to get up and apologizing for punching me in tummy. Then they blamed each other for my assumed death. Then the little on started crying. After a few seconds even the elder started crying. I was struggling hard to keep smile off my face in my death mask. The pitch of their wailing reached the peak in a few minutes and suddenly the door banged open.

My aunt… the momma bear... Not only in spirit but in shape too... was there with groceries and newly bought broom. She came running to her daughters and asked what happened. They sobbed and hugged their mom and told her that they killed me by punching in my tummy.

I could not contain any more. I exploded in to laughter. And was rolling on floor as those two little girls glared at me though their sparkling eyes filled with tears.

My aunt was enraged to the point of no return. She trusted me with the happiness and safety of her little girls and I made them cry. She stepped back and picked that brand new broom she bought and…

I let my words trail off here after… leaving everything to your imagination.

Believe me friends. Sometimes you may find innocence diabolic too… even if you are an evil participant in that