Clean

I have a picture. It was taken last year in February. I've just come back from the conti the juniors threw us, and its about two am or so. Baba's wearing my sash and crown and looking at me, with his glasses askew. Ma, bleary eyed (the only one who learnt to follow the "early-to-bed-etc-etc-etc" rhyme) is the photographer. Though the combined truth about her sleepy countenance and photography 'skills' have resulted in quite a funny angle of the photograph in question. Behind us is the big wall covering bookshelf, which is, at the very least, diagonal. I'm staring at the lens with a wide smile, baba has just said something that has caused it, and the result is like that of a moment frozen in time, a giddiness in the air, that presses itself sharply as I look at the picture, over a year later. It makes me laugh. Aloud and clear, again and again.