Flushed Away @ Palmeira Square

Alright, before we start with this particular post, we need to recap what happened in the last edition of Blogging in the Sand.

”Cokadooodle doooooooo !!! “ I suddenly jump up and look around. At first I’m taken aback by my surroundings. Then slowly it dawns upon me. We’re in our new castle. I manage to take a peek at my fiancé, Tasi, the sand pixie, who is quite comfortably snuggled under her duvet. I slowly get out of bed, and walk to the kitchen to make myself a glass of kopi !

This was where we diverted away from the topic, and dedicated an entire post to the “greatness” of Mr. Beelzebub RedCap. Coming back to the topic, as I had mentioned previously, we had shifted into a new castle. To briefly mention the sandcastle would be a mockery on its very existence. Hence I dedicate this edition of blogging in the sand to describe our new castle at Palmeira Square and its various mysterious happenings. However, before you can form any sort of opinion about our castle, I would like to stress the point that the castle is strategically situated in the heart of Brighton & Hove and it is just a 5 minute walk to the beach as well as to the basic supermarts like Tekso, Arsda(pronounced as ARSEDA), Stainscurry etc. Above all, there is a single common factor which united all of us in moving out – it worked out to be a lot cheaper on our already torn wallets and purses.

The outside architecture of the sandcastle was quite similar to some of the oldest Victorian houses, which is quite common in UK. However, internally, it was split into 4 level, with us magical creatures occupying the whole of the 2^nd level and the other levels occupied by mundane humans. The problem that we however faced, was that we were 5, while the castle had 4 rooms. Hence, in order to find the unsuspecting volunteer, we interviewed gazillions of probably roomies, including the smelly ADIDA the banshee and short Quiza the streeler. But we met dead ends everywhere….especially since it involved a lot of money.

One fine wintery evening, when the sun decided it had enough for the day, Ahsin summoned us (Me and Tasi) to their over-crowded flat. It so happened that we had found a taker for the position of the 6^th roommate. It was Basul, the Erkling. After a brief interview session, where it was hammered by questions from all of us, we decided to accept it. So as mentioned, we all quit the university castles and moved into our beautiful castle near the sea. The first few days passed quite uneventfully, unless you consider the fact that we dint have electricity nor did we have heating for a couple of weeks. Once all that was arranged for, we started settling in. The five of us, excluding Basul, decided that we would take turns at cooking. However, Basul felt left out and started sticking to us, with statements of hunger and pretending that he dint know to cook. However, we maintained our ground and informed him that the deal was just to stay in the flat and cook his own food. There started the declining of our so-called “friendly” relation with Basul. Every action henceforth was scrutinized thoroughly.

Now, our dear friend Basul, in spite of already having done a masters in M.C.R (Magical Creature Resources.. the equivalent of H.R for you humans), had a slight pronunciation issue. Would Be was popularly known as Woulddd Be, and so and so forth with the rest of the words ending in a single D. One interesting incident that did take place quite recently was the “Flush” issue. I was experiencing difficulty in flushing the toilet. When the button was pressed, the water along with the remnants floated up, swirled around and would refuse to go through that weird “S” shaped tube ( I’m trying to explain it as “un-disgustingly” as posbbile). Finally throwing buckets of water into the toilet temporarily solved the problem. On vacating the loo, I enquired of Tasi, Ahsin, Gounder Brownie and Count Soltaar regarding this matter. Apparently all of them had experienced the similar sort of agony while trying to flush the toilet. The decision to call the plumber was taken. On trying to fix the problem, the plumber discovered the wet scraps of newspaper stuck in the “s” shaped bend. This was what caused the problem. On query, it was discovered that Basul was using paper to cleanse its holy self after finishing the toilet duties, that too the “METRO NEWSPAPER”. ( For you non UK residents, METRO is the free newspaper of which as many copies as required can be obtained). Apparently Basul, was conserving both water as well as toilet tissues by using the free newspaper. On being confronted regarding this issue, Basul insisted that this was how it cleansed itself and blamed the fault on the “irregular” S-bend of the toilet. Finally Tasi and Ahsin took matters into their hands and gave good telling-off to Basul.

Thus the “Environment-friendly” Basul, corrected his cleansing habits and the toilet resorted to functioning properly. However, the sight of Tasi or Ahsin created havoc within its tiny brains and he would refuse to speak to either one of them, for quite a formidable period. Another thing, that irritates Basul, is the shutting of doors and walking through the corridor. I presume he expects us to fly past his door and into the loo and back, since it is purely impossible to walk without making a sound in the dark. Mr. Basul also gets agitated by the fact that we do not ask him how his day was nor do we take care of him.

However inspite of all these differences, we the residents of Palmeira Square live happily in accordance to the rules we create.

Cheers Sand Leprechaun

Please feel free to engrave your well mannered comments on the sand book !

 

The Return of Mr. Beelzebub RedCap

”Cokadooodle doooooooo !!! “ I suddenly jump up and look around. At first I’m taken aback by my surroundings. Then slowly it dawns upon me. We’re in our new castle. I manage to take a peek at my fiancé, Tasi, the sand pixie, who is quite comfortably snuggled under her duvet. I slowly get out of bed, and walk to the kitchen to make myself a glass of kopi !

Now in case you are wondering what happened to my sand castle under the Brighton pier, well….all I can say is ….Cirumstances…….!!!! Alright this goes way back to when I was doing my undergraduate fungineering in India. As chance had it, I managed to secure admission in one of the “ToP” Colleges. (I’m sure most of my comrades who read this, probably know me and the kind of college I studied in). In spite of all the fantasy stories that you often hear about my university, I quite comfortably managed to enchant one of few exclusive sand pixies who happened to study there as well. We soon followed the familiar flame path and grew quite fond of each other. As be expected, at this point enters a new character – the abominable profane anti hero. (Actually the word anti hero is quite an understatement, as the “creature” was …well….just anti everything). Now before you start conceptualizing a big hairy behemoth, let me take a moment to put your senses right. This particular creature shall hereby be referred to as the cowhearted Mr. Beelzebub RedCap. Its quite difficult to describe this creature as such, owing to the fact that its such a miniscule creature that cant even be noticed, unless it probably raises its unusually overgrown head and holler at you. Anyway getting back to the story, apparently it was at this time, Mr. Beelzebub “felt” that he should try to make a foray into the “Love actually” world, and started making some tall claims. Interestingly enough one of these extremely tall claims involved the beaut sand pixie, I had so successfully managed to hook.

Now to entertain you avid readers, I shall submit a brief overview of the entire incident which transpired between Mr. Beelzebub RedCap and Ms. Tasi, the Sand Pixie. Incredibly unbelievable as it may seem, I plead with my faithful readers to believe it.

One fine day, Mr. Beelzebub was looking out of the window of the bus he was travelling in , and he happened to notice Ms.Tasi gesturing from the opposite bus. Mr. Beelzebub’s lily-livered heart skipped a couple of beats and he “assumed” that she was looking at him. Little did he know that she was gesturing to another pixie who happened to be sitting in front of him. Assumptions can do remarkable things to creatures with little common-sense. This reminds me of one of my friends, the honorary Sir Jorge , who once said “ To Assume is nothing but to make an SS out of U and ME ! “, which is probably true in the case of Mr. Beelzebub.
This assumption planted grains of obsesssion in his puny mind and it grew to be a DARR sort of fetish (although I must warn you….he is no Sharuck Kan!!). The funniest thing is that Mr. Beelzebub never found the guts to talk to Ms. Tasi directly. The alternate mode of communication that he found was the well renowned Wizzymail 0.5 . (This is the magical version of the revolutionary email). His mails were the most hilarious piece of fiction that I have read in a loooooooooong time. He should have been a lawyer, since he was quick enough to find out the various violations of trusts which she and I had supposedly done to him. Despite hearing a gazillion different versions of NO and I DON’T WISH TO HavE A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU, our anti-hero’s brain was not able to assimilate the fact that Ms.Tasi did not want to have anything to do with him. 3 years of fungineering passed quite eventfully with her saying a big fat NO and him keeping on insisting that she SHOULD love him. Mr. Beelzebub became a bit subdued and stopped following Ms. Tasi around and started occasionally wizzmailing her, which quite regularly found its way into the trash bin without even being opened.

Eventually when Ms. Tasi took the gargantuan decision to go abroad ( to the UK) to pursue her masters (which quite coincidently happened to be the same masters at the same university which I was joining), Mr. Beelzebub tried some sentimental versions of the previous wizzmails, which once again failed to charm or extract any emotion from her. Finally on the 23^rd of December, Ms.Tasi, Gounder Brownie, Fraulien Chummy Elf and Count Soltaar Gnome, along with some urchins boarded flight BA 0036 to London Healthrow ,hopefully bidding a farewell to the irksome Mr. Beelzebub RedCap, hoping to have seen the last of him.

But fate had it planned in a different way. All of us had comfortably settled into our respective sand castles (read my previous editions), for a month or so, when suddenly one dull autumn’y evening, there came a knock on the sand castle that Ms.Tasi and I, shared with 4 other dull creatures, and in walked Mr. Beelzebub RedCap. I tried to appear quite unruffled by this undistinguished visit of his and was hoping against hope that he would leave soon. But it was not to be, and he moved into the same castle which Tasi and I stayed in. The most alarming fact was that he, inspite of being an fungineer in Computing, opted to do a core electronics and communication course, for his masters, which quite happened to be the course that Ms. Tasi and I were doing.

Harmless as he may seem, the very presence of his in the castle, was quite exasperating to both of us and we decided to shift out of the sandcastle that was provided to us by the university.

Phew, what I hoped would be a brief summary, has turned out to be over 3 pages of scroll

Anyway coming back , this was the very constitutional reason as to why we moved to a bigger sand castle (although, the fact that the previous castle was too small for all of us to stay in, still added plenty of fuel to the fire).

Phew….I’m too tired to write the continuation of this blog now, so I shall consummate this particular one now, and shall forge ahead in the blogs to come

(PS : Some of you may have found this blog extremely boring, but there weren’t many ways I could bring all these out)

Please feel free to engrave your well mannered comments on the sand book !

The Reincarnation of Peevy

Brrr….Achoooooooooooooooo……….(psst…I huff and puff and fall down !!)

The winds of change are biting hard through the 13.5tog duvet I had snitched from my incredibly thorny neighbour, Spikey the hedgehog. However, I was late in realising that under the shiny layer of cotton and some sort of synthetic, all that was there was some small frazzled piece of cloth.
Now that I wonder about it, the reason for its raggedness was probably because Spikey was so sharp in all the unwanted places.

Damn, Brighton was meant to be a warm and lively place, but its a completely different ball game now. Little did my poor little leprechaunian brain realise that being close to the sea would make the place so wet and windy. To make matters worse, I’m constantly having to get up in the middle of the night to open my doors to some quaint creatures, who have been led to believe that I have a big heart and that I shall let them warm their furry little bodies beside my fireplace. Its quite a pain to bang the door on somebody’s faces, no matter how abberant they are. As a result, quite often I find myself sitting beside the fireplace with some strange critter, discussing about the most trivial topics over a cup of kopi or sooop !

Interestingly enough, couple of months back, I had the most oddball visitor. I had just snuggled into my sand filled ground bed, trying to finish reading the recent Magitzer Award winning “Chicken soop for the Creatures of the Magical World”(which by the way, was soooooooooo incredibly boring that it put me off to sleep even before I completed a sentence), when there was loud knock at the front door of my sand castle. I waited for a second knock, which came loud enough to wake up even my neighbours. I slowly went upstairs (my castle is a 3 storeyed one, but it extends downwards) and peeped through the doorhole. I could just about make out a small shadowy figure who had its back turned towards the door. I opened the door a tiny inch and enquired politely who it was.

“BANG!!” the door opened and I was thrown onto the floor. I managed to remove my night cap, which had successfully slipped down from my head to my face in shock, and after checking myself for any sort of scratches or bleeding, I peered quizzically at my attacker. He was about a foot tall, with a round moon shaped face, sharp chin and the classical Hercule Poirot moustache, with its ends twitching as he spoke. (For humans who havent yet come across this famous Hercule Poirot Character, please read through any of Madam Agatha Christie’s novels when your time permits).
“Howdy pardner” he says to me, as he extends his hand to help me off the floor. Though bewildered, I hang to his hands and manage to get up and stand on my very own sweet stubs that I shall refer to as legs henceforth. “Do I know you ?” I kindly enquire with a frown on my face.
“Ofcourse my mate, don’t you recognise me ? I’m Peevy !” he said.
I quietly rake my brains to locate the name which has been buried for a long time, deep down in the bowels of my brain. Suddenly it strikes me….aaahh Peevy …..the wild imp who was often thrashed by my dad, for stealing silver leeches from our lake. Inspite of all this trashing, Peevy still used to visit me quite often during the good old days of childhood, and we’d go around the lake to the Human side and enjoy many a joke which we played on the unsuspecting human urchins. However, things got quite out of hand, when one of my many Green Leprechaunian Uncles had a squabble with Peevy’s dad, the piqued Harry Widget Imp. Hence, the Widget family relocated to another forest quite a few hundred miles away and nobody heard anything about them ever since.

As I stood in trance, reliving those good old days, Peevy kindly inquired ” Are you planning to invite me in, or are we celebrating our rendezvous out here ? ” I grinned and led him inside to my living room, but not before I latched the door and made sure that it wasnt damaged in anyway. After settling down by the fireplace with both of us sipping on some home made kopi, we got reaccquainted. It appears from Peevy’s version, that things weren’t all that good after they moved out of our forest. Peevy’s parents soon disintegrated into the ground(in human terms, that means they ceased to live or better yet, died !), leaving all their possessions to him. With his newly acquired wealth, Peevy succeeded in funding scientific tests which led to the nurturing of a new brand of fruits — OGRANIC food(not organic, Ogranic), which apparently has been very popular amongst the ever growing human population. However, he has been very careful in not exposing himself to any of the humans, apart from his partner, Mr. Joly Stainscurry. Imagine the skepticism, that the human race would have on ogranic food if they ever find out that this particular version of food was being funded by a cheeky little imp with quite a lot of disposible income.

When asked what brought him to my humble abode, Peevy was quick enough to reply. Apparently I was his only friend and he just wanted to get back in touch with me. According to him, 150 years without contact was quite a long time. !( is it ?). Naturally, I did not believe him at first, but as the days went by, we got on really well, and inspite of us being mature teens (me 250years old and him 220years old), we managed to have some good fun by pursuing our old games of purshing innocent human urchins into the brighton sea and wrecking havoc with young human couplings who frequented the risque regions of the brighton beach, in the hope of having some undisturbed time to themselves.

Finally, after 3 prank-filled weeks, on a cold wintery afternoon, Peevy took leave, with my bank account number in his back pocket and a cheque for 50,000 gold leprechaun coins in his front pocket, leaving with me a promise to return those coins with interest no later than when the sun starts shining brightly in the sussex sky.

I havent heard from him, to this day yet. Probably its because the Sun’s a bitch (Quoted from converstaion with Gounder Brownie) who doesnt want to shine.

Cheers
The Sand Leprechaun

Please feel free to engrave your well mannered comments on the sand book !

First edition of Blogging in the Sand

Welcome to the First edition of blogging in the sand !!

First of all, I’d like to introduce myself . MYself izz the Blogging Sand Leprechaun. Now before I go on further, I must thank my close friend, Gounder Brownie, who unwittingly helped me gather the bravura to make this foray into the world of blogging. It was by chance that I bumped into Gounder Brownie, as it gradually dug through the sand. Now there may arise 2 questions, what was I, a leprechaun doing in the sand and what was a brownie doing diggging. Well, to make things clearer, I’m not the usual leprechaun. The whole myth of leprechauns were that we were a buch of nosy old fools which long beards,wearing an impish smile and guarding a sack of gold. Well, that aint me ! I’m a more hybrid variety of leprechaun, I’m quite tall (somewhere around 2feet in height), with an average build (must be roughly around a 150pounds) and no, I dont wear GREEN clothes. I’ve got lots of colours of clothes, which is probably why they wouldnt let me join the Glorified Leprechaunian Club, which holds its weekly meeting under the sanddune in Brighton Pier. I’m also not “old” (do you really think 250years is old, I’m in my teens for crying out loud), like they very graciously pointed out. However, I do have a big similarity to the other leprechauns…I’ve got tons of gold, and this brings me to the answer to what I was doing in the sand. I was just hiding my gold. If you are quite well accquainted with leprechauns, then you’d probably know that we are damn rich and we try to devise ingenious ways of hiding our “most-sought-after” gold coins.

Well, with the current situation of deforestation happening in full swing, its needless to say, my humble abode under the bark of a giant Chicken tree, was cut down in the process. (Ref Gounder Brownie, conversation dated 08-11-2006,time: 745pm : For my human readers — Chicken tree is the tree on which chickens grow and when they are tired of growing, they just cease to grow and then fall down , and you carnivorous humans pick them up and eat them). Anyway, after incalculable days of searching (it was probably months, you never know time and date when you’re on the run), I finally located my current haven, right outside this beautiful city of Brighton. Initially I found it difficult to dig, since I’m a cobbler by ancestry, and it wasnt made any easier by the fact that Brighton’s beach is mainly pebble oriented. Howeever, I managed to find a great small sandy spot by the beach, where the water wouldnt seep through and the sun wouldnt bother me.

So, I had just settled in and was starting to relax under the impression that nobody would trace me here and wouldnt be able to lay hands on my gold ( which reminds me ..I have absolutely no idea what to do with all this gold), and one wet wintery day, here comes Gounder Brownie, happily burrowing up into the hall of my newly constructed 3 tier(underground) sand castle. As I jumped up in shock of having an uninvited visitor, Gounder brownie quite gleefully shook off all its double decker dust on my clean carpetted floor and made way towards the fireplace( YES..for the umpteenth time..I HAVE A FIREPLACE…It gets really cold !!!). As I stared at it, trying to make sense of where it came from and what a brownie was doing in my castle, it quite freely snuggled by the fire. I strode over to the brownie, quite irritated and decided to give it a piece of my mind , when it suddenly glanced up at me and gave me this sweet little smile, and so to cut this long story short, I decidedly forgave it and we became really good friends.Now, Gounder brownie was this incredibly sooper blogger, who was trying to find some treasure buried in the sand, so that it could sponsor its blogging. As chance happened, it met with a dead end, somewhere deep down in the sand dungeons of brighton and got lost in the grubby maze. So, it was out of sheer desperation that it started to dig upwards and burst like a volcano into my humble abode. So, after a warm glass of tea(yes, we magical creatures do drink tea !), we sat by the fire, and gounder brownie connected my “GOLD” portable computer to the “under-net” and showed me its blogs. So started the fire of blogging within me, which has been vented out in this sand blog today.

So with the blessings of the sand gods and my dear friend the Gounder Brownie ( the worlds only blogging brownie), I submit this first sand blog.

By the way, Gounder brownie, joins me quite often at my sand castle , where we enjoy a nice talk by the fireplace, sipping a glass of salt-free crystalfree sea water, which we purchase from the renowned 99p shop for magical creatures. The only difference between then and now, is that we have 3 other magical pals who havent yet started blogging, but are very much a special part of our club. Just a brief intro for them ……. my soul mate the beaut and charming Sand pixie, and another one of our couple friends Count Soltaar Gnome and the very much unreserved Fräulein Chummy elf

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Until Next time…….

The Sand Leprechaun

Please feel free to engrave your well mannered comments on the sand book !

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