Gizmos

Now that the days find me less occupied with work at the office, my domestic responsibilities take over. I enjoyed living out-o'-box but no longer! I set myself the task of cleaning it all up and it sure is a tiresome job. Cartons upon cartons of books took most of my time. This time I decided to stack the loft with books that I will not be reading in the next 12-18 months. All my lofts are full. Then I decided to stack the lower compartment of my massive cupboard with books and magazines that I have read and will not be re-reading in the next 12-18 months. The compartment is full. Goes to show that I have a lot of reading to do after a year! :-)

In the midst of all these cartons stood an innocent and seemingly drab structure. A wooden stool which looked vaguely familiar (many things in my house are vaguely familiar, and my mother would ask me occasionally, "Remember me? Your mother?" ;-). I stopped my sweaty job and stood staring it. It looked fresh, but something about it reminded me of days which coloured my life about 15 years ago. I went around it and around, but it refused to bring to the forefront the memories that clung to the remote recesses of my mind. Such memories are like gum stuck on a shoe. They are fresh and of their particular colour till we walk great miles; then they mingle with the sole's contours and are covered with what covers the world.
I cleared the contents placed on the stool and kept staring at it. Then it struck me. I toppled it on its side like you see in the picture. Voila!! This was the spacecraft of 5-10 year old Condor 2000, the greatest ever warrior to save this earth (don't ask me from what!). I couldn't help laugh and cry at the same time, a kind of behaviour fond memories are known to incite.
Who was Condor 2000? That shall come up in another post. But this spacecraft was a wonderful creation. This spacecraft is nearly as old as the author. I fail to understand how the wood lasted so long (not referring to my bones!). It has been through many avataras and holds its present look. In its heydays it was coated in grey synthetic paint (which made it shine, like a hero's spacecraft should).
The rungs create compartments and Condor 2000 would always be in the middle. The rear was reserved for his pesky sister and the front compartment was for his knees!! The cockpit (as indicated) was very sophisticated and had all the controls required to navigate through any terrain. Traveling under water, through lava (learnt this one from the UGC programmes), through space and through vacuum (something I learnt from my sister's books) was piece o' cake (which usually followed hours of traveling in the craft. Come on! Heroes get hungry too!). The best thing about this cockpit was its understanding. Depending on the need of the situation, it would spring new controls and gears and levers. So I could shoot Shington rockets and Freezo rays whenever I wanted. There were nail biting situations when I would run out of supplies of ammunition, but the craft was clever enough to send out radio requests to its automated helper crafts which would navigate based on the signals (see? I had invented GPS long ago!) and replenish the supply. These rockets couldn't be detected by enemy spaceships or vehicles (the B-2 stealth bomber learnt this from me!! ;-) and would attach themselves to my spacecraft. I believed in reuse and hence these "subordinate" mini-spacecrafts morphed themselves into rockets and bombs (so they didn't have to waste a trip back to the station!! ;-)
Many adventures were lived and played in this spacecraft. Those were also the days of Star Trek and my inspiration was obvious. I also had a secret code for friends of Condor 2000. Things have changed since then. The spacecraft has retired to become a stool (I still remember once my mother demanding that I get out of the "stool" and my telling her that she couldn't recognise a stool from a spacecraft. What followed is best left censored! :-(
I do not fit between the rungs anymore (I could turn it around and I would fit into the rungless spacecraft of Eroteme, but I look stupid in there). My sis is too far away to trouble me with her incessant request of getting a ride (geez! how many people hitchhike a spacecraft!!??). I have forgotten the names of my rockets and bombs. The stool was re-painted twice and has a spanking new "sanmica" sheet on its top. As you notice, it has "sissy" plastic bushes under its feet.
Things change. Now my room is cleaner...