Indian Ameri
Wednesday
A generations story on story telling
The art of story telling, especially during bedtime is something exquisitely hard and is said to instigate early imagination in kids. While statistics and fMRI research focuses on the advantages of following this trait, the more important reason for the existence of such an art is that Story telling binds generations.
Unfortunately I fall under the nuclear family category devoid of the first generation protons (Errr.... I meant my grandparents who passed even before I was born. Actually even the secondary protons aka relatives that fall under the story tellers category were absent in my case). So I was never triggered into the chain reaction of fantasy land/imagination with bedtime stories. But, so far I was lucky enough to practice that reaction by fusing with my 2 year old nephew.
With the economy having its indirect effect on everyone, my brother and his family had to move to a nearby city seeking a better life, and so I had to miss testing bombs for future Hiroshimas and Nagasakis. Somehow my dad realized my bitterness on this issue and decided to throw his own atom bomb. Guess its enough to talk in terms of destruction. :D
Day before yesternight (is there an yesternight? curious me), I was heavily sedated, thanks to the meticuously overcautious fall of mine in the stairs (long story short - be careful and still you'll fall), and got extremely high. Thanks to the blissful overture, I ended up requesting my dad (after severe abstinence from mom inspite of my standards of torturing her. She'd make a good spy :D ) to tell me a bedtime story. Eventually dad decided to try out his skills on the art before the D day comes (D day refering to the day my nephew asks his 'grandpa' to narrate one).
He started with a donkey ruling the monkeys. Then he narrated the story so classically extravagant that I did see the way the background was set. Slowly, he traversed his story into modern day events like seeing trash on the road. Then, the monkey sees a mint, and after my dads effective story narration, I understood that the monkey picked the mint, offered to its master, popped the rejected mint into its mouth and with age grew into the human. It took 20 minutes for my dad to tell me that this is exactly how humans evolved. While the story was cool for a kid to believe, the age of experience kicked in the query of "What's with the mint and the evolution?" Thanks to the Bones-House MD-CSI-Big Bang Theory mind of mine, I figured it out to be a "Dimag ki batti jala de" story. Before I could check on the story and mock at dads originality he ended the story with a hilarious apology (he's got a style to it which I can never master :( ). Here is what he explained to me as a bed time story.
Overall rating on my dads skills:
Originality: 0.5/5 (Remake)
Creativity: 1/5 (All he used was Mint rather than Mentos)
Background score: 4.5/5 (He guided me exactly with the right kind of music I need to think of as he narrated the scenes)
Lighting & Camera work: 5/5 (Dude!! I did the imaginative thinking. So its good)
Dialogues: 4/5 (He gave punch dialogues. Typical Andhra style.. Jai Chennakesava :D )
Editing: 2.5/5 (There was no follow up in the scenes. But can't help it. Coz it would take hrs to keep me satisfied)
Direction: 6/5 (My daddy Strongest :D :P )
Audience Response: Great! Must Do from dads around the world. Slept good - might be the sedative which kicked in. :D
Off stories and onto reality: I survived todays complex sinuous schedule of experiments and meetings with my Blackberry. It kept on beeping reminders every 15 minutes (If I'd written the complex algorithm of sample measurements, analysis, expt, UG work, reports, meetings, I would have consumed 3 pages just to keep myself understand the nomenclature of the algorithm). Today nearly after 2 years I woke up minutes before my alarm coo'ed (no dream like last time) and got ready for work. Guess, after all I haven't lost the ancient art of keeping myself ready for the situation. I am thinking of taking the next step with my lab - to keep a toothpaste and brush in my office desk just to make sure I move in to the lab a few months from now.
Unfortunately I fall under the nuclear family category devoid of the first generation protons (Errr.... I meant my grandparents who passed even before I was born. Actually even the secondary protons aka relatives that fall under the story tellers category were absent in my case). So I was never triggered into the chain reaction of fantasy land/imagination with bedtime stories. But, so far I was lucky enough to practice that reaction by fusing with my 2 year old nephew.
With the economy having its indirect effect on everyone, my brother and his family had to move to a nearby city seeking a better life, and so I had to miss testing bombs for future Hiroshimas and Nagasakis. Somehow my dad realized my bitterness on this issue and decided to throw his own atom bomb. Guess its enough to talk in terms of destruction. :D
Day before yesternight (is there an yesternight? curious me), I was heavily sedated, thanks to the meticuously overcautious fall of mine in the stairs (long story short - be careful and still you'll fall), and got extremely high. Thanks to the blissful overture, I ended up requesting my dad (after severe abstinence from mom inspite of my standards of torturing her. She'd make a good spy :D ) to tell me a bedtime story. Eventually dad decided to try out his skills on the art before the D day comes (D day refering to the day my nephew asks his 'grandpa' to narrate one).
He started with a donkey ruling the monkeys. Then he narrated the story so classically extravagant that I did see the way the background was set. Slowly, he traversed his story into modern day events like seeing trash on the road. Then, the monkey sees a mint, and after my dads effective story narration, I understood that the monkey picked the mint, offered to its master, popped the rejected mint into its mouth and with age grew into the human. It took 20 minutes for my dad to tell me that this is exactly how humans evolved. While the story was cool for a kid to believe, the age of experience kicked in the query of "What's with the mint and the evolution?" Thanks to the Bones-House MD-CSI-Big Bang Theory mind of mine, I figured it out to be a "Dimag ki batti jala de" story. Before I could check on the story and mock at dads originality he ended the story with a hilarious apology (he's got a style to it which I can never master :( ). Here is what he explained to me as a bed time story.
Overall rating on my dads skills:
Originality: 0.5/5 (Remake)
Creativity: 1/5 (All he used was Mint rather than Mentos)
Background score: 4.5/5 (He guided me exactly with the right kind of music I need to think of as he narrated the scenes)
Lighting & Camera work: 5/5 (Dude!! I did the imaginative thinking. So its good)
Dialogues: 4/5 (He gave punch dialogues. Typical Andhra style.. Jai Chennakesava :D )
Editing: 2.5/5 (There was no follow up in the scenes. But can't help it. Coz it would take hrs to keep me satisfied)
Direction: 6/5 (My daddy Strongest :D :P )
Audience Response: Great! Must Do from dads around the world. Slept good - might be the sedative which kicked in. :D
Off stories and onto reality: I survived todays complex sinuous schedule of experiments and meetings with my Blackberry. It kept on beeping reminders every 15 minutes (If I'd written the complex algorithm of sample measurements, analysis, expt, UG work, reports, meetings, I would have consumed 3 pages just to keep myself understand the nomenclature of the algorithm). Today nearly after 2 years I woke up minutes before my alarm coo'ed (no dream like last time) and got ready for work. Guess, after all I haven't lost the ancient art of keeping myself ready for the situation. I am thinking of taking the next step with my lab - to keep a toothpaste and brush in my office desk just to make sure I move in to the lab a few months from now.
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