Story of a Ball

2014-05-23 13.21.32

 

Like everything else, this severely worn-out ball has a story of her own.

Chewed u by one too many knocks and countless bangs against stone-solid walls, this little thing was once as colorful as bouncy as it got. Back in the days when my biggest worry was a math exam I had a thing for a rubbery bouncing balls, or “crazy balls” as we called them. I had them in different shapes and colors, and they weren’t just collector’s items for me as I would hit them down hard on the street to see how far up they would go, and maybe invent some sort of game to play with them.

That was 17 or 18 years ago or so, if not longer before that.

At first this ball was kept safe somewhere in my desk or my closet along with other balls, but as time went by and life got busy, along with other small things, this ball was thrown around the house to fend for herself.

I remember seeing it under the couch, behind the TV or somewhere in the kitchen, as if it was moving around the house following certain stories or certain people, sneaking a peak here or eavesdropping there. Year after year, this ball was kicked around and slapped by feet and hands of all sizes, and I must say, she is a survivor indeed. In a house were, like every other house, things get lost all the time even when we sometime try to keep them under lock and key, this little thing stood her ground.

The fact that she was still there amazed me when I realized that fact some time ago, but what really made me sure she was a keeper was the fact that she was still there even after we moved houses. It’s hard to imagine that somewhere amid the fuss someone cared enough to maybe throw it into one of the boxes or send it to a new home one way or another.

Today as I was passing through my brothers’ room I found her standing there, staring at me as if saying: “How much longer do you think I will hang in there?” And that was when I realized I should at least take a photo of her before it’s too late, and maybe then write a little post in homage to this neglected warrior.

So, here to my favorite crazy ball ever which, in a world where people come and go in and out of your life like a shopping mall’s gate on a Friday night, she stuck through thick and thin.

 

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