Boys and the making of men.

Met a nephew of mine after a gap of nearly five years and these five years had turned out to be the deciding years.

He has gone from being a boy to being enroute to becoming a man.

He used to be a talktative and hyper active boy, like most I am told. But I, of course, had a soft corner for him.

He was my first nephew. I became an aunt when I was ten years old and felt years older and much closer to being an adult then. He became my pal. Chatted with me, incessantly. Helped me complete what little school work I had and even helped me to make and clean up messes. We met much frequently during the first few years of his life.

I survived a not-so-particularly viscious bite from him, survived the threat of a television demolishment with a battery and even managed to come out unscathed despite he jumping on me again and again (of course as a celebration that was)

Now he is a shy, even sullen, teenager who permanently remains in his room. A room which I know not what it looks like. A room with a number of stickers on the door, showing me his years that passed by.

When he did come out, he sat amongst us and stared at the floor till, I am sure, he went cross eyed. Never ventured an opinion or asked a question. Just nodded when I asked him if he remembered me. Wore ubiquitous clothes that would have helped me him blend anywhere.

I was determined to get him to talk to me before I left. Where was that boy who had twinkling eyes, big monkey ears and and a wicked smile?

Dinner was nearly through and despite by attempts to get him to talk he was still replying in monosyllables. But then I hit on the magic question. "Favourite Music?" (rock of course) "Hard rock?" (You listen to it?) and then the dam broke.. we chatted on mostly music though but for most part his replies were at least short sentences.

The clinching moment came when I, all innocence, asked him if he was already eighteen. Of course I did not think of what I was asking him ( you know had I taken some effort, I would have been able to calculate his age and avoid him the embarassment).

He blushed and turned around and told me, " hey am just about sixteen!" and smiled and I saw that little boy, who I had been missing all evening. May he have the strength to keep him alive despite his overbearning parents.