Mumbai this week (Jan 2015) regulated minimum age to start school but I had great comfort at home for 5+ years before being admitted in 1st Std at Pandian School in 1970. I hated going to school which was just few buildings away. My mother, with my baby sister on her hip, had to literally drag me to school with me holding on to her legs not allowing her to walk the 100 feet distance from home to school and leave me. Once she reached school and sent me through the gate and got talking to other mothers and I would sneak and be back home before her.
The problem I think was Pencil teacher. Her real name was Felicita but she was known as Pencil teacher because she was lean like a pencil. With spectacles and a very stern look, she was the class teacher and as soon as we all were in class, the door would be closed and the wailing would start. All of us feared she would cane us and she did to a few. The dash back home lasted for some time and me going to school was a spectacle every day for the neighbourhood. I think one day the founder Mr.Pandian, an elderly gentleman who looked like Sardar Patel, made me sit in his room, called Pencil teacher who smiled and told me she will not beat or punish me and took me to class and that was a turning point for me to take to school.
While one lost the freedom of home, it opened the vista of friends for all the years to come. My best friend was a boy named Srinivas, I don't know where he is now but hope in this small world one may meet him some day.
The school was elementary - wooden benches, blackboard, teaching the regular basics of alphabets , numbers and rhymes. We all had slates of the size of today's tablets and chalk pencil to write with. Believe it or not, we would quite often bite and chew the chalk pencil. Outside the school we had street vendors selling gooseberry , raw mango, a hard nut candy called ' Kammar Kattu' ( don't find it nowadays). I got no pocket money and all this roadside stuff was forbidden and therefore all the more tempting. It was tough just looking at other elder kids eat all that while going to and fro to school.
Thirumalaichami was a classmate, taller and maybe a couple of years older. He used to have long hair, plaited like the girls because his hair was being grown till they get to go and offer it to their family deity. He often had access to some money, don't know how and one day offered to get me gooseberries and I fell for it. It was probably all of 10 Paise, but taught me one of many life's lessons. Thirumalachami after a few days suddenly started asking me to give him back the money. Well I did not have any money and could not, coins were out of bounds at home as we children could swallow it. My earliest financial lessons started when he said I need to pay interest and every week 10 paise would get added. He would keep reminding me and as it touched one rupee the next threat came. If I don't pay up, he will go to the police and my parents will be dragged. It was scary and even more scary was confessing about having eaten the forbidden gooseberries and now being in debt. I don't remember how but I landed a 50 Paise coin ( maybe somebody gave me or I just found it lying at home) and confronted Thirumalaichami and gathered guts to tell him this is it and no more of this nonsense. I think he was not expecting to get any money from me and it worked. But thereafter to date I don't like taking favours and cringe seeking one. Thirumalachami's parents worked in a textile mill and I figured out later that he was exposed to his family borrowing from money lenders etc. and was only transferring that technology on to me. Thirumalachami where ever you are, you have unknowingly had a lasting influence.
When back from school we used to play - hide n seek, marbles were the most popular ones. Some days we used to have a flying club airplane called Pushpak dropping leaflets which used to be a spectacle to behold as the papers fluttered down from the sky. Somethings I guess have not changed - like the inserts that go waste today, we kids would compete to see how many notices from the Pushpak one collect and make paper planes and play.
It was the year of Indo-Pak war in 1971 and Coimbatore with an air force base would have sirens going off at night and at times power would be cut off. I remember gazing at the dark sky and asking my father if there would be bombs dropped. During the day, we would wait to see if the air force jets called Gnats took to sky. Sighting one was a great achievement and proud thing to talk about with fellow kids.
Probably felt the first sense of nationhood
then and here's a salute to all those who fought, died, protected and still protect us ..
No comments:
Post a Comment