Note: This is an article, I had written some time back. BTW, it's no way related to my life here in the UK. I just thought of continuing this subject so needed to mention it here, as without the first part,the second one will seem vague...
Read on -> -> ->
Being practical is a trait that one develops to cope up with life's harsh realities. Gone are the days when one could smile and in return get a free lollipop or an ice cream, when the common goal of stealing raw mangoes from the neighbourhood would unite all the foes in half-pants, when all the pockets in the dress would be full of home made knick knacks to chomp on during the two hour evening game break and finishing the day with small nap at the tuition. Hmmm…
My first initial stood for mischievous and till a few years back, I lived up to it. The remotest corner of my brain tells me that it all began when I was punished for fighting with a fellow classmate in first grade and the Nun honoured me by making me stand out of the class. Honestly speaking, during the period, I had the best time playing in the kids park, all-alone. And the next thing I remember was my father and I sitting in the headmistress office.
As the saying goes, birds of same feather flock together, even before I was promoted from pencil to pen, I had a gang that was principally made up of me, my brother, our neighbour's son and a few other kids from the block. We went to the same school and returned to our respective homes together. Making it a habit to splash in the little pond on the way and hooting at all the buses that overtook us, it was a routine walk every week, sharing leftovers in the tiffin and 4 kgs burden of books. But the saddest part of those many trips across the jungle to home, never led to the sight of any animal extraordinaire (not the animals in the book) or even a ghost.
With age, the spirit also took a leap and became what the grown ups call as adventurous. Of course, the gang was no more and I had landed up in boarding school. It was a warm welcome from a scorpion on my way to the hostel that suggested that the green jungles of rustic Kerala had broken the coconut on my arrival. Poor scorpion, I think he was squashed to death by the wardens after I crossed the hostel foothold.
In the nine years of my unwillingness to 'grow up', I had ventured far into the deep jungles, playing with touch-me-nots, seeing free birds, learning the lean paths made on grass by frequent walking and of course my favourite pachcha pamba in Malayalam (a thin reed like green snake). I was happy, always getting my eureka moments whenever I found out little wonders like red berries, razor sharp grass blades, new resting spot and etc.
During those days, I had acquired numerous seashells from prized visits to the local beach with my parents. Prize catch caused bitter scramble on the spot. Marvelling at the sight of boats in the sea, dolphins that jumped afar after every half hour, we would wind up each day of our holiday seeing the sun set at the beach.
Initially, after I was pushed out of my cocoon, I could not fathom the difference between numerous people that I was being introduced to as a part of my entry in to the ‘societal bliss‘. Frequent visit to my relatives led to meeting their relatives and so on, and after some time we had a fairly big ‘network of relatives’. Even the new friends were different. They knew what to say to elders to be considered as one among them. Not bowing to the peer pressure of conduct, I was soon branded as a grown up without any sense of responsibility!
Life was truly difficult as a teen. I often wonder why I would never listen to others.
Having had my way by hook or by crook was my birthright. How could someone decide what was right and wrong for me. Never in the list of beauty queens, or even the nice-girls category, I was a tomboy who loved playing guys games (my ego would not allow me to be considered weak and spend my time gossiping during evening). One of the favourite activities included plotting trouble for the warden and relishing in its future.
God! What chance did the room-warden have in front of ‘scratching-powder’, which we had sprayed, on her bed! But as they say- what goes around, comes around. Lo! She smelt a rat, whisked her bed-sheet and we went a damp squib.
Psstt…she still has no clue of the culprit though. Smirk!
Life in college taught me a few things that proved to be a stepping-stone into the ‘civilised lifestyle’. Three years were spent learning about dressing-up to attract attention, completing project reports and of course numerous trips to all small
eateries in the town.
I did not have an inkling of what awaited me after I finished my college. The big world expected one to be able to stock oneself with money and goods as soon as you landed a job. The cutthroat competitions, hypocrisy to be boss' favourite has proved that a grown-ups world is materialistic with little space for sincerity. I started my career soon enough to let it go. I just did not want to work in the firm after I found out that it was numbers that mattered and not the effort that you have put in.
I needed something to hold on till I could find a firm footing in the new world. Even a seed needs space before it grows into tree. Well, I was trying my best. But what I got in return was relatives’ complaints. Bosses whining; till I changed for their good. This drubbing although led me to change my basic instinct in accordance with the surrounding but it has not been able to dampen the love for life.
I follow the code of conduct set up by grown-ups like adding my nod to all they say, no more eurekas, and of course presenting a practical and mature opinion (my childishness called it as outlandish). Yet, I still eat the mango by not cutting it but peeling the skin with my fingers with its pulp oozing all over the place. I still stop to start a friendly chat with a bird, or even chase the cat, only if no one's watching. I still stop to look at the plane fly by if, again when no one's watching.
If only, these grown-ups understood that happiness always comes in small packages.
Read on -> -> ->
Being practical is a trait that one develops to cope up with life's harsh realities. Gone are the days when one could smile and in return get a free lollipop or an ice cream, when the common goal of stealing raw mangoes from the neighbourhood would unite all the foes in half-pants, when all the pockets in the dress would be full of home made knick knacks to chomp on during the two hour evening game break and finishing the day with small nap at the tuition. Hmmm…
My first initial stood for mischievous and till a few years back, I lived up to it. The remotest corner of my brain tells me that it all began when I was punished for fighting with a fellow classmate in first grade and the Nun honoured me by making me stand out of the class. Honestly speaking, during the period, I had the best time playing in the kids park, all-alone. And the next thing I remember was my father and I sitting in the headmistress office.
As the saying goes, birds of same feather flock together, even before I was promoted from pencil to pen, I had a gang that was principally made up of me, my brother, our neighbour's son and a few other kids from the block. We went to the same school and returned to our respective homes together. Making it a habit to splash in the little pond on the way and hooting at all the buses that overtook us, it was a routine walk every week, sharing leftovers in the tiffin and 4 kgs burden of books. But the saddest part of those many trips across the jungle to home, never led to the sight of any animal extraordinaire (not the animals in the book) or even a ghost.
With age, the spirit also took a leap and became what the grown ups call as adventurous. Of course, the gang was no more and I had landed up in boarding school. It was a warm welcome from a scorpion on my way to the hostel that suggested that the green jungles of rustic Kerala had broken the coconut on my arrival. Poor scorpion, I think he was squashed to death by the wardens after I crossed the hostel foothold.
In the nine years of my unwillingness to 'grow up', I had ventured far into the deep jungles, playing with touch-me-nots, seeing free birds, learning the lean paths made on grass by frequent walking and of course my favourite pachcha pamba in Malayalam (a thin reed like green snake). I was happy, always getting my eureka moments whenever I found out little wonders like red berries, razor sharp grass blades, new resting spot and etc.
During those days, I had acquired numerous seashells from prized visits to the local beach with my parents. Prize catch caused bitter scramble on the spot. Marvelling at the sight of boats in the sea, dolphins that jumped afar after every half hour, we would wind up each day of our holiday seeing the sun set at the beach.
Initially, after I was pushed out of my cocoon, I could not fathom the difference between numerous people that I was being introduced to as a part of my entry in to the ‘societal bliss‘. Frequent visit to my relatives led to meeting their relatives and so on, and after some time we had a fairly big ‘network of relatives’. Even the new friends were different. They knew what to say to elders to be considered as one among them. Not bowing to the peer pressure of conduct, I was soon branded as a grown up without any sense of responsibility!
Life was truly difficult as a teen. I often wonder why I would never listen to others.
Having had my way by hook or by crook was my birthright. How could someone decide what was right and wrong for me. Never in the list of beauty queens, or even the nice-girls category, I was a tomboy who loved playing guys games (my ego would not allow me to be considered weak and spend my time gossiping during evening). One of the favourite activities included plotting trouble for the warden and relishing in its future.
God! What chance did the room-warden have in front of ‘scratching-powder’, which we had sprayed, on her bed! But as they say- what goes around, comes around. Lo! She smelt a rat, whisked her bed-sheet and we went a damp squib.
Psstt…she still has no clue of the culprit though. Smirk!
Life in college taught me a few things that proved to be a stepping-stone into the ‘civilised lifestyle’. Three years were spent learning about dressing-up to attract attention, completing project reports and of course numerous trips to all small
eateries in the town.
I did not have an inkling of what awaited me after I finished my college. The big world expected one to be able to stock oneself with money and goods as soon as you landed a job. The cutthroat competitions, hypocrisy to be boss' favourite has proved that a grown-ups world is materialistic with little space for sincerity. I started my career soon enough to let it go. I just did not want to work in the firm after I found out that it was numbers that mattered and not the effort that you have put in.
I needed something to hold on till I could find a firm footing in the new world. Even a seed needs space before it grows into tree. Well, I was trying my best. But what I got in return was relatives’ complaints. Bosses whining; till I changed for their good. This drubbing although led me to change my basic instinct in accordance with the surrounding but it has not been able to dampen the love for life.
I follow the code of conduct set up by grown-ups like adding my nod to all they say, no more eurekas, and of course presenting a practical and mature opinion (my childishness called it as outlandish). Yet, I still eat the mango by not cutting it but peeling the skin with my fingers with its pulp oozing all over the place. I still stop to start a friendly chat with a bird, or even chase the cat, only if no one's watching. I still stop to look at the plane fly by if, again when no one's watching.
If only, these grown-ups understood that happiness always comes in small packages.
Hey,
ReplyDeletereally nice article.... It let people remind their older days...break from the current hectic schedule.
Mini, Very good artcile indeed.You should attribute some of your wisdom if not all of it to your seniors at school:)Those habits and mannerisms from boarding school never seem to die, we carry them all along.
ReplyDeletePari- Sometimes these habits help cope up with difficult situations and sometimes they make life a real mess....:)
ReplyDelete