Wednesday, March 28, 2012

my school life started like this!!!!!!!!!!

Beginning of my school life……
Even now when my dad sees me off to hostel, I just keep looking at him til he goes away from my vision. The way he used to accompany me till my school when I was at the age of 4. I don’t remember the first day at school, the only thing I am able to recollect is the way to school and way back and some days in class. I never used to miss any chances of having a walk with my father. Early mornings he used to get up and go to a house to buy milk. I used to accompany him most of the days. There was a granny who used to give us milk. She was too old and skinny. My dad used to tell me lots of stories; Story of a princess, angels, Cinderella and many more. He used to teach me also. I used to admire him for the knowledge he has. Anything I ask, he has a perfect answer for that. I used to wish to become like him when I grow up. I never let my mother to make me ready for school. He always used to make me look perfect in the ironed uniform and tied up hair.

On the way to school I used to hold his index finger. He used to carry my school bag. Daily he used to walk me school on the way to his college. I used to feel so proud walking with my father. I used to tighten my hold on his finger as I neared school. The very sight of school used to make me feel nervous and a sudden realization that I am going to be away from my parents. Even now I feel the same leaving my home for hostel. I used to wave my hands at him and keep looking at him as he walks away. He used to turn around and give actions with hands asking me to go inside class. I used to be at the edge of crying then. I managed every time not to cry.

 It was a Monday. With heavy heart I was walking to school with dad. He bid me and went to college. I was missing home after the two long holidays. Being at home with dad, mom and sister was like heaven for me. Every Sunday evenings in ‘Dooradarsan’ there used to be movie at 4.00pm. When it gets over me and my sister used to feel so sad since that was an indication that the weekend got over. Friday evenings were what we always waited for. So that Monday I tried my maximum to control my emotions but it ended up in vein and tears started overflowing from my eyes. Class was not yet started. Classmates crowded around me as I started crying. It took no time for our class teacher to come and she started asking me why I was crying. I had no reasons and felt ashamed to say that I wanted to see my mom. I lied that I was having head ache. It was then our classmate Ramya’s mom came to leave her at school. She stayed just opposite to our house and the very sight of her made me tensed. She came to me and asked me the reason why I was crying. Our class in charge talked with her and told her that I was crying out of headache. I controlled my tears and asked ramya’s mother “aunty can you take me to my home?”. I never thought that would happen, my teacher allowed me to go home. Aunty took me to home and as I neared home I was feeling panic because that was my first experience of bunking. I had no idea how my mother was going to respond. I reached home and aunty explained whole thing to mom. She got surprised seeing me. She could easily understand that it was my homesickness. I was really tensed but some how got okay as aunty left. And the next fear was how I would face dad. He used to come home and have lunch daily. When he came, I got really tensed and was embarrassed as well. I could hear dad’s sound sitting in my room and I dint come out to talk with him. I could hear mom talking to him about me. He came to me and I was afraid whether he will scold me for telling lie. But it dint happen. He just asked me to sleep and he went for lunch and hurried back to college. I felt so bad for telling lie and I never did the trick again (never means never in school). The regret in me killed the pleasure of being at home. That was the only experience of bunking class at school.

Never had I cried again in school till my 2nd standard. It was our annual exams going on. Exam was from morning to noon. Mom used to come and pick me from school. I had a classmate Sreelekshmi; a girl with short hair. She was crying that day when my mom came to pick me. The reason was that her father did’nt come to pick her. My mom tried to console her. But that did’nt make much effect. Not very late her father came and took her home. After that I went with my mother to home. There was only one more exam. After that we were to leave to granny’s home where all my cousins are there.  We had packed clothes for going there. The day before going, I and my sister were just so restless. The next day exam got over. I was waiting near the pillar for mom. There were so many students and parents as it was the last day. I felt little sad when I found my mom was not there. But the thought of going to granny’s place cheered me up. I kept thinking about the time we going to spend there. Time passed. Number of students in the compound started decreasing. I saw sreelekshmy walking home with her father. She waved hands at me. I too waved hands at her. I sat down the pillar and kept on looking at the road. I started feeling tensed. I started thinking a lot. I still remember I was afraid if they left to granny’s place without me, ‘might have forgotten me?’ so many thoughts went through my mind and there were only very few students in college. Seeing them I started crying. Our headmistress was a sister; Sister Agnes. She was checking classes. She came to me. I told her my parents and sister left to granny’s home without me. She knew my family very well and knew that due to some reasons my mom got late. But I was uncontrollable; kept on crying. Sister took me to her convent which was attached to school. She tried to console me and gave me a glass of milk and biscuits. Milk was something I hated. Out of compulsion I had a sip of it and realized that it’s not sweet. I never drink milk without sugar. I had no clue what to do and then I saw my mom walking towards convent in a black with blue sari. I have no words to explain how happy I became. I ran to her and hugged her. She held me tight and asked me why I cried and also told she will never leave without me. I felt so happy for the reason of seeing her and also for saving me from that sugarless milk. I think that was my first experience of hostel food.

Though I always used to feel sad to go to school, those were the best days ever I had in my life. I had lost contact with all my friends I had there once I left school after 4th. Now facebook gifted me back many of them.

Friday, May 6, 2011

uncle aunty and the beach

Days at my home had a different flow. They used to start in hurry. I meant about weekdays, when my father had to leave for college and sister had to leave for her class. I used to get up seeing my sister studying in the corner of the room, father reading his books to prepare notes, and mother busily working at kitchen with her wet hair tied in towel. I can remember my mornings very clearly. From bed I used to find my place in my father’s lap. My father used to wrap me with his left hand reading the book which is in his right hand. I used to rest my head on his chest. I am not able to recollect any of the thoughts going through my mind at that moment, may be chasing some dreams which I couldn’t complete last night, or about the day, or might be looking at my father and feeling proud of myself to have him. I used to watch him and admire each and every thing done by him. He had his own way of doing things perfectly or I correlated ‘perfection’ and my father and thus found a definition for that word.
Days used to get busier till nine, which was when father had to leave with my sister. I have heard from my mother that I used to cry when they leave in the morning. But later it turned to be a habit for me to accompany mother till gate, wave hands at them and watch them till they move away from my vision. I can feel the heaviness of my heart getting back home from gate leaving my father and sister. There was a home opposite to our house. There was a plant in front of the house which had white flowers in the morning and turned pink in the evening. That was the time my father got transfer and we shifted to this house. We dint stay longer there because it was too far from my sister’s school. Other than the flower opposite to that house, I don’t remember many things there.
Not very late, we went to see the house to which we planned to shift. It was hardly ten minutes from beach and also near to sister’s school and father’s college. It dint take long for us to shift to that house. There were two houses in the same compound divided partially by compound wall. There stayed an uncle and aunt. He was a retired teacher and aunty was working. They had a son who was in hostel and used to only appear at home on weekends. We got used to new house and surroundings very easily.
I have a very clear picture of my life there. Uncle was very tall, lean, bald man who used to always appear in a loose shirt and dhoti. He turned out to be my best friend. Retired life is the second part of childhood, he proved it to me. After my father and sister leaving home, all I could do was listening to my mother or her stories which she would be repeating for the umpteenth time. But still lack of another option used to compel me for choosing mother’s stories. As we shifted to this home, my days also started turning busier. I had a small pink bag with white stripes in the front. By the time my sister leave for school, even I used to pack all story books in the bag and leave for my school which was uncle’s home. I used to feel the happiness of a student reaching class punctually. We both acted as a tool for each other to kill our boredom. Uncle used to accompany me in all sorts of games. I still remember us making a feast with sand and plants in the courtyard and act as if we are going to have it! But when aunty is there, she used to restrict us from playing with mud. I secretly told uncle a solution for this problem and that was sending aunty to her house and he nodded to me telling it’s a brilliant one. I thought he took my suggestion seriously and from the next day she wouldn’t be there. I used to ask uncle why dint he sent aunty to her home seeing her at home the next day. All used to laugh hearing it.
Seeing my interest in learning, uncle arranged a lady to come and teach me alphabets. Her name was mini. I got ready in the morning and sat for the class. What I thought was it would be just like the classes with uncle. But as the class started I could feel it was extremely different. She made me write and scolded me when I denied writing. All I could do is just look at her when she scolds. As the day’s class came to an end, my mother went to make tea for her. And when mom returned my teacher told my mom she will not come again for taking class. I can’t believe that the reason is true because she told my mom tat I told her she has a broken tooth in front and it looks so weird. I can’t either believe that I told something like that to her or such a reason can make a teacher stop her class for an INNOCENT kid like me.
I shifted to my old school where I had my best friend, uncle. But there was a slight change in the usual schedule. He started teaching me. I had no other choice than sitting with him when he is teaching. I started learning from him. I have a very clear picture of mine sitting opposite to him wit sand spread on a sheet. He knew very well to handle me and my tricks. He used to take sand from beach which was very nearby and used to make me write on it. i used to make uncle all letters on the sand and when my turn comes, I used to call my mom and say I was feeling hungry. This used to repeat whenever uncle asks me to write what he taught me. But still I used to listen to him more than anyone. We used to have a snack time when I used to go to their kitchen and get myself the sweet sugar cubes which was always kept for me.
I used to love the evenings when me my sister mother and father used to go to beach. If anyone asks me even now, where I would love to spend time at and my answer would be undoubtedly a beach, preferably a calm one. My sister would be done with her home works and eagerly waiting for father to take us to beach. Those are some of the moments I wish I could get again. I and my sister used to play on beach, used to love getting drenched and used to love making sculptures with sand on beach. I really miss those moments of my life. In my memories, I frame this part of life when I had my dearest uncle, aunty and the beach with a golden frame...

Monday, February 7, 2011

my grandma's place

my memories are vast. If i take a look back, it takes hardly a second to go to the age when i was three. I can see myself in a short sleeveless white frock, with uncombed hair, looking outside and enjoying the beautiful dawn at grandma's place. I can still hear the noises of nature;the chirping sound of insects and unknown birds and can still feel the smell of wet sand. The dew drops on the grass and the wet courtyard used to kiss ma small feet wishing me a good morning. There was an old man who used to wave hands at me on his way back from morning walk. I don't remember his name.Probably my grandma would know it. She gets up with me early in the morning. My nights used to end hearing stories told by her. I loved to sleep hugging her. Our mornings used to start with the light smell of jasmine flowers from the buds kept in the corner of the room the previous night. Even now the smell of a blooming jasmine bud reminds me of my grandma's room, her bed and those days of my childhood.
It was just on the summer holidays, we used to be there.Though I was not into school, i had a sister who was in school. It used to be the happiest moments because all of our cousins used to be there too. our days used to filled with fun.There were two huge trees in the back of the house and the shade of the trees used to be our play-field. Even kids from neighborhood used to join us. Fights were an inevitable part of all the games. Since i was the youngest, I used to be given the role which none wants. This used to make me feel sad and question them and even fighting. At last they gave a solution, it went like this 'c'mon, when meera (rakhi aunt's daughter) grows to the age of three, she would be the one doing all these'. A smile used to appear on my face showing agreement to the condition. But what used to run in my mind was all imagination about meera being given my role and me myself one among the elder gang. Evenings used to be the time for hide and seek. it used to be the winding up part for all the games of a day. There were lots of places to hide. But i used to go with some of my cousins.The deep fear in me always stopped me from hiding in an isolated place.
Another attraction of grandma's home was river beside the compound. The very long time taking bath also used to be full of games. But I used to keep myself away form most of the games due to the reason tat i was too small and dint know swimming. Either my mom or any of the aunts used to accompany us. But none used to be in their control.i used to pass time sitting on a rock seeing the games and watching the small fishes in the water. there were so many bamboo trees on the bank which seemed to be dancing always in the wind.
There was a hill nearby and a temple on top of it.  We cousins led by my mom were another interesting part. there was a huge banyan tree on the top of the hill. We used to locate our grandma's home from the top of the hill.There was a big tree with white and yellow flowers on it near her home's gate. That used to be the end of all fun on a normal day. Then that was the time for dinner and back to grandma.
I used to really love the way grandma scolding my mother when she scolds me. my mother always used to scold me for not doing things at the moment she asks me to do and if not done, she used to say this dialogue' i have never seen a kid like you'. If grandma happens to hear it she used to support us and say ' my grandchildren are in all ways better than my children'. I used to give a smile with full satisfaction as a reply to grandma. grandma would be set for sleeping with her jasmine buds, light-colored bedspread  and a mind full of stories to tell me. As she starts telling stories, i used to imagine each and every incidents and characters in my mind with full excitement. At last she used to chant some prayers in the middle of which i would be asleep entering into my own colourful dreaworld.........