Living with a conscience is like driving a car with the brakes on!!!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Note: - The mentioned incidents are of my friend and colleague Santanu. Also, special thanks to Kalpana for her creative drawings.
“Hit….hit…hit it man”…..”O Crap! ………What Hanu….you again did a foul…we are loosing guy…… you know it right!!!”
“Ouu… The fewer rules a coach has, the fewer rules there are for players to break Gudla”….huh!! (The sound was quite sharp in a very well framed Hinglish Ishytle)”
“Aaaha!!........now that’s my boy……I can proudly say he carries my genes safely and nicely”…….the words simply got discharged from my 40 years old cracked epiglottis after watching the football match of kids, playing in the water crammed field……..well the very innovative game is called as “Water Fussball”
Yah…yaaah….. It’s my cute and lovely kid Hanu. Hanu, who got his name as a derivative of my break-up name “Santanu = Sant + Hanu”, where Hanu means monkey in Bengali. His name was kept when his father himself was a kid…….hmm!!...not to be surprised …it happens only in India.
Well….don’t know exactly when this “Water Fussball” match made me slipped on the floors of the cubicle of my memory track and I finally started turning the pages of my childhood recollection album……….and heard the tickled voice…………………
“Santanu………chup koro…..chup, darao…..nahole chap-e pore jabe…. bipode fele debo ami” …….and I almost doubled my horse power to escape from my Head master after learning his verrrrrrrrrry sweeeeet intention.
Can’t help it man… It was poor me only, who got caught red-handed while throwing the tea at the poster of Maa durga, prepared by the gurukul’s student, for the durga-pooja ceremony. Actually, I was passing by the art room, carrying glasses of tea to my room. I then unthoughtfully stopped, to check out the paintings………but tell me how can I help myself if I too wish to add my own views to the painting? So, without resisting the thought, I simply drew her moustaches and gave shades to her body with the tea.....
My house warden, having seen this, ran after me like a mad dog, he very quickly picked up the broom and started opening it’s nut-bolts to loosen the attached pipe and……..and my dear friend rest was the story………….the story of his instant invention of a music piece, by considering me as a drum and the broom’s pipe as a drum stick.
Aaaah! He was not that bad also, he then later visited my room with some candies to show his expression of concern…the very same candies which he gives after every beat…but this time, since I got the cruel thrash, so I prepared myself to not to get convinced over such a small treat and therefore, I demanded him an Ice-cream!!
I suppose that this was the first case of violence which I scripted down in my diary. Yes! The diary writing was the part of course-curriculum of our prestigious Rama Krishna Mission Hostel (Hotel) - Ashram. The activity was introduced to cultivate good habits in the students.
So, this time I had something new to letter down in my diary apart from my usual complaints… ….complaints like……my room-mate didn’t share the biscuit with me, Soumya helped me in cheating in class-test and how I took revenge from Soumesh by making him eat his favourite hajmola goli, by first keeping it down on bathroom’s floor for a while and then handing it to him with a notorious thought of making him eat the highly toxic goli………..
Well, apart from diary writing, my school has enforced several other activities to grow children into a perfect human being. Activities like doing at least one act of random kindness in a day (Good turn knot in Boys Scout) like teaching the villagers, writing exam paper for blind students, clean surroundings or plant a tree.
Sighhhh!!!!Definitely, my Gurukal was way different from other boarding schools.
Our day always started at 5am when, the poor, small, lazy kid’s of 5th standard were asked to wake up and perform PT under the rising sun. After horrible exercise, we were told to join in the prayer hall in dhoti-kurta which was then followed by a meditation (Extra sleeping hours) for 15mins.
By checking out such a tight and strict schedule, you can easily estimate the amount of love that our parents had for us and their great will of making us a perfect human.
The decision to send me to a boarding school, at the age of 9, was not a random take but it was me only who broke down all the records of their patience level. Let me share with you people the incident that nailed the final decision of my parents of sending me to a boarding school.
It was the month of July, the rainy season has just got started. Those days, I developed an unsaid relationship with the creatures. The bond was developed when I used to row my paper boat in a water lodged area. Now, the earthworm, toads and flies had become my best friends. The nature attracted me so much that I decided to make these creatures part and parcel of my house. So, with this intention, I caught few fishes and crabs from the nearby pond and decanted them into the well, the traditional well of our family at the backyard of my house. On regular basis, I used to see my fishes swim. My newly built well aquarium made me happy all the time. But the feeling did not continue for longer period as after few days, I could not find my fishes swimming at the surface of the water. Hence, I decided to go inside the well to check them out. The only thought which made me think twice of the adventure was to check if my parents are away. But time! you have good time and also you have bad time…………. and certainly it was my bad time when my father caught me doing the stunt. Alas! It was not me only who got the thrash but to my friend also, who was helping me. The end of the rope was tied to my waist so as to help me climb down the walls of the well whereas the other end was held by him.
It would be hard to believe the after-effect of our accidental-caught….the reaction of my father was so unexpected that my friend got wet control the nature’s call.
“Akkebare niche chole giye tor kaaj kormo sere ne (go into it and do all your curious works!)” my father yelled while hanging me upside down inside the well……lolz!!...but that time it was so scary that it made my vocals to repeat only one word “Bachaaaaaaaaaaaooooooooo”
Nothing new, it was almost my daily job to act naughty. My mischevious plans and wayward tricks had no end. I remember the very recipe of making a toxin for my neighbor’s dog, which I hated like anything. The recipe was prepared by mixing Colgate, oil, charcoal, fevicol, washing powder, waste food and datura. Though, it is another fact that the inventive mixture didn’t help me to encash my hatred towards him as he did not eat the offered bread (with the toxic spread over it). I suppose he sensed the underlying wicked idea.:p
Well please do not conclude from this incident that I hate animals. If it would have been the case, I would have never allowed “Laila”, the dog; secretly in my room, whom I found in the pit, at the road side. I brought her home and allowed her to share my place. I always knew that my parents do not like pets. Therefore, while going to primary school, I used to drop her out in the playground and after coming back from school, I allow her the back-door entry. Since, my house was huge and enough free space was available at the backyard, so I easily managed to give Laila her dormitory, near the well under the tree shelter. She also knew the fact that I am secretly keeping her, so she never barked at night. Alas! Again, my mother one day discovered the she-dog and asked me to drop her far away from the home. With no other choice I did so. I dropped her to some unknown place and came back. But this was not the last time when I saw her. She surprised me after two months, when I saw her at my gate with 6 puppies!!!
Now, Laila and her six kids are happily living with my parents, legally inside my house, with a minor change in the situation, that now they are in and I am out of my house, in Gurukul.
I will never say that it was my parent’s fault to send me to a boarding school at such an early age but “Hero” in me was so sharp and curious that they chose “Gurukul” to develop the true “Heroic” deeds in me.
“Baba……baba…. bachao...maa marche'' Hanu’s voice jerked me from my flashback memory.
Her mother was running after him with a broom. The enquiry about his boo-boo made me to discover the level of his puckishness! He used my highly expensive, recently bought sweater from Japan, as a bed cover for the kittens, whom he found at the terrace. The very act of kindness was done with the thought that the soft kittens might need a soft blanket to keep safe their soft skin from harsh cold.
With the age, I am slow now but still hunt for such incidents. When I see my boy, the entire
Life flashes on, I see all the objects are floating around and I try to recollect those secretly. Sometimes, I feel I speak too much about the life but it’s hard to stop when there are so much wonders. ‘My heart feels like a balloon which is about to burst...then I remember to relax and stop trying to hold on to it and then it flows through me like rain and I cant feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life’.
Hmmmmmmmmmmm (a deep sigh)………I am deeply thinking…in fact seriously thinking…....if I should admit Hanu to a boarding school???