THE DAILY OBSERVER-(60)

 😎THE DAILY OBSERVER-60😎

Sun 03 Jan 2021

  THE CHILD WE LEFT BEHIND

          That special time of the year is here once again !

*एक उम्र वो थी कि जादू में भी यक़ीन था*

*एक उम्र ये है कि हक़ीक़त पर भी शक़ है*

Thus posted Tau Sirohi on Dec 30.

           What happened in the years intervening between the above two lines that made us lose our belief in a world full of magic and mystery ? Where did that child in us vanish?

JC's refreshing snaps of Tara Devi Mandir near Shimla yesterday brought about memories of a bygone era. There's a subtle difference between wallowing in the past and  recalling the charm of days gone by.But then, what is a lfe without some tight-rope walking? 

So here goes :

The very sound of the name " Tara Devi " switches on the memory mode.I hunted out an old photo of my first school to show you all what i mean when i say - a world of magic.

   My first school was Loreto Convent Tara Hall. The very sight of it is sheer magic, as is evident from the photo above.This is where I spent a year each in Kindergarten and Class-I . The smell of the varnished wooden panelling and fresh paint on the  bright pastel- coloured small chairs and desks still lingers. I had been granted admission in this prestigious institution after having correctly answered - " My name is Sarath Chandar Srinivas " ( all the Englsh in my repertoire ), in reply to the poser flung at me in the interview. That was all- the entire syllabus and content of the entrance test. I do remember feeling that it was rather unfair on my parents' part to have handicapped me with such a long tongue- twister of a label. When compared to my other classmates, like, say Rohit Gupta or Raja Puri, my name was more like an entire book.It is not at all easy to force out those words through parched lips when facing an Irish nun in the hallowed atmosphere of a convent for the first time in life, believe me.But then again, i was yet to come across monickers of the likes of Somayajulu Srinivasa Rao or, even "better", Tarrigopala Venkatagiri Kothandarama Padmanabha Dutt. Then came the shocker that we were to speak only in English while in school, even to each other. Anyone who spoke Hindi was to be reported, and there were enough goody-two-shoes around, espescially girls, who were readily waiting for such lpportunities. My entire English vocabulary being restricted to that one sentence, i naturally adopted a foreign policy of maintaining complete silence all the time, unless compelled to do otherwise under dire circs. Maybe that is why at the end of the year, i was pleasantly surprised to be awarded a prize for "Good Conduct "  at the Prize Distribution Ceremony. But on hindsight, i wonder if it is only due to the same reason that i generally became known as a " quiet person " later on in life. Being a " quiet and good boy" all the time became the challenge of a life-time:! Sister Jones was our Class Teacher and taught us everything except for music and PT.It did not take very long for my knowledge of English to extend to the prayers- Our father, who art in Heaven ………. and other pieces of vital knowledge like - Yellow, yellow- dirty fellow and Red, red- Jesus in your bed.

        There was this jolly buxom,( if buxom is the word i am looking for) Padre in his white cassock who could be spotted walking down everyday to the school from the Catholic Club, where he presumably resided. We only knew him as - Father. Every now and then, someone would proudly show off a holy picture or small metal medallion gifted to him or her by the Father. It was said that if you greeted him properly and talked to him nicely, answering any questions he asked, you would be gifted a picture, medallion or a crucifix ( we called that Jesus Cross) in that order of merit respectively.. One's "status" depended to a large extent on the number of such mementoes in posession.I do remember managing to get a few holy pictures and medallions off him, but the Jesus Cross i aimed for eluded me. I desired it badly because most of us strongly believed that one could 

"do magic " with it. Still, holy pictures and medallions were also said to keep trouble away. Alternatively, one kept looking carefully for a stick which might turn out to be a magic wand.Small collections of potential magic wands and magic stones were periodically cleared out at home by Mom to the accompaniment of vociferous protests. Then there were the horse chestnuts we called "gelas". They came in various attractive sizes and shapes. They were fondly picked up on the way back from school, adopted as "friendies" and given pet names.The power of their magic depended on how long they survived being kicked along the road without rolling out of reach. By the way, kicking around of anything was a Strictly Prohibited activity, as it lead to gaping mouths in the toes of our shoes, but who cared ? It was also said that given the proper conditions, a colourful bird would hatch out of a gela. I had a whole collection of these stored in metal tins with the lids sealed with candle wax, which was also one of ways to get a good crop of birds according to folklore. Each time someone came out with the latest formula for the hatching of a bird, i would try it out in all sincerity, only to be disappointed yet again. It took ages to realise that the fault lay not in the process adopted but in the very basic concept of a bird hatching out of a gela.There were the horse- shoes found on the way. If the two ends pointed towards you, it was good luck. If not, we looked for two mynahs to be able to say- two for joy and enjoy a good day.

Invariably hungry at the end of the day, my friend Kanwaljit and i would happily take a long uphill detour on the way back from school to the Kali Bari Mandir. Putting on our most devout looks, we would circambulate the diety with golded hands, pretending to be laest botheref about the Prasad which the kindly Panditji gave us, On his part , Panditji also pretended that he did not recognise us as the  regulars.we were.

Thst's all for the moment.

Ending with this gem from GC PC Jha :-

            मेरा वज़ूद अहम है।

             ये मेरा सबसे बड़ा वहम है

Have a great first Sunday of 2021.