27 years of life. Of these I can remember having friends in
the last 24. At 3 I made my first friend I believe. She lived in an apartment
across the landing of the stair case that also led to our apartment.
This was the year 1988, a time when neighbors in India lived
as families. Our families were close and lived in perfect harmony. I found a
play mate in her and we were inseparable. I’m sure there must have been
thousands of incidents that came out of this friendship but I was too young and
don’t remember much except a few. One
was this – me , my friend and her elder brother had gone to a pond in a
neighboring house – In old traditional Kerala homes it was customary to have a
pond for bathing.
We went to catch fish – thinking back I realize that we were
catching tadpoles – and were gone for a long time. The entire apartment block’s
occupants were out looking for us – about 50 to 60 people. As we came walking
home happily we were surprised and little scared to see such a big crowd all
looking at us with part relief and also part chiding looks.
My friend’s parents were not as lenient as mine. I vaguely
remember them giving her and her brother a slap or two. I’m not sure if my mind
made up the slap part of the story, but I sure feel confident about it. My
parents ever the gentle people did explain and scold a bit but that’s about it.
Sadly I was shipped off to boarding school by 4 or 5 and
there it ended. What could have turned out to be a life-long strong bond died!
I think I did write to her a few times and when at home during holidays we did
meet – but it was awkward and I just didn’t feel that closeness ever again.
The next stage of friendship came about in boarding school. On
the first day feeling all lonely and home sick – I was a small kid of 4 or 5 in
a totally new place – I found a friend, and the commonality being he knew
Malayalam! I didn’t know English back then and I don’t know how, but I found
out Mr Chacko knew Malayalam and he was my first friend in boarding. In the
days and years that followed I made a lot of friends. One of my best friends back then was my
teacher Miss Raman. Strange name for a woman, isn’t it? I was too young to
think of it then. One of the major incidents I remember from this part of my
life was this – I was the first in school to come down with chicken pox. On
account of this I was asked to stay in bed with nothing to do. My bed was the
first one as one entered the dormitory and was so positioned that I could sit
one corner of the bed and I would be very close by the dorm entry. On the day I
was asked to stay there on account of the chicken pox I sat in the corner and
touched all my friends one by one as they came in through the door. The thought
was that chicken pox spread by touching and I was spreading it. Boy was I a
villain back then! Finally our entire dorm did eventually come down with
chicken pox and we were all sent home, hurray – all thanks to me!
I remember that at the end of our dorm was a huge window –
the ones that start from the ground and extend to about 5 feet (French windows?).
From this window we had a beautiful view of the Ooty lake and the woods in
between. There was a white building in
the midst of the woods, a dirty white to be precise and a little worn by the
weather. I remember standing there and explaining to a group of boys which
included the most popular one in the gang, that the building was haunted and
all sorts of stories while the audience solemnly, with shakes of heads approved
of all my yarns!! I was a story teller back then too!! Wow – that’s a
revelation.
There were a few friends in this gang that always took
flights home. The school would arrange a car for them and send a teacher with
them to the airport in Coimbatore. For the record my parents always drove all
the way from Calicut to Ooty every time – I feel so much gratitude, love, appreciation for them for
all that trouble they went through to ensure I felt loved and had an
extremely love filled happy childhood!
I am digressing now,
back to the story – once these kids had come from their home towns and as
always a car was sent to Coimbatore to fetch them. Once back they had a story
to tell. As the car drove up the winding hills with its numerous hair pin
bends, one guy’s stomach too turned and when he couldn’t control it anymore he
let loose and puked on another guy’s head sitting in front! Today I know it sounds a little yucky but back
then the story was a constant source of amusement for many a day. They then
stopped the car at one of the small falls that dotted the entire route from
Coimbatore to Ooty and washed up. The smell and stains were gone but the joke
remained for a long while.
And then as with life I had to move on again. The school had
classes only till the 2nd standard and for the remaining part I had
to move to another branch of the same school. And as I did this many from my
batch didn’t move with me. They chose other schools and life went on.
The next phase is even more exciting. I’m going to hold that
for the next post…
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