EK CHOTI SI LUV STORY..........

I heard my parents discussing that we were not going to our native place that summer. The vacation was long........ and I had nothing to do. My friends were away ......... I felt lonely.One morning, my father asked me to handover some book to Srivastav uncle .It was there that I met him.........

I was dumbfounded, when introduced to him.With great difficulty, I managed to utter a few words of greeting. He welcomed me with a smile and started chatting right away.Soon I was telling him about my hobbies and interests. We discussed about studies, books and subjects and so on. I promised to show him around as it was his first visit. Soon it became a daily ritual. We started going for long walks every evening.

I awaited these walks since it was a pleasure talking to him. He was a treasure of knowledge. He told me fascinating tales about the Rajput kings, distant lands, adventures etc.His personality and easy manners enchanted me.The time just flew and then one day he told me that he was going back to Allahabad. I was taken aback and did not know how to react. I asked him if I could accompany him. He smiled and wondered if my parents would allow me to go with him.

My parents were amused when I told them of my intentions! I wished to pursue my studies in Allahabad, visiting them during holidays. I was very hopeful of convincing them by shedding a few tears. But they were made of sterner stuff and my appeals were rejected outright. I was just nine, too young to understand their viewpoint.

With a heavy heart, I bid farewell to Mr.Srivastav, uncle of Srivastav uncle. The senior Srivastav, well into his sixties, was a retired school principal in Allahabad. Conversations with him were so enriching that I had wished to move with him to Allahabad and continue my studies there. Of course, my parents did neither share or appreciate this desire of mine. So, that was the end of my choti si luv story.
I loved the farewell gift, a book of stories about the Indian soldiers who fought and died for our country at Laddakh. The book titled 'Laddakh ke veer' was my favourite for years to come.........

THE LAST RITES

My sister had a very dear friend called Ranju.She had a pet bunny.Her bunny was very popular among all the kids.We took turns to feed it and loved to play with it.The bunny too seemed to enjoy all the attention.

One fine ( not so fine.....)day, the bunny fell sick. The bunnies are delicate darlings and need a lot of care.It just refused any feed and soon became very weak. One evening, when we returned from school, the bunny had died. As soon as we got the news,we all rushed to Ranju's flat.The poor bunny lay limp in her lap.....she was in tears. There was so much sadness in the air.

Her mother consoled her and instructed her to go down and bury the bunny. Suddenly, there was so much commotion in the air.The 'bachha gang' was greatly excited about the burial! It had opened a new avenue, unexplored so far.
The children were never taken into confidence whenever matters concerning 'death' came up.

The news spread wide and far.......the children gathered quickly to participate in the funeral.There was a great discussion about the burial ceremony. After a lot of deliberations a suitable place was selected and we dug a large ditch. We filled it with leaves and flowers to make a soft bed for our little friend. Then the bunny was lowered into the floral grave and laid to rest. There was a lot of excitement in the air. Flowers and leaves of all wild plants around were thrown over the body.Then it was covered by soil. The burial was over but nobody had the heart to leave. It was getting darker and we had to get back to our homes.

All of a sudden somebody started the national anthem. Everybody joined spontaneously and sang 'Jana gana mana..........' as loudly as possible. I still wonder what made us give such a patriotic burial to our little friend!

DIWALI GHAR

One of the most memorable events of my childhood Diwali is making Diwali ghar. There was this beautiful custom of building a small house(doll house) during Diwali in Bihar. This was mostly done by children, especially the girls. This brought in a lot of excitement for us. This required a lot of planning, saving money and then executing the plan. We also had to maintain secrecy to some extent so that we can surprise our friends.

Three four days before Diwali Chinni(my younger sister) and I used to start collecting bricks and transported them to our flat on the second floor. Then, we carried mitti(clay). We used these to build a small house in our balcony since we had no garden area. Usually, the building was two storyed with a staircase.Those with more resources even whitewashed their houses. Some people built permanent cement doll-houses for their kids. We used colour papers and festoons decorate the houses. This task really brought out our creative ability. Once the house was ready, we had to do some shopping.

The markets were full of colourful diwali gudiyas(dolls) made of clay. The clay dolls(gudiyas) held 5 or 7 diyas in their hands forming an arch above their heads. We selected two dolls. We placed the doll above the terrace of the Diwali ghar. We filled the tiny diyas with oil and placed tiny wicks.Next on on our list were small clay pots. We filled these pots with muri(puffed rice) and bathasha(sugar candies) .

Diwali evening was reserved for visiting friends and receiving them. Young girls wearing beautiful traditional outfits and running here and there was really a wonderful sight.
With great pride we showed off our Diwali ghar to our friends. There used to be a lot of gossip and discussion about how the houses were built! The little ghars with tiny diyas looked splendid.

The little pots were distributed among friends. We used to form tolis(groups) and visit neighbourhood friends. Of course, we burst crackers late into the night. The next morning we sat and counted the number of tiny pots we received from our friends. We treasured the pots, that symbolized the number of friends we had, with great pride and happiness!

WELCOMING INDIAN SOLDIERS

It was January 1972. My uncle Krishna moyya had purchased a car and was driving down to Chennai from Calcutta. Our family also joined them. We started our journey from Jamshedpur( now in Jharkhand ). As we travelled southwards, we got the news that the Indian Army was returning from Bangladesh. The whole country was on a high after the Bangladesh war.

We had already witnessed blackouts and rationing of commodities. Blackouts are switching off lights voluntarily and keeping the doors and windows closed in the evenings and nights. This was to prepare the people in the event of bombings. Since Jamshedpur was famous for its Iron &  Steel Industry and close to Bangladesh, it was a likely target. At a fixed time every evening, we would hear a loud siren and start swithching off the lights and closing the doors and windows. Within minutes, the entire town would drown in darkness. Still, the blast furnace was a big worry because it could not be closed.We also listened to elders discussing the war, Mrs. Gandhi's strategy and finally the victory.

There was a lot of excitement in the atmosphere. The villagers and travellers lined up on the sides of roads to welcome the Army trucks. The soldiers beamed with happiness and waved with a 'V' sign. We waved back sreaming 'Jay hind'. After many trucks passed, I asked my father,"When will Indira Gandhi come?" He was puzzled. I had imagined her fighting the war like Jhansi ki Rani.

He explained in detail how the Prime minister takes the decision and the armed forces fight the war. Somewhere in my heart I felt it was not right. The leader of the nation should lead the army with valour and set an example. How can the ministers sit in Delhi and send the soldiers to war? However, I joined back the crowd and waved proudly at the victorious army. I have always cherished this memory.

THE FLAG & THE SNAKE

The month of August brings a lot of festivals and celebrations in India. The Indian Independence Day adds a patriotic fervour to the season. It also takes me down the memory lane to a very special Independence Day in the seventies.

We lived in a small colony belonging to hospital employees. One evening, as we children were engrossed in play, a dashing young army jawan walked into the colony with a box and a 'holdall'. There was a lot of curiosity among us to know whom he was going to visit. When we saw Pappu and his siblings running towards him shouting, "Mamaji, mamaji" we knew his identity. The very next evening Mamaji walked into our play area and picked up a conversation with us. He enchanted us with his tales of army adventures. Soon, we found ourselves marching to his orders.

Mamaji encouraged us to celebrate the Independence Day in the colony itself by hoisting the tricolour. The preparations began at once. We collected 'chanda' from all the inmates to buy necessary items. It was also decided that a mini sports day be organised for children. Every evening we practiced not only march past but also the national anthem. Mamaji taught us the right way of singing the anthem. He once thundered," Even if a snake comes, one shoud not move from his place. Otherwise it would amount to insulting the flag!" It was such a big shock for us. We often discussed the matter and worried about a snake crawling towards us while the national anthem was being sung. I prayed to all kinds of Gods for protection at such occasions.

The programme went on as per the plan, the flag hoisting, the march past and the sports events. Then it was time for mamaji to leave.

Day after day, I told myself to stand still during the national anthem with all the respect due to the national flag. Gradually, I reached a stage when I knew I wouldn't budge even if a snake came while the anthem was being played. When I started instructing my students just as mamaji had done years ago, I realized how much the image stuck to my  memory.