As told by- The School bag
A delayed school bus after the school, once landed our little friend into a lot of trouble. The school bus and its driver were never even questioned for the indiscipline shown by them, was our friend’s grudge for a long time. The events unfolded thus –
A delayed bus, after the school, resulted in Purja finding himself swinging, climbing, hanging upside down, in short enjoying on the iron bars of a colorful jungle-gym situated in the school play grounds. This activity like many others was very close to his little heart. During the normal school hours, during the sports period the gym was so crowded that he did not find enough space to fit, even a single leg. And even if he ran ahead to claim an iron bar before the gym was infested by his classmates and others lucky enough to be out on the grounds because of some ingenious excuse, every movement of the leg made contact with multiple other moving legs resulting in un-necessary unpleasantness or conflict that invariably led to some sort of verbal or physical dual. This left him like many others I am sure, longing for sheer poetic movement e.g. total body swing while hanging upside down like a monkey, from a middle bar of a jungle-gym without any leggy hurdles. Our friend was doing just that when he spied, what looked like a 25 paise coin, shining in the sand below. He was hanging upside down with his legs folded around the iron bar and his eyes towards the ground, at peace finally with no one to disturb him since most of the children had left in their respective buses, when he spotted this object. For a moment he was nonplussed, but recovering quickly, he climbed down to investigate and found it to be no mirage or a trick of his over active mind. The coin was really real.
25 paise was a lot of money in those days and our friend did not miss the opportunity of pocketing it. Then his conscience kicked in, confusing him. He did not much care for a life in hell for keeping something that did not belong to him. Small boys his age are vaguely aware that one should not pocket what does not belong to them but the vagueness of this rule does lead to some confusion as to the strictness and the jurisdiction of the same. He looked around the now practically empty grounds, hoping for a solution. Since Purja could not see a claimant, he thought it wise to provide 25 Paise with one, namely he. Also the grounds were practically devoid of any wise soul that he could approach for advice and he did not think it necessary to go looking for Sesa or Gira, whom he had seen going towards the canteen a while ago. He did not considered them wise enough for such an advice. Then his brilliant brain opened a new dimension. There must be more where this one came from. He sieved the sand in and around the jungle gym with his hands and hit a jackpot. He found a handful of coins, orphaned, having fallen from the pockets of upside down hanging students during school hours. This whole treasure made him richer by one rupee and ten Paise, a princely sum by any standards for a boy his age. He was rich beyond his imagination.
Without loosing time and before his conscience could intervene again, he treated himself to a bottle of Coca Cola worth about 25 Paise, a packet of some sour red berries worth ten Paise, a sliver of aam papad worth six Paise and used the rest for buying a sticky red churan, from a vendor outside the school gate, near his bus stand. This gooey sweet and sour, spicy concoction, a great favorite with students, was served on a torn piece of newspaper and a normal serving was for six Paise. Our friend invested full 69 Paise on it and hid behind the tree to devour it all by, himself. He did not want to share it with Sesa, Gira or any other of his bus mates who invariably were always on a vulture like lookout for a free treat. After all it was his hard earned money what with all the sieving of rough sand through his hands and planning what to buy with it. He was not a fool to squander such a mouth-watering treat. He absolutely loved the sticky paste but till date never had enough money to have it to his heart’s fill, being still at two Annas a week pocket- money stage. And he, kind of, over did it.
A calculator couldn’t resist commenting somewhat cheekily, “A Coca Cola worth 25 Paise? Surely, you are joking.” Smiling, the bag explained, “I am talking about mid 1960’s, remember. A Rupee went a long way. Most of the school kids received about four Annas, meaning 25 Paise a week as their pocket money. And believe me, they sometimes had surplus even to lend to a needy friend wanting to buy some obscure eatable, especially from the street vendors at the bus stand, after school hours, moments before boarding respective home bound school bus- a gap of about fifteen minutes, definitely the most buzzing and happy period during the entire school time. But let me continue. ”
The combination of coke, berries, aam- papad, dirty hands and an overdose of sticky churan of dubious pedigree, gobbled at a great pace and churned into a highly explosive paste along with the liesurely movements of the rickety old orange school bus, went to war with his digestive system, that tried expelling the intruders, by running, vomiting and hurting. He had never been so uncomfortably sick in his entire life. He groaned holding his stomach, vomiting all the way back home. His only consolation was that he dirtied the bus enough as a punishment to the driver who kept muttering how irresponsible gluttonous students should be banned from boarding his bus. This way, our little friend of almost, pristine character, was caught between the scheming school bus, a jungle gym and a 25 paise coin. And yes, the sand under and around the gym from then on, received a high scrutiny sieving attention from delayed children on lookout for a random coin. He never ever found a coin again. Wasn’t his grudge justified?
A delayed school bus after the school, once landed our little friend into a lot of trouble. The school bus and its driver were never even questioned for the indiscipline shown by them, was our friend’s grudge for a long time. The events unfolded thus –
A delayed bus, after the school, resulted in Purja finding himself swinging, climbing, hanging upside down, in short enjoying on the iron bars of a colorful jungle-gym situated in the school play grounds. This activity like many others was very close to his little heart. During the normal school hours, during the sports period the gym was so crowded that he did not find enough space to fit, even a single leg. And even if he ran ahead to claim an iron bar before the gym was infested by his classmates and others lucky enough to be out on the grounds because of some ingenious excuse, every movement of the leg made contact with multiple other moving legs resulting in un-necessary unpleasantness or conflict that invariably led to some sort of verbal or physical dual. This left him like many others I am sure, longing for sheer poetic movement e.g. total body swing while hanging upside down like a monkey, from a middle bar of a jungle-gym without any leggy hurdles. Our friend was doing just that when he spied, what looked like a 25 paise coin, shining in the sand below. He was hanging upside down with his legs folded around the iron bar and his eyes towards the ground, at peace finally with no one to disturb him since most of the children had left in their respective buses, when he spotted this object. For a moment he was nonplussed, but recovering quickly, he climbed down to investigate and found it to be no mirage or a trick of his over active mind. The coin was really real.
25 paise was a lot of money in those days and our friend did not miss the opportunity of pocketing it. Then his conscience kicked in, confusing him. He did not much care for a life in hell for keeping something that did not belong to him. Small boys his age are vaguely aware that one should not pocket what does not belong to them but the vagueness of this rule does lead to some confusion as to the strictness and the jurisdiction of the same. He looked around the now practically empty grounds, hoping for a solution. Since Purja could not see a claimant, he thought it wise to provide 25 Paise with one, namely he. Also the grounds were practically devoid of any wise soul that he could approach for advice and he did not think it necessary to go looking for Sesa or Gira, whom he had seen going towards the canteen a while ago. He did not considered them wise enough for such an advice. Then his brilliant brain opened a new dimension. There must be more where this one came from. He sieved the sand in and around the jungle gym with his hands and hit a jackpot. He found a handful of coins, orphaned, having fallen from the pockets of upside down hanging students during school hours. This whole treasure made him richer by one rupee and ten Paise, a princely sum by any standards for a boy his age. He was rich beyond his imagination.
Without loosing time and before his conscience could intervene again, he treated himself to a bottle of Coca Cola worth about 25 Paise, a packet of some sour red berries worth ten Paise, a sliver of aam papad worth six Paise and used the rest for buying a sticky red churan, from a vendor outside the school gate, near his bus stand. This gooey sweet and sour, spicy concoction, a great favorite with students, was served on a torn piece of newspaper and a normal serving was for six Paise. Our friend invested full 69 Paise on it and hid behind the tree to devour it all by, himself. He did not want to share it with Sesa, Gira or any other of his bus mates who invariably were always on a vulture like lookout for a free treat. After all it was his hard earned money what with all the sieving of rough sand through his hands and planning what to buy with it. He was not a fool to squander such a mouth-watering treat. He absolutely loved the sticky paste but till date never had enough money to have it to his heart’s fill, being still at two Annas a week pocket- money stage. And he, kind of, over did it.
A calculator couldn’t resist commenting somewhat cheekily, “A Coca Cola worth 25 Paise? Surely, you are joking.” Smiling, the bag explained, “I am talking about mid 1960’s, remember. A Rupee went a long way. Most of the school kids received about four Annas, meaning 25 Paise a week as their pocket money. And believe me, they sometimes had surplus even to lend to a needy friend wanting to buy some obscure eatable, especially from the street vendors at the bus stand, after school hours, moments before boarding respective home bound school bus- a gap of about fifteen minutes, definitely the most buzzing and happy period during the entire school time. But let me continue. ”
The combination of coke, berries, aam- papad, dirty hands and an overdose of sticky churan of dubious pedigree, gobbled at a great pace and churned into a highly explosive paste along with the liesurely movements of the rickety old orange school bus, went to war with his digestive system, that tried expelling the intruders, by running, vomiting and hurting. He had never been so uncomfortably sick in his entire life. He groaned holding his stomach, vomiting all the way back home. His only consolation was that he dirtied the bus enough as a punishment to the driver who kept muttering how irresponsible gluttonous students should be banned from boarding his bus. This way, our little friend of almost, pristine character, was caught between the scheming school bus, a jungle gym and a 25 paise coin. And yes, the sand under and around the gym from then on, received a high scrutiny sieving attention from delayed children on lookout for a random coin. He never ever found a coin again. Wasn’t his grudge justified?
Absolutely brilliant!
ReplyDeleteThe thought process resemblesthat ofa young child so closely that it is impossible to guess the age of the writer... :-)
Absolutely Brilliant!!
ReplyDeleteThe thought process resembles that of a child. So much so that it's tough to guess the author's age...