Today I was late to office (its not a new thing, ofcourse) and so I hired an auto from my doorstep to my bus stop and was eventually caught in the bangalorean traffic…
I was impatient and wondering whom to curse when I happened to see a school bus to my right.
There was a lot of bustling activity within, and I cudnt help but watch the little brats.
There were kids of different ages…. Mostly small boys and girls and a little more senior girls…
The little boys were the most active in the group…
Most of them were seated on the back seats of the bus, and 4 boys were fighting – making fists at each other… and gesticulating with their hands…
They were even leaving their seats and running around.
Little girls were chattering, probably gossiping about ghosts and miracles..
They leaned forward and backward on their seats, as though they were restless but still reluctant to get up.
And the senior girls with neat platted pig tails on both sides, were bent over the books, hurriedly reading away…
Looked like they were revising yesterday’s portion and preparing for questions from some rigorous dedicated teacher…
I was enjoying the action and the buzz inside that bus… carrying its load of restless, important little people with their little keen minds eager to understand the complex world that surrounds them. And I was very happy with the little boys, and slightly disappointed with the more demure little girls…
Those 2 mins in the traffic took me 2 decades back to school when I ruled in my own little world.
2 decades back I was a better human being …
Starting life with an open mind, a trusting disposition, a fuller spirit and a bigger heart.
And yes, restless too.
Escapades like biting my van driver’s hand to set me free from his grasp and running away to cross the road on my own… and getting all the sympathy while narrowly escaping getting run over by an auto, while subjecting the bewildered and bitten driver to an outpour of local theries by the aaya of the school…. I remember that evening the driver had a band-aid plastered on his hand…
Memories of scaling up to the heights of a mango tree along with my brother and his friends.. and proudly bringing back a green raw mango for my mother to share with her.. And instead of being rewarded and praised for my accomplishment, I was caned for “stealing” a mango from the park… Grown-ups always introduced this unpredictable twist into our simple lives!!!
Days of rain, when I would run out on the terrace with my umbrella and rain-coat and then run around in the rain (sans the umbrella and raincoat) and throw strips of paper on the floor to see it float (coz tho I wished to make a paper boat I never knew how), and then being dragged off the terrace by mother and being ordered to take a bath. And after having dried my hair, sneaking off to the terrace a second time, to be found out by my mother once again and being caned simply coz a kid was fascinated with the rain..
Days of primitive, unsophisticated selfishness…. When I broke the attractive glass covering of the 2 identical pencilbox cases I had brought for me and my bestfriend, I gifted the broken pencilbox to her with a straight face – and to this date, I get teased for this act.
Days of rowdyism, when I smashed a boy against the wall simply coz he told me he wont give me my umbrella back unless I fought with him.. Likewise chasing a classmate with the cardboard examination board coz he called me a “chakka”…
And a funny day when I pretended to cry by rubbing my eyes, and scared the class monitor to rub my name off the board from the list of the talkative pple..
And a brilliant day when I was punished by a nun I loved and love to this day, by making me stand in front of the class with my tie tied like a tail and the message written on the board “I AM A MONKEY”….
Brilliant days – beautiful memories – the best part of a lifetime lived with genuine spirit, and genuine companionship…
And these moments flashed by as I stared at the lucky kids within that school bus…
And just as the vehichles began to move a small girl rose from the seat, and lightly thrashed the conductor on the hand and grinned straight on his face..
And I broke into a smile..
Old playground, new players.
Maybe when a retired cricketer watches a young blood hit an unpredictable six, he feels the same way I did…
“Brilliant… well done!!!”
