When I started rhyming

If you are one of my family members, you have heard this poem long ago and laughed at my innocence. If you are Nimisha or Saloni, you have heard me sing ( yes, I sang this!) this poem out to you and laughed. Everyone deserves a good laugh now and then, so I decided that other people should read this too. This is perhaps my first poem and I wrote it when I was in 3rd standard (or around that time, I don't clearly remember). So here it is :

My little sheep

I am a little buddy
I lost my sheep
I can't find it!
I have searched here
I have searched there
But can't find it!

At last I came to a place
Full of grace*
To find my little sheep!

Then I discovered a thing
With a little white wing
And I discovered it was
My little-pittle* sheep!

* full of grace : because 'grace' was the only word rhyming to place that came to my mind at that point of time

*little-pittle : I coined it. Thinking of getting it patented. Who knows, it might feature in Oxford dictionary someday!

:D

The Interview

Long long time ago, 
Blossoms Public School
Rampur

My first interview ever and I don't remember much of it. I was appearing for the interview for admission in nursery. I went to the Principal's office accompanied by my father and the next thing I remember was that my father and I were scolded by her because I was chewing gum during the interview. I don't remember what followed but I got selected for admission.

                                                          *****************



1999
Kendriya Vidyalaya
National Security Guards, Manesar

Another important interview for admission in first standard. ( No chewing gums this time). I could be easily mistaken for a boy - short hair and dressed 'formally', except for the earrings. I am a little scared this time, for I am aware that this is important - the beginning of school, class 1. I go before the interview panel which had two teachers, very amiable teachers. They ask me questions related to days of the week and colours. I quickly answered each question, correctly. On the table was a bowl of toffees, the candidate could pick one at the end of the interview. I picked one, the teachers smiled and told me that I could pick one more. (Imagine a child's happiness on getting an extra toffee, that too the one who has a big sweet tooth!) Those two toffees, were my reward and at that point of time it was no less than being honoured by a Padma Shri. I got admission and there was a considerable discussion among the teachers to decide who will my class teacher be, i.e. which section of the class I will join. I was an instant favourite I guess.

I used to accompany my mom to her workplace before I started going to school. I liked it, but now I had an even more interesting place to go.
( For the people who are surprised by the fact that I know about so many medicines, this is the reason. I went to medical store before I went to school!)

                                                            *************

4th July 2011
Delhi

(Background : I have been selected for interview in the college I dreamt of attending since 11th standard. Trying to get things in order so that everything goes well on the D-Day.)

I get up early. Couldn't eat properly, which happens before every examination. I know how important it is and inevitably, I am nervous. My parents are with me and their expectant eyes leave no option for me but to perform well enough to get through. On the positive side, they are there with their good vibes, hopes and love for me. We hire a cab and set out for the college. 'The College'. Everything was going good until...
Until we realised that the driver was not quite familiar with the way to college.
My heart sank and I was almost in tears.
WAS I ABOUT TO BE LATE FOR THE INTERVIEW?
The time was running out. My parents hadn't given up yet. After a halt resulting from uncertainty of our position, we made a move on hope of finding our way. Though the saying goes around that its futile to ask for directions in the city, we still asked for help and finally found our way to the college. We made it on time.
Reached college - not many people were around. It was like coming to Sunday school. Though I was not able to see the whole college, I loved it and definitely wanted to come back. After all the paperwork, I sat outside the Principal's office, waiting for my turn. ( Did I mention I was nervous? I was!).
The tension was perhaps visible on my face and then a kind stranger ( who was one of the parents accompanying their kids to the interview) said to me , " You have such good marks. You need not worry." I don't know how he knew about my marks, or maybe he didn't, but those kind words came well in time. I was next to be interviewed. I went inside. Didn't count the exact number of professors, so I'll say that there we're SO MANY of them. Took a seat and the interview began.
Principal sir : So where else did you apply?
Me : I didn't apply anywhere else, Sir.
He : Any other course in Stephen's?
Me : No
He : What if you don't get through? Moureena, my friend, you'll remain uneducated! (He said laughing)
I blushed and smiled.
He looked at my marksheet and asked : What is your favourite subject?
Me : Economics
He looked at the marksheet again. I got a mark more in Hindi (and geography)than what I got in Economics. He handed it over to the Hindi HOD.
Hindi HOD : What did you study in Hindi in 12th?

I go blank. It was like I forgot all the languages which were known to me. This wasn't expected. I thought they would be asking me questions related to economics!
I listed the things that I read in 12th ( which also included some of the chapters I read in 9th!). I gradually gained back my voice and answered all the questions.
After that, I had my wish granted. The economics professor started asking questions.
He : Do you know what is reverse repo rate?
( Damn! I didn't! It was something I read, but couldn't recall!)
Me : No.
He : Do you read newspapers?
( How I wish I could say yes! But.)
Me : No.
( Very good. The interview and my chances to get in go down the drain.)
He : Repo rate?
(Yes! I know this one! Yes!)
I answered. The interview was over. I came out disappointed and was remotely hopeful.


But miracles do happen.
The list came out. I got selected. I even got residence. I blinked my eyes many times, looked at the list, it was still the same. My parents said that they knew I would get through.

My only thought : Phew! I won't remain uneducated!

Sometimes, the valley is not as dark and deep as it seems- the situation is not as bad as it looks. The things work out in their own way ( which is funny at times). The silver lining is there, just don't give up :)

Escape

A kitty that I spotted on my way to Gwyer.

1st year at College. I was bent over my bucket washing clothes when my neighbour who was in third year asked - " You wash your clothes yourself? You can give them to the dhobi at Gwyer Hall!"
Honestly speaking, I didn't understand this fancy hall's name at first. Obviously, I was totally oblivious how important this fancy hall will be to me in years to come.

One fine evening, she took me there. We went by rickshaw. It was nothing fancy at all. The people there quietly did their work. We just had to leave our dirty clothes with them and they'll give us clean and ironed clothes THE NEXT DAY! Impressive.
I started going to the dhobi at Gwyer Hall regularly, on foot now, sometimes with my room mate. The place was more famous because of the canteens around serving parathas, (which were really good alternative to the meals in mess one didn't like) but my motive remained going to the Gwyer hall dhobi (though I tried the parathas a few times, nothing beats ghar ka khaana, right?)

Days passed and my motive behind Gwyer trips changed.

The walk from college to Gwyer was an escape for me. Off course, you can't run away from the circumstances, but I devised a way to take a momentary leave. 30 minutes. 30 minutes of my own, which I set aside for myself from time to time. Whenever college seemed too overwhelming for me to handle, I took my bag, stuffed my dirty clothes and ran off to Gwyer Hall. I still remember, one day, when it was about to rain, I still went ahead with this little ritual of mine. It didn't rain until I was coming back to college. I saw rickshaws passing by, but I was enjoying walking in the rain. It was like I treated myself - it was refreshing. 
After 2 or 3 semesters, the people who did my laundry even started recognising me, they remembered my clothes, the kind lady there sometimes asked me about college too and always asked me if I'll be going home for the holidays and mid semester breaks. I liked this casual talk, this concern from these people who were almost strangers to me.
By the time college was coming to an end, I was so used to walking to Gwyer Hall that I could do it without giving it a thought. I know it was very irresponsible on my part to do so, but my thoughts would be wandering everywhere and I would be walking to Gwyer. My feet just took me there, as if they were programmed to do so. Sometimes, I also observed the things and people around. I had ample of time to think and clear my head and at times, this back-fired and I returned with even more thoughts.
I recall the day I went there to collect the last batch of clothes. My favourite strangers didn't utter a word, neither did I. Perhaps they didn't know it was my last visit or they knew and had seen so many students come and go over years and it wasn't a big deal for them. I don't know, but it was very awkward. I don't know why, I felt grateful that these people, this place existed. Maybe I'll go there again someday.

Such seemingly not-so-significant place had such an important place in my life. I guess that happens with many things during our lives. Needless to say, I miss Gwyer and my walks, a lot.

Not all who wander are lost

Year 1996
C.R.P.F. Campus, Delhi.

I was 3 years old, so I don't have any memory of this incident. Whatever I know is from what I have been told by my parents. We were preparing to shift to Rampur and my parents were busy packing. My grandfather ( who is no more, who is dearly missed when I can't sleep. He could pat anyone to sleep, even if you just woke up)  was busy talking to the neighbours, it was his favourite pastime. I guess the little chubby kid ( me! Yes! I used to be fat! I swear! ) was feeling neglected and bored. So I set out to explore the outdoors. Strangely enough, I just knew how to climb down the stairs and not how to climb them up! Stealthily, escaping the notice of my family and neighbours ( who absolutely loved me), I ventured out!
I don't have any account of what happened with me or what interesting things I saw and experienced.
At home, hell broke loose.
No one knew where I was, neither they could find me anywhere. Panic prevailed, anxiety accompanied.
The search continued and finally they found me in a zoo ( when they said zoo, they didn't really clarify which zoo were they referring to. I think it wasn't a big one with many wild animals.. Or was it? ) Bonus? A stranger was holding my hand.
I still get teased of the prospects of the stranger taking me away with her. I would have been a completely different person.
I was lucky enough to find my way back home.
                   
                                                         **************

January 2012
St. Stephen's College, Delhi

Hindi class. Our teacher is listing out the names of hindi newspapers and has asked us to get as many as possible to the class the next day.
Where do we get them? Asked the class.
"Ghanta ghar / Clock tower," He replied.

So this was my task for the day - to get hindi newspapers. It was an unusually pleasant day for January. Sunny, warm. I was very much familiar with Kamla Nagar by then, had gone to Amba maybe once and thought it would be easy for me to find hindi newspapers. I set out. Roamed around Kamla, asking for hindi newspapers at every bookstore, only in vain. The shop owners always pointed out to other shops that may have hindi newspapers,  but they were not to be found at any of them. Went ahead till Gol Chakkar, asked the book stall owners and they pointed out to different shops and different directions. I finally found my way to Ghanta ghar and the way the traffic moves there is scary. There is almost no space for pedestrians to walk. Found the hindi newspapers and uttering a word of thanks to God, headed back to college. I was feeling smug at making it 'this far' and was sure that I remember the way back.
I was wrong. I didn't remember the way back.
Before I realised that I was lost, I had gone around the Gol Chakkar thrice.
Three times!
It was cold and I was still sweating. I gave up on my navigation skills. Found a rickshaw, asked :
"Bhaiya, Stephen's College chaloge?"
He didn't know where Stephen's was.
Sadness.
I tried again, this time I asked :
"Bhaiya, Hindu College chaloge?"
He knew where Hindu College was. Sigh of relief. Happiness.
It was a route I had never seen. I saw the other entrance of the Hindu College. Few minutes later, I saw my college. This was the second time I felt THAT happy to see my college ( first was when I came to College for the first time. It was love at first sight).
I walked briskly back to my room. It was January and I was sweating. I was happy - I found the newspapers and I found my way back to college. Reached my room, the lights were off. Tiptoed in, my roomie was asleep. Perfect.
I dozed off too.

It was an unusual kind of happiness - of losing my way and finding it back.

For now, I can happily conclude - Though I wander and getting back seems difficult, I always find my way back home :D

Troubled Waters

Back in good old school days, summer vacation meant going to Naani's place in Jalandhar. Naïve that I was, for me Naani's place and Jalandhar were one and the same thing. We ( me and my sister ) were told by our parents that we have to finish our holidays homework fast or we won't be going to Jalandhar. This threat / incentive was so big, that we always ended up finishing our homework in a week's time, so that the remaining six weeks of vacation could be spent in Jalandhar - our storehouse of childhood memories.. All the pampering and the little things that made us happy. Escape from monotony to a different kind of monotony which we thoroughly loved and enjoyed.

This routine of vacation was broken when we shifted to Nagpur and I don't even remotely remember the summer vacations spent there.

I recently read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and she used a sanskrit word 'antevasin' to describe herself. Simply put, it means someone who lives on the periphery. My happy place in Jalandhar is somewhat similar. We live at the periphery of city and very close to rural area - somewhere in the middle, which has its own perks.

And this is why I have this story, which I couldn't help recalling after coming here again after a very long time.

 The activities of summer evenings at Naani's place included us going to the 'khoo' to fetch milk.( 'Khoo' simply translated as well - but implies the area around it - the house that owns the well, the fields and most importantly milch cattle! Punjabi kid? Might have heard grandma say - khoo vich pai jaa!!) One fine summer evening, when I was in 8th I guess and my little girl cousin, Nancy was in 1st. We, alongwith my elder sister and Maasi, went for our usual Khoo trip. The residents/ owners of the khoo- the old couple- they were kind enough to offer us the turnips growing in the fields ( Yay freebies!). My elder sister and Maasi went ahead to the field to get turnips and the two of us - me and my cousin were left by the tube well, where we waited for them.

Me, the little imp Nancy and the tube well.

Nancy happily climbed up the mossy tube well wall. Water was gushing through it. Needless to mention, it looked slippery. Was slippery. I was about to tell her to come down when *plop* she fell into it! My voice froze in my throat and I couldn't move for a while. I couldn't think of anything to do. I ran to the tube well, caught hold of her arm - which slipped through my hands. I was scared, trembling with fear and almost in tears. I tried again, this time holding both her arms and I pulled her out. To my horror and surprise, she was still laughing. Peeked at the tube well, let out a sigh of relief because it was not very deep. I tried scolding her,  but I'm not sure what came out of my mouth. She said :
" Accha didi, ab tube well ke paas nahi jaungi....well ke paas jaaungi!"

I looked at the dry well adjacent to the tube well. Imagined what could happen. Shuddered. I really wanted to hit her.
To my good fortune, she didn't get a chance to climb the well boundary. My elder sister and Maasi returned (with turnips). We headed back home. I was a star after this little act of bravery.

Today, I am even more grateful for the fact that back then, she wasn't her rolu-polu self ( read plump) that she is today.

I still love the khoo trips. With everything around changing rapidly, it still has much beauty, simplicity and memories to offer. Its beautiful :)

My little adventure! :D

If you ever sat with me in the mess during meals, chances are that you have heard this story (maybe more than once! Sorry! :D ) And if you were sitting nearby, chances are that you still heard it! ( Sorry. Again). Because I'm so proud of doing what I did that I can't hold back my happiness and enthusiasm!

So, almost a year back, with the end of second year, I said goodbye to my old room- Q-11, packed all my bags-shifted some to the LCR, experiencing a range of emotions - the gratitude of finally getting into residence (again), joy of the things gained, lessons learnt and friends made; regret of things undone and lost. The relief of going back home.

Destination - New Delhi railway station.

How to get there?
No idea! The cab failed to turn up!

So here I was, standing at the Rudra Gate, with my 3 heavy bags, wondering how I am going to catch my train.

For someone who discovered the Hindu college stationary shop and even the SBI ATM in the second year ( because my haunts were restricted to Gwyer Hall and Kamla Nagar, I failed to notice what was right there,under my nose!), the situation was a little scary. Metro was still an unexplored entity, more because I found them claustrophobic and the fear didn't go away until recently, when I made 'relatively' more trips using metro ( i.e. I had no other option but to travel by metro, because it was the fastest and the most convenient mode of transport available) .

Still, I made a move, carrying my luggage. The luggage was like quicksand around me and I was quickly disappearing! I reached the main gate, was looking around for an auto when a kind rickshaw waale uncle asked me where I wanted to go and suggested that I should go by metro. (God bless him! :D ). Unable to think of any way to avoid metro now, I gave in.

Metro Station. Ticket Counter.
The guy at the counter looked at me (and the luggage), smiled and asked -
"Zyada nahi ho gaya?"
 Me - "hain?"
He - "Zyaada nahi ho gaya?"
Me - "hain?"
He - "Saamaan zyada nahi ho gaya?"
Me - "hain?"
He - "kuch nahi"
I heard the words, but I somehow didn't understand them then. The fatigue did that to me I guess.

Metro. In the train. Comfortable ride. People looking at me with amusement, sympathy and wonder.

New Delhi metro station. Being that close to my destination made me a little happy until I saw a flight of stairs.
A FLIGHT OF STAIRS.
I felt as if I was standing at the bottom of a deep pit, and had no hopes of making it to the exit without fainting.
But, life doesn't come with many options, right?
( I was not aware of the lift!)
Climbed the stairs, slowly but steadily. Finally made it to the exit. Threw the bags on the ground, panting and sweating. A man comes up and asks if I need a coolie. ( You don't say? ). I tell him the train and we proceed to the station. As we walk, I realised that the guy was not wearing the porter's uniform, nor the badge. (-_-') Tired that I was, I was afraid that he might run away with my luggage. I was holding on to one of straps of the bag he was carrying, in case he decided to run away, I was planning to stop him somehow.

Thankfully, none of that happened. I boarded the train. Reached home safely.

Bruised shoulders, a feeling of liberation, a sense of independence, an experience and a story to tell - these are the things that accompanied me home. :)