On bungling up one's life so early on....

My school days were a mixture of the sad and the happy and everything in between. I was a dreamer who liked to carry myself to fairylands like all little kids . And that's how we all tried to get by each day when the going got a little rough I believe. Hoping and wishing that better days would come. Looking forward to good days and maybe for that rare brightness in the gloom.

For me, those bright spots were the various events going on, the extra-curricular activities, the Sunday brunch, the parties at the Church, the visit by loved ones, the holidays when we were allowed to go home, and the Kwality Street chocolates from the Middle East, that some very generous fellow boarders passed around and the birthdays that brought sweets . Also, my strolls in the school playground, where, I liked to go in my free time,  pretending to look for treasures (little nick knacks) during holidays and playtime .We didn't have toys like our kids do now, and there was no one who took the trouble to make the ones made of coconut leaves for us, or teach us to make them either, then. So one had to pretty much rely on one's creativity.  I did later learn to make those palm leaf toys from my siblings.Those were the days with neither television nor radio. Remember, we were in a boarding managed by nuns. Oh, we did have our mighty, angry and vigorous fights with each other of course. Wonder if those can be counted as entertainments . And I was very good at holding my own ground and famous for it too and quite strongly disliked for being so.

Very soon I  realized, I'd superbly messed my life up, quite early on really . Let me relate this to you. At the age when  one  blossoms into one's youth, when one starts realizing one has some saving graces after all, and one is not all that bad as is generally portrayed, when one starts attuning oneself to the joys and pains of youth, I realized a little too late if I may say so, it was all already messed up for me. I grew up in the boarding, being persuaded to believe that all tender feelings of the heart, were to be avoided at all costs. Also, I'd been encouraged to ponder the good sides of choosing the life of a nun, as I was noted to be very diligent in repeating prayers and attending the Mass. It was told me that this path was one of the best ones for anyone and I should seriously consider it. It did have its allure for me for a very short span of time. Everything takes on an appealing  look if the presentation is good enough right ?

 One was looked very much down upon and gossiped about if one tended  to deviate into the path of  love. You would be treated as a black sheep if you dared to have any such finer tendencies. Alas! Can one help these particular tender feelings during those tender teenage years? This specific issue was not even open for discussion anyways in those days. You are born into this world with the capacity to love and to be loved. From the moment you are born, you reach out for some kindness, approval and love. That's the way we all are made. You are born with a multitude of  emotions- desires, feelings, anger, frustrations and with varying ways of expressing them . No escape for man there.

So, one fine morning, I end up  focusing my affections on someone . Only, I 'd been blissfully unaware of something then , or did I decide to ignore it ? Almost all the the other girls in my class were bitten by the same bug and the same subject, which was evident by their general manner .What I hadn't taken into account was, that some mischief was taking its rounds in the class in the meantime, and these were being falsely attributed to various people. Some real damaging prank was being played by someone, trying to get everyone in trouble with the teachers. Notes were being passed around to a particular person as written by certain people, while they were totally unaware of them and as luck would have it, the recipient of these letters was none other than the one on whom I had focused my affections on. Anyways, some note with my name on it ended up taking the brunt from the teachers. The end-result, summons to the staff-room, interrogation, tears, shame, isolation by friends  and all the extra frills that follow in such a situation. Now, I am able to make light of this matter, but this  particular incident at that very moment in time had changed me forever.

I learned to hide my true feelings and shun boys/men at the early age of 12 I think. I also learned to hate my first crush and vowed not to trust anyone in matters of the heart . I had found out the real hard way what the results of being too culpable, naive and innocent were. I was treated like an outcast by my  friends , boarders and classmates and the school in general. I never wanted to end up in such a situation and was extremely rude to many caring people later on in my life, this, just because they tended to show a little affection for me. Never did I get a fair chance then while in school, to have my say or to prove  my innocence. No one wanted to analyze what really had occurred . And I  for that matter was so engrossed in shame and believed the whole world thought me dirty ! For what I wonder now ? Anyway who cared for such silly things as feelings, especially that of a non-nondescript little chit ! In my young mind it all got imprinted that I'd done something terribly 'wrong', the "wrong"  being that  of concentrating my affections on some fellow classmate. Which in those days was such a crime by the then general outlook. Above all that, look at the age! Was it all so wrong? No one really cared ! A name to be tarnished, giggled at, and ridiculed was in high demand then and mine was conveniently available at the right time. And that was the end of a love story that got nipped even before it began.

In those days, countless were the times when I just wanted to disappear from the face of the earth all together. In later days , I came to realize the immature and irresponsible way in which this particular incident, like many in fact, which should have been treated in a very tactful manner, were bungled by the school authorities.

Later, when we, our school friends have had a chance to look back on all this, it has  become quite clear, how unjustly it was all handled and how bad everyone concerned had been scarred by all this. I am one of those people who try to believe there's always a purpose for every little thing that happens in one's life, in life in general . But I am still not sure what good this incident ever brought about if any, in mine . A lot of sadness to a few, and so much of cruel enjoyment to the majority was all the outcome I can remember .

And life goes on...

So, see u soon with my memories...

What life throws at u...

I have been meaning to write. Especially as I have been made aware quite a long time back that I am good at expressing myself better and stronger through my written words. ....Write something, anything . Oh ! I do have  lots to say. Its not the dearth of  topics that's kept me quiet . Just the thought maybe its not time yet and maybe I might embarrass myself in the whole process by revealing a little too much.

I am basically an average person,who, like every one else,has been pushed at every turn to make choices day by day, rather, at every turn .I was first introduced to this phenomena of having to make up one's mind, in the grave matter of choosing between a school in my native village versus in the city. Of course as a little child of maybe 3 years, the ever romantic that I am, I  chose the school in the city which beckoned me with its residential (boarding) facilities and its nuns (angels of God) I was told ! I have met some angels among them, but very few and far in between . In fact, I do remember begging to be sent to the new Montessori school in the city. My infant mind had visualized that I was getting a free ticket to heaven I suppose.

Let me tell you, it definitely was not a dream come true. It was a stark reality that I opened my eyes to and quite soon too. My first few years of being a boarder and getting schooled in the prestigious city residential school was not so bad. This, I would say was thanks to the Mother and the sisters (nuns) who manged the school back then . In fact it was good I might add, in many ways. Some of the nuns were exceptional teachers and some were even more exceptional in their kindness to the little ones . But farther down the lane, as I entered my later elementary years I was thrown to the mercy of partiality that started brewing as a result of the new-found luxury of money and favors flowing in from the Gulf countries into the coffers or should I say, the pockets of the new nuns ?

Kids who had no claim to all these "foreign"ism were pushed back in preferential treatment or rather any kind of civil treatment in the boarding, especially.You would be in a very disadvantageous position if you had no claim to a "foreign" parent. Translate that to one working abroad . Or a famous parent with a prestigious name for that matter. Numerous are the nights I have cried myself to sleep worrying why I didn't have someone working in the Gulf  ! To appease the nuns and to gain some form of kindness and special treatment, one needed one of those extra qualifications. Mind you, our parents were made to pay through their noses for the stay, as well as the schooling. All the extra partial treatment you got only if you qualified in any one of the above categories that I mentioned and if your parents were able to pay above and beyond all the regular fees and expenses . This was an open secret, which no one would own to now, if asked of course. These kind of differences in treatment is so easily gauged by a child, such things what the elders failed to notice then . And let me add that my father had  been quite well off with his business and cars in the 70's and quite a flourishing person in our parts. But the relative attraction of a  local "Vyapaari"(merchant) was zip , Nada, compared to the glitz and glamour of the Gulf. When vacations came around the corner, one was treated and made to feel like a princess at one's home, but as soon as the holidays were over , one was back to the reality of "the worthless scum". I would think this type of delimitation would have its negative effects on one's formative years . I did take comfort later in life, blaming my parents for sending me to such an institution for studies. Let me add though, that they had their reasons too. Being the youngest of six in my family , and having seen all the other kids finish schooling in our native medium of instruction and later struggle  in college, they had listened to my eldest sibling's opinion, that probably it wouldn't be a bad idea after all, he believed, if I was introduced to the English medium of instruction. And it did help form the basis for me and helped  instill a  special bond with English in me. Now why only I was send there ? Because all the others had already begun and were farther up in the road. I was the guinea pig in a way for younger relatives.

I should mention here that this same education was held over my head several times, by my  mother, over the years. "You were given the best Education available then" she would say , "and now see how ungrateful you are!". I believe I am turning out to be very much like my mother in many ways now. So I better watch out, I guess.

Then one is confronted with the choice of taking sides. Would you rather be with the tormented or be the tormentor? This, another addle as a kid among peers.Yes, I am talking about modern day bullying which is not so modern after all. Being bullied for your social standing, your financial status, your beliefs, your outspokenness, for just being you and not being able to stand up for yourself , because you are so with no support, and because of the fear of being punished when one knows one's stand is right but one still has to shoulder the blame. Well, what a muddle, right ? I got to say, the life at the boarding house did not completely lack a few bright spots, of course. Like the times one spend playing Badminton, sharing film stories, trying to converse in one's native language when, that particular act was punishable and carried a heavy penalty. The library was another saving grace I should add. The hours spent there were some of the most satisfying ones I ever spent . Add to that, the visits one received from one's relatives from time to time with special goodies . As time went by, one wonder's if  maybe the goodies did take on a teeny bit more importance than the loved one's visit ?

Had some nice friends I guess, but the harshness of one's experiences have a habit of diminishing the good moments of the formative years, I have come to realize.

Well, see u soon my friends, the best is yet to be I guess....and do keep well..