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..