Happys Birthdays

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Once upon a time there was a girl, who like most other children her age, was super excited about birthdays. Birthdays then, made it to the top of the list of special days. The attention, the gifts, the leeway one gets on birthdays, etc. made it all the more cool. The birthday parties with neighbor friends was most often an event by the kids, of the kids and for the kids! The bill and food excused as parents’ responsibility, of course. That big box of Quality Street chocolates and the new birthday dress were pieces of treasure. In a world of school uniforms, she would tread around like a queen in a civilian outfit, popularly termed as ‘color dress’.

She was born in the month of October. It was not just her birthday that was dear to her. The month of October itself held a very special place in her heart. In the beginning of the year, before the new calendar took its place on the wall, she would secretly flip to see the image for the month of October. Every year she secretly hoped she would forget her birthday and be surprised when others wished her. The excitement, however, always made sure that that never happened.

As she grew up she attempted many an experimentation on this day. In junior school she asked the class prefect if she could ‘mind the class’(an act of making sure the rest of the class keeps it low in between two class hours) on her birthday. To her surprise, the class prefect not just gave her the responsibility; she did it like it was an honor to do so.  In high school she felt she needed to see how the Principal’s cabin looked like. Not everyone gets to tread in there. On one of her birthdays, after she was done distributing chocolates in her classroom, on her way to the teachers’ staff room, she decided to test if her ‘color dress’ would do its magic on the security guarding the Principal’s cabin. Today, she wonders if it were the clothes, the big wide smile or the chocolates offered to the security that earned her a pass to get into the Principal’s cabin. Talk about small pleasures… ‘He even touched me on my head and said, God bless you MY girl.” she boasted to her friends.

When she went to college, she learned that birthdays could be really messy, fun and full of surprises. Those egg smashes, the bucket full of God-alone-knows-what mixture poured over, the beautifully made-up rooms, which teenage creativity and some pocket money would permit; the gifts, the midnight cakes, birthday cards, hugs, wishes, and letters! No matter what difference in opinion one might have, birthdays always bought the teenage folk together, which truly meant a lot.

She grew up to learn that there are also people in this world who doesn’t care all that much about birthdays. Yes, of course, they felt good when they were at the receiving end but it seemed too silly to return the gesture. She felt the explanation too bizarre at first and then faced a thought provoking question from them– why do birthdays have to be treated special? It’s neither earned nor is it an achievement; it’s just an automatic process. She never had an answer for that.

A couple of years later, she got the answer during a casual conversation with a friend, who had lost her husband quite early in their marriage. “I’ll never turn 40 and it doesn’t feel great.” her husband once told her. He, who was a cancer patient, may his soul rest in peace. 

She is a mother today and is absolutely delighted to see the sparkle in her child’s eyes when he learned that mothers have birthdays too. Age has turned her birthday excitement to gratitude. Gratitude for life, gratitude for friends, for people who may have gotten on her nerves but invariably pushed her to discover the best in her and discover her true inner strength, gratitude to see that excitement doesn’t die off, it simply passes on to the next generation.

“Appa, we should get a Barbie for Amma because she is a girl and it’s her birthday!” - this thought was the greatest gift she got this birthday.

Yes, birthdays are not an achievement. But, life is not always about achievements, is it? Life is like the air you breathe or like your best physical aspect you have- it may be your hair, your complexion, your teeth, anything.

We don't pay for oxygen so I don't know if we even care about the air we breathe until we get breathless. Similarly, most often your best is the one that is taken for granted. I have dark skin. I also have great hair and a wonderful smile. However, I have spent countless moments of my life trying to get fair. Today, I cherish myself so much more for what I am that I love my skin tone too.

Life is a boon; a blessing! Celebrate, cherish and respect it. 

Cheers to life!

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Back to School – the Early Morning Chorus, the Mighty Rains, the Creaky Cabins, and the Game of Hide and Seek

Courtesy: quotesinpaper.us

Like I promised, let's continue our journey back to those innocent days. Since we had stopped with the school bus yesterday, I thought I'll start with the early morning assembly, today. Have fun!

THE ASSEMBLY:

My mind's camera pictures multiple rows of us students, standing at one-arm distance on the concrete ground, facing our Principal, the teachers and two randomly-picked senior students - one, bestowed with the huge responsibility of leading the Morning Prayer (to guard our school, country of residence and country of origin) and School Pledge (a reminder of where we were and why we were there) and another to read out news highlights.

To think of it now, I am not sure why we had to repeat the Morning Prayer and the Pledge after anybody; everybody, including the dignitaries, knew them by heart. A rhythm-inducing technique, perhaps. I considered 8 a.m news reading a complete waste of time and energy. As far as I can remember, everything other than, ‘Honorary principal, Respected teachers and my dear friends. Today’s news!’ evaporated into thin air. 

All these are great memories; but the part that I enjoyed most during assembly-time was the part where we sang the National Anthems - the Jana Gana Mana (India's National Anthem) and the Aishibiladi (U.A.E's National Anthem) followed by the class disperse clap!

These were done with so much synchronization with no rehearsals or anybody in the lead – it was then, still is and will always be music to my ears.

THE CLASSROOMS:

The blackboard, the chalks, the duster, the notice board, the wooden chairs and tables with steel legs, the teachers, the lessons and all that mindless chatter – I loved my classroom.

P:
A:
T: 36

Everyday after she takes attendance, that’s the first thing each class teacher writes out on the blackboard - precisely speaking, on the top right corner of the board. P stood for no. of students present; A, for the no. of students absent and T was for total number of students. As a matter of practice, that was considered the non-erasable section of the blackboard. Every teacher entering the classroom instantly knew the strength of the class for the day.

There were two things that were great surprises – an absent teacher or a lot of absent students. An absent teacher was a boon that was granted once in a blue moon. It was an invited break, if there was no one available to do a proxy.

Lots of absent students was bumper lottery! And our gang would never miss any of them. Back then, the Dubai drains were not one bit ready for the rains. And weren't we glad about that! The roads and the school grounds got flooded. School buses would ply but parents would worry about children falling ill.

The P on the blackboard would definitely score only a 10 or less. Now that I know the funda behind taking leaves and salaries, I understand why teachers ended up coming to work on those days. Words cannot describe the triumph we felt when each of our teachers opened the door, got startled at the number of students, looked at the blackboard to cross-check and apologetically left the classroom.

Thanks to those worried parents and the helpless ones such as ours’, these seasonal joys lasted for a couple of days sometimes even a week. I do not know why but we preferred sitting up on the tables and chatting, rather than on the chairs, on such occasions…

THE CABINS:

It would be right to say that our school grew along with us. Each time a new building was set to get constructed, we would believe it was for us to be seated in. There were constructions happening all around the place. Owing to space constraints, once, there were temporary cabins-on-stilts set up in lieu of classrooms for some of us privileged souls. Those classrooms, which we believed, were the cutest, was so much fun. We could hear each of our footsteps when we walked over those floors. It felt as if we were one of those superwomen whose very footstep could get the earth trembling underneath. The creak of the door and the tiny flight of steps, the temporary walls that resembled Styrofoam, everything seemed to amaze us.

THE AFTERNOON SHIFT:

Back in school, a notice, announcing important events were titled as The Circular. One of the strangest Circulars that took the rounds announced that we, girls of class III, would have afternoon shift for a year, due to lack of classrooms.

For the benefit of those of you who may not know how it is out there in the gulf, schools worked in shifts. Girls attended classes in the morning and boys in the afternoon.  So this particular Circular was received with different kinds of emotions.

“But why?”, asked an anxious bunch. “Gosh! Will we reach home in time for the cartoons?”, wondered the confused bunch. “Psst… we’ll have to come with the boys now, IN THE SAME BUS.”, whispered a scandalous bunch in horror. Thankfully, the bunch I used to hang out took this news at perfect ease. We were extremely pleased because we figured that we won’t have to wake up early.

I distinctly remember an incident at our bus stop, during this phase. We were playing hide and seek, while waiting for our bus. I came out triumphantly – the denner had not found me. I came out and felt strange. Something was amiss. Nobody seemed to be around. Did I come out too soon? Was everybody still in their hiding? That's when I saw my next-door neighbor friend, B. He also looked lost. We then noticed that nobody else’s bags were there except for ours.

 “Uh oh!” we realized it with a sigh - we MISSED THE BUS. Seeing a petrified me, B took my hand and got all protective.

B: “Don’t worry Bis...”

Me: “Oh no! What do we do? Why didn't anybody call us? How can everybody be so selfish, B?”

B (confused): “It’s ok Bis, I’m there.”

Me (tensed and worried): “You can’t drive, B.”

B: “Let’s go up to your house and tell your dad. He’ll drop us, won't he?”

Me: “No, he’ll scold me.”

B: “I’ll tell him.”

Me: “Still. He’ll scold me.”

B: “Let’s go up and tell my dad.”

I thought about that option for a while and shook my head…

Me: “Your dad will tell my dad and then, he’ll scold me.”

B gave up and left my hand.

And then, in the horizon, there came, what I believed was an angel - another Indian High School Bus. Oh my! Decades later, even today, when I write about this incident, I can feel it – as if God just rushed down taking the form of a school bus.

Me (confused again): “But, will it stop for us. This is not a stop allotted for them right?”

B (waving out his hand at the bus): “Let’s find out.”

The bus stopped and so did my racing heart.

B (to the assistant on the bus, whom we all generally called ‘chacha’): “Missed our bus, chacha... can we come in?”

Thank God for uniforms, we got permitted in. All the children on that bus stared at us like we landed from another planet. We quietly walked and sat on a seat, thankful to God for saving us from all that yelling in the luxury of a car.

That's all for today! I'll get back with more school memories tomorrow...

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Back to School – the Kindergartener, the Careless Child, the Morning Jogs and the Dear ol’ Bus
Rewinding to April 18, 1984
My Magic Beans

Back to School – the Kindergartner, the Careless Child, the Morning Jogs and the Dear ol’ Bus

Courtesy: clipartbest.com

Nowadays, with a son aged two, there are lots of discussions on schools. Quite naturally for me, it’s easy to drift back and think of the good ol’ days. Let’s all go back to school…

K.G. K:

I don’t remember a lot of my kindergarten days except us kids gathered around the teacher’s table, running out, playing in the sand and a classmate who once came up to me, advising me to discard my soiled handkerchief. She said that’s what her mother did after blowing her nose. “But you throw away tissue papers not hankies”, I countered. “Even that’s white just like this. I’m sure it’s the same. It should be thrown”, she stuck to her resolve.

To my mother’s relief I didn't take that advice seriously.

THE PENCILS AND THE WATER BOTTLE:

My pencil box and my water bottle were two challenges that I couldn't tackle throughout my schooling period. My pencil box, the one commanded to return as is, was almost always destined to return half empty – I had adventurous pencils that never returned to the box. Thankfully, my eraser, sharpener and scale lacked the enthusiasm of their skinny counterpart. On the contrary, my water bottle, the one that was supposed to be empty by the end of the day, got back just the way it left home. I never seemed to get that right.

I believe my father invested quite a sum of money into pencils. Gladly, the pens I owned found their way back into my pouch everyday. Some lessons take time, I guess...

THE BUS STOP:

I lived 15 minutes away from where my school was located. Ours was the first pick-up point and we had, probably, five others before we reached our destination. We had pick-up points that were a stone’s throw away from each other. Talk about convenience!

If any of my friends are of the opinion that I am a late Kate – it’s true and it’s been there from time immemorial. It was a usual sight for my bus mates to see me jogging behind the 7:30 a.m. bus to catch it at least at the next pick-up point. There were times when I have wondered if I would make it to the Guinness Book of World Records if I ran behind it till school.

I am grateful that my non-athletic nature shunned looking into this possibility on a serious note.

THE BUS

In the beginning bus rides were all about reciting rhymes over and over again, jumping in the bus when it goes over humps; laughing at things I just can’t seem to remember, etc. 

In high school, bus rides were still fun but on a different note. There were four of us who were the oldest on the bus. It was an unwritten rule that the right hand side of the longest seat at the back of the bus; and the one in front of it was ours. That was our gossip-cum movie replay zone.

Friday being a holiday, it was customary for a new movie to be out on cassettes every Thursday evening. It was also customary for Channel 33 – the then local TV Channel of Dubai to play a Hindi movie on Thursday nights. The four of us used to enact these movies that we would have watched over the weekend. I don’t know how we did them after viewing the movie just once, but we did it with a lot of vigor and zeal. It was as if we had a screen test coming up soon. Nothing was rehearsed for this act. If all four of us hadn't watched the same movie, there wouldn't be any acting sessions, just motivations with highlights to watch the movie. It was sheer fun!

Talking about fun, there comes to my mind another incident which was pure fun when we were at it, but not quite after a while. This one was with my gang in class – six of us. It was one of those boring high school days. I don’t have a speck of memory with regards to why we didn't have class and what we were doing loitering in the campus. At that age, the thought of bunking classes was not even an idea at its genesis. Whatever the reason be, the point is that we had nothing to do. Roaming around the campus on that hot day, we stopped by for some shade at the parking lot allotted for the school buses. We noticed that there was nobody around – just open buses. What did we fancy about a parked bus? I don’t know - I'm not 11 anymore. It’s human to have aching legs the moment you see empty seats. So we hopped into one of the buses. At first it was the echo of our footsteps in a still and empty bus that intrigued us. I don’t know when the devil got the better of us; because before we knew, we were cheering and racing each other - two at a time. If that wasn't bad enough, we decided to run over the seats, along the aisle with one foot each on adjacent seats. I wish I could tell you that you should try that some time because it was super fun. Once we were drained from this activity, we realized that all the seats were soiled with our footprints on them. By the time, sense put a reign on us and we decided to wipe them away with our handkerchiefs, one of us spotted a man, dressed in a bus driver’s uniform, walking towards the bus. Out we jumped and ran away for the fear of being caught! All those moral studies of being apologetic and owning up one’s faults went down the drain. I swear I saw myself getting scolded at in the Principal’s office, my dad’s angry face and an eventuality which I didn't know how to imagine – all this in the split of a second.

Never once later had any one of us suggested doing such a thing on a boring day which is verdict in itself that we all swore inwardly never to repeat such a thing ever again.

I think I'll stop for today. Hope you had a fun ride so far. This is not all. I’ll be back with more school memories tomorrow. Stay tuned!

Also Read:

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Back to School - the Biscuit, the Dance and the Sketches

A Death Visual

Courtesy: www.imgion.com

In a recent church sermon, the priest was preaching on the most celebrated topic - sin. Elaborating on that topic led to the sub topic called confessions. In an attempt to give his people a nudge at effectively looking into the well being of their own souls, he took us through a creative thinking process. He wanted us to close our eyes and imagine our own funerals while he described one.

Honestly, whenever I have been to a funeral, I have had my thoughts of what the dead might be going through. The most suffocating part, according to me, is when they close the coffin. So yes! Since I am a fan of new experiences I closed my eyes and decided to do this rather sincerely. I decided to imagine this one positively. Death after all is a visa stamp to another world.

So here goes, the excerpts of the priest's monologue and my visuals...

Priest (P): So there you are suddenly gasping for breath, fainting and falling. People lift you into a car and rush you to a nearby hospital... you are in the ICU with doctors all around an unconscious you. While they are contemplating on various possibilities of recovering you, diagnosis, etc. you are in conversation with the angel of death... the angel says that your time has come...

Picture in mind (PIM): Me on a hospital bed, totally ignoring the chaotic environment, as I was involved in a pleasant conversation with a cute looking angel.
Me (feeling all elated and humbled): Oh my! You must be an angel?"
Angel (in a calm voice): Yes I am. I'm a messenger sent to tell you that your time's up. You need to come with me now. Don't be scared.
Me: Oh no! I'm not scared. So, umm, is my destination finalized?
Angel (smiling): I know what you mean and I can imagine the zillion questions you have right now. But no, your destination isn't revealed to us. We are given orders to take you to this house where you'll be made comfortable till your results are out.
Me: RESULTS? Ooh they have always made me uneasy...
Angel: Don't worry. We can't change anything now, can we? So you ready to go?
Me: I am so grateful you came to take me today. You know? I mean, of course you know! It was my son's daughter's first holy communion today morning. So all my loved ones are here. We were just about to retire into our beds when I felt kinda dizzy and stuff.
Angel smiled all the more.
Me: It's courteous to say a bye. They teach us that in families, schools and catechism classes, here on earth. I've heard you don't give us a chance at that. But do you mind if I just, you know, go around and say my good byes?
Angel: Well yes you can. It's just that I don't think they can hear or feel you... But, you can kiss them all good bye.

That's when I realized that I was like a genie outside the bottle by then, floating freely. I turned around and looked down at my face for one last time. It wasn't all that bad after all!

The angel was right. None of them could hear my good byes. But I did hug and kiss them all. And off we flew...

Coming back to the priest. He was still in negotiation with the angel of death... Like I mentioned before, I had decided to keep my thoughts positive. Mine's going to be peaceful and when I have no debts or regrets whatsoever.

P: You are there lying still in the coffin in the courtyard of your house...

PIM: With all due respect, how could I possibly be in the coffin? I am outta that body Reverend. I was in the room set for me and I could see what was happening below. I was nervous about my results but it was sheer bliss seeing my loved ones shed a tear for me. It filled me with pleasure that they were thinking of all the good times they've shared with me. It's hilarious that there's this crowd who is but forced to say only good things about me for a while. Sometimes social pressure is nice, I guess.

P: What does the priest say about you in the funeral sermon? Is it about your good deeds or is he just making a general death sermon?

PIM: I get the pun. But I am the organizer at my place, all the time. I expected the priest to just give a general sermon, not that I am bad person. Ooh! But it was kinda personal. Looks like my brothers got an orator priest and all of them gave their inputs. That was sweet. Muah! Thank you all!

P: They close the coffin.

PIM: Good news people! It's not suffocating in there, because you ain't in there anymore. Yippe! I loved the lovely bouquet that decked up my coffin lid. It had a combination of yellow and white lilies tied up with violet ribbons. A fancy coffin lid - that was a surprise!

The choir in our church sings the death rhyme to make the creative thinking as effective as possible. I found myself smiling and singing along...

P: Did that feel uneasy? It may have for most of you. But, my dear brothers and sisters, death is a reality and we don't know the time - so repent today!

Me (in thoughts): Repent? Yes. I will always do. Uneasy? No way! In fact a few doubts that I had, got cleared. Of course, I didn't see my 'results'. That's OK. I'll wait on that. I have yet a lot of tests to face. However, I liked what I saw and in time I'd like it to be just the way I imagined it. Amen! :)