...those were the days...

The class had some 10 plus tonic pink and sky (extra) blue colored tables and benches; chart papers with pictures of fruits, vegetables, and animals with their names in extra large font on a label– making the tiger, turnip or papaya smaller than their labels. The biggest and perhaps the neatest chart paper displayed the weekly Time Table. Fearing the animals, fruits, and vegetables may get disfigured or unidentifiable if students attempted to drew them at age 7-8, Mrs. Whyle allowed us to just write the names.
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Mrs. Mall, a subject teacher asked the class who all had a fridge at home. A fridge in the late 70s was a luxury few could afford. My uncle had one, and since I considered it to be mine since my house was adjacent to his, I raised my hand. Her next question froze me! ‘What is the upper compartment of the fridge called?’ I could not answer, so she declared I was a liar. I cried.

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I was given the responsibility of managing the class cupboard. Only Mrs.Whyle and I had access to chalks, exam sheets, and other assorted items. One day she asked me to get her ‘Goggles’ from the cupboard. GOGGLES! After pondering for what seems ages, I had to embarrassingly ask her what exactly she wanted! I was not slapped or scolded for such ignorance. Such prizes were in store for future, in abundance.

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The date for the Annual Sports day was announced. The PTI entered the class. He asked me which of the four houses I belonged to. At 7-8 it must be difficult for a kid to correctly pronounce the name, assuming that, he rephrased the question – ‘what is the color of your house – red, blue, green or yellow?’ Mrs. Whyle and the PTI busted into laughter hearing my response – pointing towards my home, which was in the adjacent block, I said, ‘the color of my house is white.’ I was not slapped for this ignorance as well.
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Funniest teachers were Mrs. Gita Singh and Mrs. Grey. They took our music and SUPW classes respectively.

Ahem! I was once upon a time in school choir! That was when I was in class 6 or 7. I am sure there were two or three more like me, who were offered a place because the choir looked too small for a student strength of 400 plus. My favorite number was played every day towards the end of the assembly – ‘O when the saints, go marching in!’

Mrs. Singh used to come in an old vintage car which on many occasions I saw needed a mechanic to fix it for some problem or the other. Never saw the mechanic’s face as I guess, he used to hide inside the open bonnet of the car.
She caught a student picking his nose and snapped back – stop digging treasure from there. That was so amusing for the class, and so embarrassing for poor Anil.
Mrs. Grey taught us stitching – yes, stitching, embroidery, paintings, making baskets using nylon threads and so many other creative objects. It’s funny how she always wanted us to buy stuff from one particular shop – ‘mama sari wala’. I never saw any sari in his shop – only zari and gota, and our stuff.

For the PT drill on sports day, she made all of us buy white dupattas – each one of us had to dress up as butterfly. After the drill was over, the dupattas were collected and no one knows where they went.

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I was a sports enthusiast! Never wanted to lift even a finger! Just so that I was kicked out of the march past, I never used to wear a blazer during practice – pretending that I did not have one. Every year I used the same trick, and was successfully kicked out.

On why no sporting event would suit me!

Javelin throw – never took the stick in my hand, but always visualized I would invariably hit someone or poke someone if I tried my hand at it.

Shot-put – Imagined me swirling at 100kmph if I tried that, and would never be able to release the disk in hand. And maybe fly myself like the disk.

Athletics – watching Rajat Nagpal and Vikas Gupta’s facial expressions while running made me sweat. This sport was not for me.

Long/Short jump – what would happen if I broke my femur, tibia, fibula or all three!

Basket ball – yes I tried participating in that, and enjoyed being part of the team. Mom dragged me out when she came to know my role. I was supposed to run, get the ball, and throw back at the players. I was a runner/extra I think.

Boxing – most interesting. I wanted to be a boxer, I knew there was some category as feather weight and being skinny I would fit there, plus my understanding was that feather weight boxers were to box each other mildly. So the PTI asked me to get a certificate from the doc. Dr Om Prakash saw me and heard my interest and objective of my seeing him. His feedback demoralized me – ‘marna hai kiya.’ For rest of my years at school I watched every boxing event with interest.

PT – I participated in all the PT events in the sports day. While people won cups and medals, I used to think why my lot never got any materialistic appreciation like them except for the customary rather obliging clapping from the audience.
The two best things on annual sports day were the sound of bugle and the army band. Who cared for the athletics and other trivia!

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So this some Father/Brother principal of St Peters Shillong called me to his office where my mom was already sitting. He asked me to read a sentence. His focus was on a specific word, which I could not pronounce and so I was demoted from class 3 to 2 or 2 to 1.

Back home mom was crying and she asked me how I felt. I was thrilled and in all my childish happiness told her that children in my new class get toy cars to drive. Her tight slap knocked me down. I cried and did not understand what that was for.

The word was umbrella.

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