Childhood memories

1 to 9 of childhood memories 

 

Appa and his second love. (1)

     Even when in his late 70s and early 80s Appa would walk from Ashok Nagar to my house at Rameswaram Road T. Nagar.

       If you know the lay of the land you would know that you have to take a turn on Lake view Road go to  station road  then over the Mambalam stn.overbridge and you are there at the junction of Ranganathan street and Rameswaram Road. 

       However Appa would always  continue walking on Lake View Road upto the Doraisamy subway , climb the stairs and enter our Road at the other end. 

        Wonder why?

        There is a vadai shop on the Doraisamy bridge where he would get his second love keerai vadai.

          Don't underestimate his skill in getting what he wants. Now that he is wheel chair bound and I live with him at Ashoknagar he has got some friends and their helpers to get him albeit onion vadai whenever they go for a monthly medical checkup at the military hospital.

          

            Okay his first love!? Always onion pakoda that too made at the one and only' Venkatramanas ' Thambiah Road.

Younger brother has his say.(2)

                  Vaidehi,  Good writeup on Onion Pakodas.  Heres some more on that subject…..

                  Appa and Amma visited us in Mumbai a few times. We used to live in Cuffe Parade a sort of upmarket   neighborhood where people probably discuss the quality of artisan breads of the bakery at the Taj rather than onion pakodas.  

                  On his first day Appa set out on an evening walk (in addition to the morning constitutional with Amma).  And as you would expect, came back home with onion bhajia - as it is called in Mumbai. 

                  It appears that when he saw a large Taxi stand next to the World Trade Centre he deduced that there must be a small stall hidden somewhere which sells tea and snacks!  

                  Well that may be logical thinking - though I think it is just his keen sense of onion pakoda smell that leads him. Amma ofcourse thought that he   used his morning walk just to reconnoitre the surrounding to ferret out – you got  it right onion pakoda stalls!  

                  Needless to add the kids got hooked to those bhajias and we used to get our weekly fix until we left Mumbai -Thumbing our nose at the rather pretentious Cuffe Parade neighbours.    Come to think of it – this onion pakoda stuff runs in the family!

Appa was always disciplined about his daily exercise.  I guess you need to be so to enjoy the Pakoda every once in a while.

Tagore has the last laugh.(3)

    

    We were then living in an East Bengal refugee colony. If you have an image of a shanty town with dreary houses in your mind, wipe it off. Neat light weight houses in their own garden of plum,pear orange trees, multi coloured and multi sized dahlias and roses and to top it all a gurgling brook behind the houses.This  was how it was.

           Appa suddenly realised that I was not accomplished in the singing department. (Not that I was proficient in any other either )No teachers for Carnatic or Hindustani music . The next door gentleman was teaching Rabindra Sangeet . So Rabindra Sangeet it was.

            We got a harmonium at short notice and I would go next door for my lessons. RS is Bengali. My funny bones would be tickled when Hindi sounding words would be pronounced -sa as sha, va as ba and all others with an o. Feeling heckled the master would ask me to practice at home.

        Now Appa was sure that vocal music should be practiced early in the morning standing in a river or sea. I would be woken up very early. You have to remember here that we follow Delhi longitude time and here we were in the North East where the days already starts early and ends early. Small mercy he didn't ask me to stand in the brook  flowing behind.

   Now for  fun I would use my full vocal powers so that my next door neighbour would realise that I was indeed practicing. All grumblings from the sibling sector was ignored. 

          This went on for almost a year and then I entered class 9.Unlike now , CBSE was upto class 11 and after 11th directly into degree first year. Classes 9 to 11 were a set. 

          Our principal gave a rousing speech about the importance of the years and about avoiding distractions. Here was my weapon. Armed with this I went next door and severed all relations with Tagore.

                Looking back it does seem like an opportunity missed. Now I know of  South Indian girls brought up in Kolkata  who are  proficient in  Carnatic , Hindustani and Rabindra Sangeet. 

                Okay one less headache for my brothers.

Venture into culture.(4)

It is the late 60's . We are still here in the East Bengal refugee colony in Shillong.The debacle of the music classes notwithstanding Appa is down but not out.

       

       Do you know that the NE is completely anglicised and overtly Christian. There were absolutely no Hindu temples for us to visit. However Appa managed an introduction to a Marwari family which has a Krishna shrine on their premises.

        There was one Tamil gentleman working in some defence department who used to have Thursday Satyanarayana Pooja at his home. 

           Both of these were however in the centre of the town whereas we were strategically placed to be near the BSF barracks . However we did manage a visit once to both places.

            Winter was approaching .The parental group suddenly remembered its  Tamil roots. Letters were written to Trichy dates were consulted books were procured. Yes margazhi and Tirupavai. The only drawback was that only 2 of us could read Tamil. Please allow me to lift up my collar. I was a regular reader of ananda vikatan even then , which we would get by post. 

              Small success for the parents as I took to it. All others failing/ falling  on the way.

         Another front was the margazhi kolam. Freezing early morning temperatures and schools closed for the long winter holidays. Appa would wake me up early just to be traditional like Aandal and her gang. He would have a large mug of luke warm water and a hurricane lamp in his hand. Still no road lights there . Electricity introduced in the colony only six months back 

             Putting on artistic airs ,  using rice flour I would draw out some simple kolams everyday. I would get great pleasure watching the passerby stop to stare at the patterns.

       The seed sown so long back has taken root . Now I enjoy  reading Prabhandam like the manor born.

The reading habit.(5)

    

     Yesterday a dear friend had commented that she was sure that it was because of my father that I had got into reading and hence was able to write something. Yes this is 100% true. 

         We were living in Chennai / Madras on Prakasa Mudali street near Sun theatre. Appa was at some undisclosed location along the J &K border. All letters through APO. His letters would always be about helping out Amma, looking after the younger two brothers.However most of his  letters to my elder brother and me would have a list of books to be read during the holidays.(some APO censor would also have got a readymade list for his children)

             Armed with this we would go to Connemara library. Yes you read it right. We were both between the ages 8 to 10..

             The other side of this Prakasam street leads up to what is now Valluvarkottam. Catch the no. 10 bus to Egmore.

           Once at the library some inspection by  higher officials was going on. The  librarian made us into instant reading ambassadors. We were asked to stand near the children's section each with a fairy tale in our hand. Our indignation knew no bounds. Now you know how Matilda (Roald Dahl) must have felt when the librarian did not know her caliber.

                   A year later when we were in a different location ,we discovered Enid Blyton all by our selves. When on a holiday Appa had one look at Enid and pronounced her trash. Why ?because the children in her books say Super instead of Superb.Of course we didn't listen to him.

           As we grew up he would introduce us to Readers digest, PG Wodehouse and a multitude of authors. Always interested in varied subjects he made us into rounded individuals.

              Even today I get books for him from the local library and we enjoy discussing it. . Last month it was the history of the Tamils upto the 6 th century.(Tamil) Today he is reading The Devadasi and The Saint by V. Sriram. The life and times of Bangalore Nagarathnamma.

Dogs and dog lovers.(6)

            

              Yesterday a FB friend posted that dog owners think that their cutie pies are harmless and friendly. This post took me back in time .

            Age 8 ,I go to my neighbour 's house next door to play and the children excitedly announce that their dog has puppies. Naturally I had to see this .            

            Suddenly the mother dog who has been seeing me almost everyday takes away an inch from my calf. 

         

            The doctor calms us. That the dog was just suffering from post natal jitters ,so no injections but do keep an eye on the dog's health was what he said.

      However that  dog died a few days later due to some delivery related complications. My brothers were very sure that biting me had made the dog toxic. They would watch me closely to see whether I had start barking yet. 

           Age 9 .my school gives me a book of tickets to sell. All my neighbours children study in this same school. Where can I sell it. I have a bright idea I would walk home from school and en route enter every house and beg them.

  

           First house just behind the school wall  . I can see people inside .Confidently I open the gate something white and fluffy falls on me . 

            Same leg same spot. Case of the invisible dog. White Pomeranian on white wall. The householders washed my leg with dettol and told me not to worry and wrote a letter to my mother that their dog had been  vaccinated. 

          No I never showed that letter to my mother. Nor did I open my mouth about the incident. What I did every day for the next one week was ,rush home from school change into pavadai . Yes suddenly I wanted to wear only pavadais.

    Inspite of all this at age 13, when my new classmate's mother showed me a just born Tibetan cocker spaniel puppy I fell in love with it. After day 30 she covered it with a hanky and I brought it home in my school blazer pocket.It was a great hit at home .

   Great PGW fans that we were we named him Bertie Wooster and the one that followed was Sally.

55 years too late.(7)

           I had written about going to the Connemara library as children.  Once when the change of books was due my elder brother fell ill. He was adamant that I go. Amma hesitatingly allowed me to go. 

             I caught the 10 no.  bus and got down when the conductor told me it was the Connemara  stop. I could not identify my library. So I crossed over ad took a bus home. Of course there was a lot of shouting  and name throwing. My intelligence was called into question.

              After writing my yesterday's post when I was talking about this my brother  said it wasn't the Connemara .Appa clarified that the Children's library was then on college road DPI campus. Two stops ahead. Now you know what sort of duffer I was.( and am still).Even after going with him a few times I had just tagged along taking nothing in.Now I know 55 years later what went wrong. 

             It was always like that . It was my elder brother who would know all bus routes in the then Madras. Relatives visiting us would be escorted by him to Triplicane and other temples even when he was just 8 or 9. It probably helped that his school was some where in Santhome .

          Even earlier when for a year he was living with our grand parents at Arakkonam he would come to Chennai alone for  the weekends. Of course since Thatha was in the railways some one would look after him during the journey.

             He was the ring leader in all our mischief. He was just. What ever was sneaked out from the kitchen would be distributed equally by him. He had to always be the leader. No opposition was encouraged. We three were just his minions.

           Now my sister in law tells me. You people should have stood up to him, see how he tries to dominate me. 55 years too late I would say.

The idyllic world.(8)

        We are still at the house near Sun theatre. This is where I had been bitten by the next door dog and again by a dog on the way from school. Notwithstanding that, my favourite  memories are of this period.

            We would rush home from school change over from our uniforms and in a twinkling we would be next door to play with our friends. 

             There was absolutely no question of social divide. We were not poor but neither were we rich. Whereas the next door neighbours were a grand old industrial family  with many branches of said family living in two huge houses in the same compound. 

              Their children would play with real hockey sticks while my brothers would make do with Appa's walking stick. We may get new clothes only on birthdays and for Deepavali but no one was counting.They may find it funny that Amma would sew some tear in our clothes but then  it was  just an observation.

             Now these children had a fleet of cars and a battalion of workers at their disposal. Here Amma would give us a strict rotation of duties. One of which was grinding coffee seeds in the hand grinder . One day they were waiting for us to come to play when it was my elder brother's turn to grind. They were so taken up by the novelty of this job that we had more hands working for us for some time.Reminds you of Tom Sawyer ?

             There was a huge compound diagonally opposite called the White House.Ideally we would have liked to play there but were scared out of our pants as there was a tamarind tree with so many spine chilling ghost stories around it. 

              Any way there were only some big boys there who never participated in our games. Some girls would be daring enough to talk to them ,only to be sniggered at by others. See even as very small children we would know something was different about that.

            And then the serpent enters our  garden of Eden.

The serpent has to wait.(9)

      

         My younger brother's comment on my yesterday's post has  revived so many memories that I am just not able to move forward. 

             We had an army orderly called Patole living with us in our building out house .  He would take me and my brothers to school on his cycle , never riding only pushing . He had a famous song which went like  this ..Ek, do, teen and we would shout char man Patole . The song had an English version too. Of course every family needs a song ,otherwise how are they to get back together after getting lost in a mela.

              

      Even earlier Patole would take me to my school St. Columbans at Parry's corner from our home at Fort St. George. Huge British era building, which was actually a converted stable. Floor to ceiling windows ,a toilet with rows upon rows of bucket seats to do your business. We would get up with the sounds of the flag hoisting. Evening six  and we would be there to salute the flag as it was lowered.Then the powers that be decided it was a no families zone. Amma would have it that it was because of our noise and ruckus.

             Back to Sun theatre. Mornings he would drop us , but evenings we would fend for ourselves. My brother Babbu and later my youngest brother and I would come home together. Babbu was always neat as a pin. Starched shirt and shorts. I would always try to push him on the dirt. He would complain to Amma and I would reply ,well I was keeping him away from the road. Never a saint that was me , inspite of getting a good conduct badge for a month.

              Now there were two sisters in my class Chandrika and Indra. Bobbed hair and very smart. Indra would always come first in class ,but Chandrika was more approachable. Chandrika would sometimes ask me to walk home with her. So instead of going through North Boag Road we would go through Dr. Nair Road reach G N Chetty road. I would wave to her at her gate,  house no. 80 and walk on. 

             After the holidays I met Chandrika  at the school gate. I said come let us see which is our new class room and she replied ," no I am now not in your class ,I have been double promoted." I never knew she was that brilliant. The 'old lady' girls would have it that it was because she had bobbed her hair and was kowtowing to the management. I am sure you think otherwise friends. The sisters would always have been brilliant, you know them now as Chandrika Tandon and Indra Nooyi.