Reading Nithya’s “going back in time-“ brought on an avalanche of memories…only them being much beyond fifteen years…perhaps 25 or more??
While Nithya’s memories had a very picturesque locale, my memories were set in a small flat in Ghatkopar- it was a housing society and most of my neighbours were Tamilians …
After coming back from school which was a stones throw away from our building, we also went down to play “paandi”- the stone each of us used were precious and we vied over one another as to whose was most soft and “lucky”…how we used to ask our eyes turned skywards as we precariously put our foot on the squares:”amiright?”…we were not supposed to step on the margins…I used to keep my stone over the regulator box of the fan- wonder why…my brother wanted it, and I wouldn’t give it to him!
Yup and running around in shimmies!…also liked to wear blouse ove the school pinafore like half skirt and blouse!
And then shrieking “dabbiceprise” when the denner spies a hiding player- still don’t know what that decodes to- when we played hide and seek…
And then I remember we calling out “cheetangoli” when we wanted to express disgust…no idea what it meant…
I loved wearing “pattu paavadai”- kunjalam…and when I wore amma’s old sari to play, I was very disappointed with my short hair- I staunchly believed that sari went well only with long hair…I would tie a towel over my hair…but was still not very happy with the outcome…
Then ‘poison medicine’- similar to “lock and key”, I guess- land and water, “sangli”- the chain game- each player joins hands with the denner and sets out to catch the rest of the players…
By 6.30. p.m- I had to rush back home- the unspoken rule was that I should be back before amma called out for me…after freshening up, was supposed to say my shlokas sitting under the little shelf (in the kitchen) holding the little photos of assorted Gods…followed by the dreaded Tables! And amma would be rolling out perfectly round chapattis from under her belan magically- yeah, for a long time thought it was nothing short of magic…and suddenly she would pounce on me if I uttered a wayward number…
After that was homework time- another dreaded routine …
Hated lunch time, my friend Geeta and Sunita would be waiting for me as I tried to swallow “Ashtachoornam” + ghee + rice…literally struggling to keep them down my gullet…and amma would tightly tie my hair to a little ponytail on the side…I remember I could not wait to grow my hair…amma used to say that I should keep them short until the eighth standard, only then it would grow long and thick…how I waited to reach the eighth standard…well, my hair did grow long and thick later but alas they lasted only until I joined the college hostel- once my hair was under my care- they disappeared…amma used to oil them regularly…and I was terrified of the days she announced- that I was to call her when it was time to wash my hair- she would pour huge mugfuls over my hair..and I would be spluttering and struggling for breath! I was not supposed to cry… But I guess my hair thrived under her care and shrivelled away when I took charge…Even today, amma sighs in despair when she sees the pathetic state of my hair today…I am a blot on the family legacy of long , thick , dark tresses- amma sorrowfully says may be I took after my father’s family in this aspect…
1 comment:
Brought back memories of my long hair wishes....Many an early childhood year was passed with a shaven head :). Usually because I'd managed to fall sick and parents pledged my hair to God, to help me get well. My opinion was never sought. After age 6 or so, this stopped....My hair too was nice and thick until about hight school. After that, under my own care, it went downhill.
Nice to read this blog.
Priya.
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