Bubbles of Nostalgia

Somehow I became very nostalgic last night. My past popped up in my head like bubbles. I had a very humble beginning. We were three brothers; our Dad was an engineer in the Railways earning quite a good salary in those days. But he had the responsibility of looking after his four brothers and two sisters, who were still unsettled in life. So, it was tough life for us. But to be frank, we never felt the need for more, we were completely content. May be it was because we were imbibed with the quality of never to compare with others. We were content with what we had.

We had a system of cyclic use of our clothes. My elder brother, when he out-grows his dresses will pass them to me and mine to my younger. So, my younger brother never could wear new clothes. But one Pongal, we decided that he be given new clothes. I still remember that pongal day, when he wore his new clothes, early in the morning and walked out to show off to his friends. The pride in his face brought immense happiness in all of us. In that process and in that young age we did not realize that our parents never had new clothes for festivals.

On Kanuma day, I and my younger would run to the butcher about a mile away to buy mutton for fifty paise. I don’t remember how much we could get for fifty paise in those days. But that, with a lot of stew made a heavenly feast for all of us and our festival was complete. But in that process, I don’t remember if my parents had their share.

We always looked forward to the visit of our rich maternal uncle, because, when he left he would give us three rupees for three of us. And when he left, we hand over that amount to my mom, who in turn would give us two annas. We jump in joy and rush to the nearest kirana to buy peppermints, hard jaggery jeedies and orange carpel shaped sweets. That was esthetic.

Then I was selected to join Sainik School. How I was selected would in itself make a complete article, so I was selected to join the best school that we can think of. I was on cloud ninety-nine mainly because I was treated as a special person. Getting admitted to Sainik School means I was a very bright boy. All purchases as required by the school were made, including the black trunk, shoes and the like, but we did not understand what was meant by khaki trousers with ‘turn-ups’. We made enquiries all round but no one had a clue. Finally, one tailor suggested that it might mean those buttoned belt loops and that was it. But it was later that I knew that ‘turn-ups meant that the bottom of the trousers to be folded up and ironed.

The D-day has arrived, 9^th January 1968. It was the most dramatic day in my life. It was a tearful farewell; everyone including my brothers had tears in their eyes. But I was happy; remember I was on cloud ninety nine. We reached school, and my dad asked me stay out and went in the office for the procedures. He was taking a very long time. I could see many parents getting their wards admitted and come out. But my dad had some problem. He walked out of the office a very worried man. I had never seen him being so tense. “Come” he said and got me on to a waiting cycle rickshaw back to our home in Vizianagaram. I was too scared and confused to ask him what was going on. Or maybe I was too glad to go back home.

Back home, I was greeted happily by my surprised Mom and brothers. Mom and dad were having intense discussions. That was when I came to know what the problem was. My Dad being a railway employee and the school scholarship was computed by his basic salary. My dad’s basic was in excess of one rupee to cross the limit of full scholarship. Now he had to pay one hundred rupees per month as fees. His salary then was Rs.350/- per month and to pay one hundred to one son was something they could not afford. After a long and emotional discussion they turned to me for the final word, as if my decision was going to be final. Cloud ninety-nine burst. I fell flat on the ground.

“I’ll not go, I will stay here and study with my brothers” I said.

There was a long silence. My younger brother poked me to signal that everything was over and we shall go out and play.

“No” said my dad. “It would be the biggest mistake in my life if I deny you this opportunity, you shall be admitted tomorrow.”

That was it; I was admitted on 10^th January 1968. Imagine, what it would have been if my parents did not sacrifice so much for me. I can feel a lump in my throat as I write this fighting back tears. What can I do to repay in their time of need?

I am sure many of you might have faced such dilemmas in life and the decision taken then would change your world. I just cannot think of what I would have been if I did not join Sainik School. I would have been better or worst, is not the point, but my life would have have been completely different without such wonderful Saikorians.