One of my favourite
sections in a children’s magazine Tinkle [famous for its character Supandi],
was “it happened to me”, where readers shared some funny experiences of their
lives. Well, I have some instances from my school life which will tickle your
funny bones. After reading them, you might call me dumb, which wouldn’t be
fair: I was not dumb; I just understood and reacted on things a little slower
than others.
When I was in first
grade, my teacher lined us up in group of two, holding our hands and walking
down without any noise. At the very start of my journey, I lost a shoe, but
didn't stop to inform anyone. This was out of the fear of getting scolded. I walked
to the school exit and informed about the loss only to my sister. I went home
in a rickshaw that day.
Another incident of around
the same age: my teacher had asked us to bring fifty rupees for some purpose.
And my parents, for the sake of safety of the money, gave it to the school
maid. Next day when teacher talked of not receiving the money and my classmates
asked about it, I replied that it was given to a particular maid. That maid I
pointed out, disagreed. And it confused me more than anything else in my life
then. She disagreed, I protested. This went on for an hour or two, when another
maid came and brought the money.
There is another
incident of very stupid age. This one though is not at school. I was at my
mother’s place and we were at a temple. I was a kid and used to recognize my
family members only by their clothes. My mother and other women were sitting on
the staircase of the temple I came out of temple and with no one noticing me; I
noticed a woman with black shawl, and I put my hands across her and said ‘Here is your hanky, mummy.’ She
turned and alas! She wasn’t my mother and she was shocked; more so because she
was unmarried.
In class three though I
remember stepping on my English teacher’s feet, by mistake, and with our PT sir
[who was so scary in those days] nearby, I was made to stand in corner for
hardly few seconds, when I started crying in fear and escaped a punishment of
any sort.
One of my teachers in
class four commented on seeing my notebook for the first time, ‘How did you get
90% in class three? Students of my class scoring 40-50% have writing as bad as
you.’ After few months, she took my notebook to dictate work from my notebook
in another class, and appreciated me for neat handwriting in my examinations.
Perhaps then I realized how strange this world was.
In class four only, during
examination days, I was made to sit with a girl of class three. I was always so
tensed about exams that I didn’t notice that she used to steal my stationery.
Even if I realized, I didn’t argue because I was not sure if that pencil or
rubber or whatever was actually mine. I bought new pencil colours for my
drawing exam, and when I turned back, I knew she stole them and transferred
them from my pencil box to hers.. But, I didn’t say a word. I submitted my
drawing paper without colouring it, even after being offered colours by the
same girl. In the rest of my exams, I stopped bringing a pencil box and put all
stationery in my pocket.
There are more memories, and more
incidents, but let that be kept for another day.
