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I must say that for a man of my ripe age I have had few surprises in my life. That was because I was a loner, not much of a mixer, and quite a cynic.
But there have been quite a few unexpected ones:
When we were in our School Final in 1957 in our Village School, Muthukur, there was this lad in our class, VN. He was from a neighboring village, commuting daily by walk to and from our school. The tradition those days was that such students took up digs in Muthukur for a month before the Annual Exams, a single room with a nominal rent and food added at an extra cost. This was during the Preparation Holidays when the midnight oil was furiously burnt and lessons mugged up like nobody's business.
VN called me aside a week before our Final Exams and asked me if I had finished my 'preparation' and I said, yes, except in Math and Telugu in which I was no good and didn't care to spend useless time on.
VN then requested me to come to his room every day for an hour and do 'combined studies' with him in English which was his bugbear. I readily accepted because he was a nice guy and also the pehelwan of the class. On the day before our English Exam, he asked me about his prospects in the English paper and I said:
"You will score no less than 60%"
Upon which he was profoundly touched and muttered some prayer to the heavens and we left.
The day the results were announced was a day of celebration for all of us...the entire class passed (my HM Father weeded out a couple of weak students in the so-called Pass-Up Exam and they were asked to repeat next year). And there were groups of students in every street corner, shops, under trees, in the soda-shop, celebrating and discussing future plans...most of them planning to apply for clerical posts via the Employment Exchange.
For me it was a solemn day because I was sure to be shunted to College for higher studies and there was no college in Muthukur...which meant leaving home, perhaps for good.
Then I saw VN beckoning me from outside our front gate. I went out and he said he got 64% in English!!!
And he led me by my hand and took me to our school's play-ground and as soon as we reached a quiet corner, he closed my eyes tight with his firm left hand and asked me to open my mouth, which I did. And suddenly there was a fistful of sugar in my mouth pushed in by VN who released me and was laughing kindly. Apparently he had bought and stored a pocketful of sugar from the market and thrust it in my mouth.
It took me by such a surprise that I choked, sneezed sugar through my nose, eyes became red and I started spewing sugar all over and cried buckets...I was so puny then. VN got scared and ran into the town and within a few minutes brought a couple of escorts to take me to the hospital...but by then I recovered somewhat.
Apparently, that prayer to heavens the day before the exam was followed by a vow that he would 'fill my mouth with sugar' if my words came true...an idiomatic expression that he took literally.
That was as near I got to dying....till now.
*********************************************************************************************************
After a year, I went to Vizagh to pursue my B. Sc. (Hons) at AU, staying at my MD Uncle's place.
At that time my Grannie was in charge of the kitchen of the household...the Autocrat of the Dining Floor:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2009/11/autocrat-of-dining-floor.html
Those days fresh vegetable vendors, mostly ladies, carrying baskets full of assorted vegetables on their heads used to visit every street and halt before every house and shout:
"Vankayalu, Bendakayalu, Beerakayalu, Gongura..."
all their ware by name to attract attention of the housewives.
Apparently that day my Grannie woke up late and missed the itinerant vendors and was alarmed and tensed up. And she called me and told me what happened. I then offered to run up to the Poorna Market (a mile from our Maharanipet home) and fetch some vegetables.
http://www.uppercrustindia.com/oldsite/15crust/fifteen/season13.htm
And she was so pleased with me that she blew a kiss and brought out a bag and gave me a Rs 2 Note (extinct nowadays). I then ran as fast as I could and brought a bagful of vegetables and handed them to her. And when she looked inside the bag she was as pleased as Punch and blessed me and praised my business acumen since the quantity I got was more than double she expected to get (from the daily vendors) and the quality was just superb.
I was pleased for the first time in my life that I could satisfy a well-known tyrant...although I didn't pick nor bargain...I just happened perhaps to be the Early Bird in the Market (Boni) to whom everyone bestows plentiful with a prayer that the young one's magic touch may beget a lucky day.
Next morning I was rudely woken up by my Grannie half an hour before time and when I came out, I discovered 4 bags in her hand:
"When I showed off the vegetables that my grandson got from the Poorna Market for just Rs 2, Mrs Laxmi, our left door neighbor, Mrs Vani, front door neighbor, and Mrs Rani, right door neighbor were so impressed that they gave me Rs 2 and a bag each...."
"Wait...wait...wait...Grannie, I have my Calculus Home Work to do urgently...I can hear the vending ladies' cries outside...I am here for studies and not for shopping"
"Fie on you! What will they all say?"
"They can send their own children or husbands to the blessed Poorna Market...not me...ask them to get lost!"
And she cursed me for loss of face...
There comes a moment in every life when you have to put your foot down squarely if you want to avoid nasty surprises...a lesson I learned that morning...and promptly forgot...
=========================================================================
I must say that for a man of my ripe age I have had few surprises in my life. That was because I was a loner, not much of a mixer, and quite a cynic.
But there have been quite a few unexpected ones:
When we were in our School Final in 1957 in our Village School, Muthukur, there was this lad in our class, VN. He was from a neighboring village, commuting daily by walk to and from our school. The tradition those days was that such students took up digs in Muthukur for a month before the Annual Exams, a single room with a nominal rent and food added at an extra cost. This was during the Preparation Holidays when the midnight oil was furiously burnt and lessons mugged up like nobody's business.
VN called me aside a week before our Final Exams and asked me if I had finished my 'preparation' and I said, yes, except in Math and Telugu in which I was no good and didn't care to spend useless time on.
VN then requested me to come to his room every day for an hour and do 'combined studies' with him in English which was his bugbear. I readily accepted because he was a nice guy and also the pehelwan of the class. On the day before our English Exam, he asked me about his prospects in the English paper and I said:
"You will score no less than 60%"
Upon which he was profoundly touched and muttered some prayer to the heavens and we left.
The day the results were announced was a day of celebration for all of us...the entire class passed (my HM Father weeded out a couple of weak students in the so-called Pass-Up Exam and they were asked to repeat next year). And there were groups of students in every street corner, shops, under trees, in the soda-shop, celebrating and discussing future plans...most of them planning to apply for clerical posts via the Employment Exchange.
For me it was a solemn day because I was sure to be shunted to College for higher studies and there was no college in Muthukur...which meant leaving home, perhaps for good.
Then I saw VN beckoning me from outside our front gate. I went out and he said he got 64% in English!!!
And he led me by my hand and took me to our school's play-ground and as soon as we reached a quiet corner, he closed my eyes tight with his firm left hand and asked me to open my mouth, which I did. And suddenly there was a fistful of sugar in my mouth pushed in by VN who released me and was laughing kindly. Apparently he had bought and stored a pocketful of sugar from the market and thrust it in my mouth.
It took me by such a surprise that I choked, sneezed sugar through my nose, eyes became red and I started spewing sugar all over and cried buckets...I was so puny then. VN got scared and ran into the town and within a few minutes brought a couple of escorts to take me to the hospital...but by then I recovered somewhat.
Apparently, that prayer to heavens the day before the exam was followed by a vow that he would 'fill my mouth with sugar' if my words came true...an idiomatic expression that he took literally.
That was as near I got to dying....till now.
*********************************************************************************************************
After a year, I went to Vizagh to pursue my B. Sc. (Hons) at AU, staying at my MD Uncle's place.
At that time my Grannie was in charge of the kitchen of the household...the Autocrat of the Dining Floor:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2009/11/autocrat-of-dining-floor.html
Those days fresh vegetable vendors, mostly ladies, carrying baskets full of assorted vegetables on their heads used to visit every street and halt before every house and shout:
"Vankayalu, Bendakayalu, Beerakayalu, Gongura..."
all their ware by name to attract attention of the housewives.
Apparently that day my Grannie woke up late and missed the itinerant vendors and was alarmed and tensed up. And she called me and told me what happened. I then offered to run up to the Poorna Market (a mile from our Maharanipet home) and fetch some vegetables.
http://www.uppercrustindia.com/oldsite/15crust/fifteen/season13.htm
And she was so pleased with me that she blew a kiss and brought out a bag and gave me a Rs 2 Note (extinct nowadays). I then ran as fast as I could and brought a bagful of vegetables and handed them to her. And when she looked inside the bag she was as pleased as Punch and blessed me and praised my business acumen since the quantity I got was more than double she expected to get (from the daily vendors) and the quality was just superb.
I was pleased for the first time in my life that I could satisfy a well-known tyrant...although I didn't pick nor bargain...I just happened perhaps to be the Early Bird in the Market (Boni) to whom everyone bestows plentiful with a prayer that the young one's magic touch may beget a lucky day.
Next morning I was rudely woken up by my Grannie half an hour before time and when I came out, I discovered 4 bags in her hand:
"When I showed off the vegetables that my grandson got from the Poorna Market for just Rs 2, Mrs Laxmi, our left door neighbor, Mrs Vani, front door neighbor, and Mrs Rani, right door neighbor were so impressed that they gave me Rs 2 and a bag each...."
"Wait...wait...wait...Grannie, I have my Calculus Home Work to do urgently...I can hear the vending ladies' cries outside...I am here for studies and not for shopping"
"Fie on you! What will they all say?"
"They can send their own children or husbands to the blessed Poorna Market...not me...ask them to get lost!"
And she cursed me for loss of face...
There comes a moment in every life when you have to put your foot down squarely if you want to avoid nasty surprises...a lesson I learned that morning...and promptly forgot...
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