Skip to main content

Summer Memories




During my childhood summer vacation was a whole long tedious period of two full months.  More than a month would go burning in the anxiety about the annual exam results.  The system was not at all student-friendly in those days.  During the ten months at school the students would be made to memorise a whole lot of things and caned mercilessly if their memory failed.  The evaluation process of exams was as severe as the caning.  The teachers were more eager to find out the mistakes in the answer sheets unlike their counterparts today (which includes me too) who go out of their way to reward whatever happens to be right in answer sheets.  Passing exams was quite tough in those days.  It appeared that the only purpose of exams in those days was to make as many students as possible fail. 

The only thing that made me forget the anxiety about the ‘result’ was the fairly long visit to all the maternal uncles some distance away.  I loved the bus journey in those days.  I was sorry that the journey was short: ten kilometres by one bus and another ten by another.  The first ten was an adventure.  The road was very narrow and never suffered any maintenance of any sort.  The bus would crawl on and take about an hour to reach the destination.  Since journey by bus was only an annual affair, that ride was a dream come true.

Climbing up and down the mountain on which my uncles lived was another adventure.  It was a trek in fact.  The path wound up and down the mountain among rubber trees or tapioca plants or massive granite rocks.  Then there were the mango trees all full of fruits.  We plucked them and ate to our hearts’ content.  We played hide and seek on the mountain.  A lot of uncles means a lot of cousins.  Cousins are usually fun.  Uncles become tolerant parents when nephews and nieces are visiting.  So our visit was an added boon for the cousins. Finally when we had to take leave of each other we would struggle to hold back our tears.  The anxiety about the impending doom called ‘result’ helped to make the good bye less painful.

I never failed in any class.  Running the risk of sounding boastful, I was one of the toppers in the class.  Yet the fear of ‘result’ haunted me like a vindictive ghost every year.  Such was the system.  You could never predict your destiny which depended on the caprices of many elders.

As a man rushing toward the honourable age of ‘senior citizen’ I feel very humbled to say that I have never remembered my childhood as a happy period.  A lot of boring lessons at school and then even more boring Sunday school classes, all taught by people who looked sterner than the saints whose pictures or statues adorned the church walls and alcoves.  Worse, I was ill-fated to live with a lot of such people for the most part of my life.  No wonder I lost my faith in religion and religious people and the summer vacation was no joyful affair with all these saintly people around. 

PS. Written for Indispire Edition 169: #vacationmemories


Comments

  1. This post reminded me of my visit to my grandfather's tea estate. I won't as well term my childhood memories as the best with the constant pressure of studies which continues even up till now.

    But nostalgia give a sense of pleasure quite different from other forms

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nostalgia is peculiar. It transforms even pain into pleasure sometimes.

      Delete
  2. Nice read,by the way, you were one of the toppers that's why fear of result used to haunt you...the last bench students never have this fear...bcs they dont care.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's quite true. I remember how some of my classmates never bothered even when they were detained.

      Delete
  3. I too have many fond memories of my visits to my maternal uncles' house during summer vacations.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pranita a perverted genius

Bulldozer begins its work at Sawan Pranita was a perverted genius. She had Machiavelli’s brain, Octavian’s relentlessness, and Levin’s intellectual calibre. She could have worked wonders if she wanted. She could have created a beautiful world around her. She had the potential. Yet she chose to be a ruthless exterminator. She came to Sawan Public School just to kill it. A religious cult called Radha Soami Satsang Beas [RSSB] had taken over the school from its owner who had never visited the school for over 20 years. This owner, a prominent entrepreneur with a gargantuan ego, had come to the conclusion that the morality of the school’s staff was deviating from the wavelengths determined by him. Moreover, his one foot was inching towards the grave. I was also told that there were some domestic noises which were grating against his patriarchal sensibilities. One holy solution for all these was to hand over the school and its enormous campus (nearly 20 acres of land on the outskirts

Randeep the melody

Many people in this pic have made their presence in this A2Z series A phone call came from an unknown number the other day. “Is it okay to talk to you now, Sir?” The caller asked. The typical start of a conversation by an influencer. “What’s it about?” My usual response looking forward to something like: “I am so-and-so from such-and-such business firm…” And I would cut the call. But there was a surprise this time. “I am Randeep…” I recognised him instantly. His voice rang like a gentle music in my heart. Randeep was a student from the last class 12 batch of Sawan. One of my favourites. He is unforgettable. Both Maggie and I taught him at Sawan where he was a student from class 4 to 12. Nine years in a residential school create deep bonds between people, even between staff and students. Randeep was an ideal student. Good at everything yet very humble and spontaneous. He was a top sportsman and a prefect with eminent leadership. He had certain peculiar problems with academics. Ans

Queen of Religion

She looked like Queen Victoria in the latter’s youth but with a snow-white head. She was slim, fair and graceful. She always smiled but the smile had no life. Someone on the campus described it as a “plastic smile.” She was charming by physical appearance. Soon all of us on the Sawan school campus would realise how deceptive appearances were. Queen took over the administration of Sawan school on behalf of her religious cult RSSB [Radha Soami Satsang Beas]. A lot was said about RSSB in the previous post. Its godman Gurinder Singh Dhillon is now 70 years old. I don’t know whether age has mellowed his lust for land and wealth. Even at the age of 64, he was embroiled in a financial scam that led to the fall of two colossal business enterprises, Fortis Healthcare and Religare finance. That was just a couple of years after he had succeeded in making Sawan school vanish without a trace from Delhi which he did for the sake of adding the school’s twenty-odd acres of land to his existing hun

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Sanjay and other loyalists

AI-generated illustration Some people, especially those in politics, behave as if they are too great to have any contact with the ordinary folk. And they can get on with whoever comes to power on top irrespective of their ideologies and principles. Sanjay was one such person. He occupied some high places in Sawan school [see previous posts, especially P and Q ] merely because he knew how to play his cards more dexterously than ordinary politicians. Whoever came as principal, Sanjay would be there in the elite circle. He seemed to hold most people in contempt. His respect was reserved for the gentry. I belonged to the margins of Sawan society, in Sanjay’s assessment. So we hardly talked to each other. Looking back, I find it quite ludicrous to realise that Sanjay and I lived on the same campus 24x7 for a decade and a half without ever talking to each other except for official purposes.      Towards the end of our coexistence, Sawan had become a veritable hell. Power supply to the