Kal Rahe Yah Na Rahe Kal,Pal Yaad Aaayenge Yeh Pal

Today as I sit to blog and am doing this during the working hours as I am in no mood to work. More so got lot many calls and mail replies from my school days friends and my college mates as the New Year dawned. Even to the extent that one called while partying and said even though she had seen a fair bit of world and had interacted with so many people at work and in social life, there was a different spark with those with whom she had spent her school and college days. So I feel in this 25 years of my existence (yah phir dhaarti pe bhoj),these few moments make me nostalgic and gives a kick in the normal so called city life with dosages of modernism and fast paced life. Since this blog is for all my schoolmates and for a small city “Rourkela”, the steel city in the eastern part of India.

When we were back from school in the evening, it used to be street cricket in the neat lanes. The township is well planned and is divided into sectors and the streets were pretty broad to showcase our cricketing skills. We always had friends to play aais-paais (I Spy) and pitthoo anytime. We desperately waited for 'yeh jo hai jindagi', 'chitrahaar',' vikram-baitaal' and my favourite was “Malgudi Days”,even today I don’t miss the episodes in POGO,they are so fulfilling. I was in my standard twelve when with great difficulty and in absence of my parents or when there was none in the neighbour’s house we used to see “Bold and Beautiful” and feel we belonged to the western world.

My father being a thorough and fundu mechanical engineer true to his class of IIT’an used to travel once in a year to other steel plants on assignments both in India and in Europe/UK, though the frequency was less for Europe/UK like once in 5 years. So then bisleris were not sold in the trains and when I used to go to stations to drop him, I always had a doubt what if the train leaves when he gets down to fill up the water bottle. I wondered how it feels when someone sits and flies in an airplane and used to ask him many questions.

Holis & Diwalis meant mostly hand-made pakwaans and sweets and my maa and neighbours aunties sought each other’s help while preparing them. My teachers were not worried of our mummys and papas while slapping/beating us,but for your information I was never naughty. We were exchanging comics and stamps and chacha-chaudaris and billus were our heroes. I had a stock of “Hardy Boys”,”Nancy Drew”,”Enid Blyton” and even to this day I have preserved them in my house in my room’s rack. We had one movie every Sunday evening on television. When we had ten rupees in our pockets we used to become the talk of the school when we marched towards the school canteen. When the books used by my brother were passed on to me as ICSE board never changed the syllabus drastically to go for new ones. When “chelpark” and “natraj” were encouraged against “reynolds” as parents used to say using ink pen improves handwriting.

The first rain meant getting drenched and playing in water and mud and making 'kaagaj ki kishtis' and the best part was declaration of leave from school as “Rainy Day”. Even if there were no mobiles (you all remainconnected now as you have done that since we separated), friends used to reach at the playground at sharp 5PM to play football in the rain.

The list is endless. I have seen a fair bit of the world by now and to me those were and those are “The Best Days of my Life”.

On a serious note I would like to summarise it as we were using our hearts more than our brains,even for scientifically brainy activities like 'thinking' and 'deciding'. But became a bit serious when we reached standard twelve and wanted to make to the best of schools in engineering/medical/commerce. I have fulfilled a part of it till now and as they say the thirst continues so is mine and want to do something else now.

We were crying and laughing more often, more openly and more sincerely. We were enjoying our present more than worrying about our future. We being emotional were not synonymous to being weak as it is today, males do cry and cry loud and what if they don’t display it.Life was a passenger's sleeper giving enough time and opportunity to enjoy the sceneries from its open and transparent glass windows instead of some crowded shopping mall with loads of people each taking pride in worldly pleasures and enjoying the “Moh and Maya” the world throws for each swipe of a card or a cheque.

I really miss you all.

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