When did the Clock Tick?

It feels like yesterday.

It was raining. The torrential monsoon came ripping through the clouds splattering on the earth with a rhythmic thud. I ran to check whether my jak leaf was still intact. I had placed the leaf over that small mount of earth under which that soil bug had hidden itself. ‘That soil bug.’ Actually, I don’t know its name. We call it Kuzhiyaana – which literally translates to ‘elephant in the pit’. And for all I know, I believed that it really was an elephant, relegated to live under the soil, due to its stunted growth!

Our little minds yearned to protect the Kuzhiyaana, lest it will die in the rain! Jak leaf was the make shift shelter to protect those ‘baby elephants.’

We used to take bets, incessantly, insanely, as to which pit will have the elephant inside. Needed precision to the T, speculation, inspection, earthiness and what not! The more the number of elephants collected, greater the hero one became -to draw a comparison – like a successful stock broker! We kept those fellows in the middle of our crouched small palm, and put them back on to the soil – to watch them dig into the earth and vanish in no time. Only the mount remained.

Coconut leaf was the best one could get hold of to play with during vacation! Now, it was just the raw material out of which came a whole gamut of products – wrist watch, snake, clarinet, spectacles, spoons, stars, parrots, wind mills, necklaces, shapes of crackers and the lot. How to fell a coconut leaf was the greatest problem we had to solve. Any other form of toy was unheard of. If a parent returned from ‘foreign’ the girl will bring something to show off in the class. And the rest would go ga gag a. Those fanciful girly toys were right out of our dream world and something we would let our fancy take over and dream about until the next exams were round the corner.

Getting married was a great mystery to solve. Watching umpteen numbers of weddings in the family, one soon wanted to mimic the act of getting married. The make- up, the jewellery, the feast! For me the most gorgeous act in the whole ritual was the exchange of garlands! Man! That was the most incredible thing I so hopelessly wanted to put around my neck – snatch it from the couple, put around my neck and take a picture! It had a nice shiny, glossy cover to protect the flowers. Well, talking of late 70s!

So, my playmate and I (she was a few years older to me) decided to get married. The ritual was only to exchange garlands. My penchant for garlands she understood probably. We were about to get ‘married.’ Then came the anticlimax. Her worldly-wise attitude and the comparative advantage due to sheer seniority by two years, brought out the crudest truth. “When we exchange garlands, you get pregnant.” Now, the last thing we wanted the public to know was that we got ‘married’ and one is pregnant due to the infallible, irreversible act of exchange of garlands. ! Sacrilege it would mean and shame on families – we thought. Even in our small minds, we did not want to bring ignominy to our families! I must have been about 6 years, and she, about 8 years! So we postponed getting married at that time.

And it never happened between us, until many years later, I realised the heaviness of that garland around my neck and my life to follow.

Treasure seek was the next best alternative to coconut leaves. Had a bizarre hobby of collecting stones of jewellery –fallen, found, thrown away, etc. This was a girl’s thing. At one time I had over 50 small sized stones in my collection! Those were most secretly kept, wrapped in 4-5 small coloured sheets of paper and hidden under the clothes, and only shared with whoever mattered, on a ‘need-to-know' basis. They meant treasure, you know!?

The book exhibition at the primary school was the annual event that I so enthusiastically looked forward to. All kinds of books – that open with music inside, and shapes popping out etc. It meant the world for me to steer through the collection and finally make an informed choice as to which one I wanted to own! Believe me, I still have those, and treasure them ... my priced possessions...

Once in a while, a break from chores meant, visiting an uncle who just lived 3 km away or even less with a kilo of red grapes (well, grapes aren't red really, we were colour- blind in childhood)! Holidays were unheard of!

Mostly spent my early childhood thinking that my mother is probably Hitler Incarnate, only to learn years later that she is the best thing that EVER happened to me...and that for all children at one time, their Mothers are Hitlers in Manifest.

Tooth extractions were the most horrendous things I did ; at home... string and pull....let me not get there!

I lived in a small world. Now looking back, its smallness was also its largeness and richness. Growing up did not seem fast enough... The green and white of the school uniform was the most prized identity. The national anthem was the most soulful music.

I lived in a world, where I hardly knew what it meant to be different.

And now, live in a world, which only shows me the difference.

When did the clock tick away so fast?