45 minutes of freedom
45 minutes of freedom daily. Shout as loud as your vocal chord permits, jump on benches till you get hurt, scribble on the black board what ever you want, play the game you wish to – in all do what ever you want! The 45 minutes of freedom was the lunch break that we used to get as school kids. I cannot but resist mentioning about some little rascals who used to emerge during this period and whose energies would be usually suppressed for the rest of the day.
Let’s start with the studious Dhakshyani who made sure that she latches on to some study book during this 45 minute period in full view of other students. Till today I have no clue as to what made her write in the answer sheet that man has “three pairs of eyes”. If she was referring to the original Dakshayani’s husband Lord Shiva, even he has the mythical three eyes, not three pairs. Which organ of the human body is in three pairs?
The owl eyed Madhu comes next. He worked in isolation conducting raids (read arson and looting) on the schools bags of his classmates. If nothing was worth looting he would tear off the latest home assignments and later the victim would be thrashed by the teacher for not completing the assignment. He was the first anti-social element I have come across in my life. It took me a few months to realize why my pencils used to disappear frequently and I was branded at home as a person who could not take care of his belongings. Very recently this character was spotted emptying his trash on the center of the road and I was not surprised at his behavior!
The generous Koushik is next. Not many used to get any change to buy eatables from the vendors outside the school. The ones who could “afford” were momentary heroes. The share that you may get varies from one-eighth of the sour orange to a half of deluxe nutrine green cover wrapped hard candy broken using stones lying on the road! What makes my friend Koushik mentionable here is that he graduated from getting currency change to notes. Further, his generosity is worth mentioning. He raised the share that his pals got from one-eighth of a fruit to one full fruit! Full moon was clearly visible on the face of his accomplices’.
The villainous Anand comes at the last. He was the self appointed police (Taliban style) of the class. The physical training teacher relished trashing a few helpless kids every afternoon between his lunch and siesta. The villain would supply him a secret note scribbled with the names of the offenders. The offence is most often, to play inside the class room (where else can the kids play hide and seek!). The offenders would be lined-up and thrashed in public (my school is very much in Bangalore, not in Afghanistan and the incident did not happen in the medieval period). The villain enjoyed this act of the teacher reminiscent of royals watching the gladiators fight.
More than a decade has passed hence; Koushik is a doctor, Madhu a stock broker, Anand an automobile engineer, Dhakshayani a home maker.
Let’s start with the studious Dhakshyani who made sure that she latches on to some study book during this 45 minute period in full view of other students. Till today I have no clue as to what made her write in the answer sheet that man has “three pairs of eyes”. If she was referring to the original Dakshayani’s husband Lord Shiva, even he has the mythical three eyes, not three pairs. Which organ of the human body is in three pairs?
The owl eyed Madhu comes next. He worked in isolation conducting raids (read arson and looting) on the schools bags of his classmates. If nothing was worth looting he would tear off the latest home assignments and later the victim would be thrashed by the teacher for not completing the assignment. He was the first anti-social element I have come across in my life. It took me a few months to realize why my pencils used to disappear frequently and I was branded at home as a person who could not take care of his belongings. Very recently this character was spotted emptying his trash on the center of the road and I was not surprised at his behavior!
The generous Koushik is next. Not many used to get any change to buy eatables from the vendors outside the school. The ones who could “afford” were momentary heroes. The share that you may get varies from one-eighth of the sour orange to a half of deluxe nutrine green cover wrapped hard candy broken using stones lying on the road! What makes my friend Koushik mentionable here is that he graduated from getting currency change to notes. Further, his generosity is worth mentioning. He raised the share that his pals got from one-eighth of a fruit to one full fruit! Full moon was clearly visible on the face of his accomplices’.
The villainous Anand comes at the last. He was the self appointed police (Taliban style) of the class. The physical training teacher relished trashing a few helpless kids every afternoon between his lunch and siesta. The villain would supply him a secret note scribbled with the names of the offenders. The offence is most often, to play inside the class room (where else can the kids play hide and seek!). The offenders would be lined-up and thrashed in public (my school is very much in Bangalore, not in Afghanistan and the incident did not happen in the medieval period). The villain enjoyed this act of the teacher reminiscent of royals watching the gladiators fight.
More than a decade has passed hence; Koushik is a doctor, Madhu a stock broker, Anand an automobile engineer, Dhakshayani a home maker.
posted by Vivek at
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
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