Monday, July 7, 2014

MEMORIES FLOODING IN....!!!

            Was at Phoenix Market City with friends yesterday for an important ‘purpose’ (Purpose is highlighted because we middle – class guys usually go to malls primarily to kill time, not to buy something) The God of Cricket, Sachin Tendulkar, was going to play the last ever cricket match of his life time and there was the plausibility of scoring his first ever hundred at Lord’s. To add more grandeur to the occasion, he was captaining the side MCC (Marylbourne Cricket Club) and there were so many other living legends of cricket who were also taking part in this historical match like Rahul Dravid, Adam Gilchrist, Muthiah Muralidaran, Shane Warne, Brett Lee, Shaun Pollock, Brian Lara and many others. We were forced to go out somewhere to witness the game as the required channel was not subscribed in our hostel television.

            There was no certainty on whether the match would be telecast live at the mall. Yet, it was our only hope as we are all Sachinians, mad to do even criminal actions to see him one more time again. Manimaran and Arjun were also bursting with high blood pressure till we reached the food court at the third floor. Oh, wow!!!! There it was going on. But then, there was this embarrassment of sitting idle for about five hours, when people around you were gulping whatever they found nearby. ‘Forget it, guys’, Manimaran told, ’We don’t need food while worshipping God.’ So, we took three convenient seats and started watching the Gentleman’s Game, literally, of late. Rest of the World, shepherded by Shane Warne, batted first and scored a healthy 293. It was really blissful and ecstatic to watch Sachin run around the field vying for the ball like a child. He was enjoying his game and so were we on seeing him. So now, it was the turn of the Little Maestro to step in and deliver the goods for his side, rather, for the whole fraternity of cricket. There he was, padded up with his usual gesture of facing the almighty over the horizon before facing the first delivery. The match was going on well, with the master at full flow. He cut, dove pulled and flicked the opposition bowlers at will. When it was already raining runs, nature interrupted with the shower; Match was put to halt. So, we had no other option but to stick on to our routine of roaming around the various shops without any slightest aim of purchasing something.

            When we wandered around the gigantic air – conditioned heaven, there were things that made me poignant. There were toddlers and infants in the FunCity, playing virtual games. There were rich, ‘I don’t dare to care’ kind of people, who had come there simply to waste money by buying bucket popcorns and crushers in KFC, which, in fair terms, could easily satisfy the hunger and thirst of about 100 poor families. There were even some 60+ veterans trying out pizzas and burgers. This made me rewind to my childhood and neighborhood of those times.

            As I had already mentioned in some other post, I hadn’t had the so – called privilege of being immersed in these interactive virtual environment throughout the day. We mostly enjoyed in the real world, playing our hearts out in the sunny days and moon – lit nights. Till my 10th standard, it was always cricket in the mornings and afternoons, and hide – and – seek during the nights. We were mostly into several sorts of adventures like climbing up tall compound walls, which were far beyond our heights to reach, and ringing the calling bells of strangers’ homes, which would disturb their peaceful dinner or serene sleep. Eventually, we were at the court of parents, who would pretend to be strict with us for the first two or three days post the incident, after which we would go on with our duty.

            There was an old man who became our target mostly. This man was highly superstitious and orthodox in practice. Once, we rang the doorbell at his home and hid among the bushes of his own garden. He, on thinking that the guests whom he was awaiting, had arrived, opened the door eagerly. Disappointed on seeing nobody, he yelled on top of his throat some traditional Tamil abuses, which only grandmas and grandpas could comprehend. Just then, one of the guys meowed like a cat in a coarse voice, which evidently frightened the old man. He immediately rushed towards the front door and locked it. After sometime, we could hear him speaking to someone though phone, “Don’t come here now. And, I mean it. There have been ominous signs here. I sense danger and threat to your lives. I heard a black cat purring, which I a signal of evil. So, better cancel your plans and come here some time later.” We had tasted the most convincing victory in terms of frightening someone apparently through this man. However, we were found to responsible and ‘punished’ by our parents in the usual way, which I already mentioned.

            As I grew up, so did the number of houses being built. So, we were left with no other option but to play in the streets. This drew flak from our neighbors and we were seen as some aliens who had come on Earth to destroy the whole planet. People had their own reasons: They could not sleep during noon due to our noises, they had to repair glass panes in the windows very often, courtesy the ruthless shots played by us and more. Some started detesting our parents and it went to the extent of even avoiding them totally in some important meetings in the locality. But, we had justifications on our part. “Suggest us at least only one ground, which is entirely empty without even a single house, and we’d play there. Who likes to play in these nasty roads?” In spite of the stern opposition from the whole of the area, we managed to spend every morning in the hot sun. Neither their abuses and grumbles nor our habit stopped.

            There was a lady, who was very brainy in eating at others’ house. She knew the weak point of each residence and went there prepared accordingly. In our house, her chances always broadened when she started speaking sentimentally about her family situation and the regular brawls and difference of opinions with her mother – in – law. She would start by asking, “Can I have a cup of water, please?” Mom would instantaneously offer it; as the tempo of her story increased, so would her menu list. Sometimes this would result in her getting a full dinner. I always wonder how she had such a brilliance, which if used in a beneficial way, would have easily made her an extraordinary diplomatic strategy analyst. However, mom understood her tactics as her stories and gossips became almost the same every day like the mega serials and Harris Jayaraj songs and learnt to avoid her in a polished manner. Now, no person of this kind could be found here because people here never mind about spending money these days for something or nothing. But, there were personalities like this lady, who would spend any amount of time, but not money, to satisfy their needs.

            Recently, during the semester holidays, I had this chance of meeting some of those neighbors who had had a grudge on me during various time periods. The old man, whom we meowed blessed me from the core of his heart and soul, the lady who had once shouted bad about my parents because of my playing cricket near her house and breaking their windows, now greeted me with snacks and coffee. I can still remember that old man saying, “The world has changed entirely. People are in a different mindset and mentality, focusing on only material wealth. Even children younger than you are always engrossed in front of computers. There’s nobody out here to disturb my sleep by ringing the bell. Miss you children.

There are two wonderful things about elders:
1)    They have the capability to easily make me cry through their words
2)    Only they can fulfill my hunger to the fullest extent other than mom, even by giving bhajjis and a cup of milk, but with unfathomable love and affection, which cannot be compensated by loading the belly with pizzas and cool drinks.


Miss you people!!!

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