Today while chatting with a
blog friend, I recalled my childhood days and the studies.
It was the result of my class 1st IInd term and when my parents came to collect the report card, they were shocked to see that I had failed. Neither my elder brother nor sister had given them such shock. So, they asked the teacher to show them my answer sheet and they found that I failed by 5 marks. They don’t remember all the questions but they do remember a set of questions. The question was to name something which starts with that alphabet and the question which I didn’t answer were "J","M","Q","Y". I still laugh thinking I couldn’t answer this simple question. But back then, my parents were not laughing but were seriously worried about my future. Somebody failing in class 1st itself, what bleak future he would hold.
I never liked to study ( I know many of you belonged to my category), my only passion in life was to play football. So if we get a free period, you know where I would be. In
dilli ki garmi, I would be happy, merrily playing in the football ground. My face would be red as
lal tamatar and all my clothes soiled and sometimes my
nikaar would be torn. And reaching home, I would get all scolding, my mom would have preserved from the morning. She would scold me to death and I would make sure she feels happy that her message is well received so that I have rest of my day in peace. So my evenings would go in playing football again. I don’t recall when I did my homework; well probably it was a trivial thing to remember. But hell would break loose during my exams. I was someone who thought that Maradona and Pele were illiterate fellows and that was their USP. So, I was not interested in studies, but given that parents can really strangle you to death if they wish to, so I would keep books in front of my face. Now it was covering my face not my eyes.
* chuckle* , So I would fix my eyes on the clouds and if I happen to find that the clouds are moving, I would give an expression almost close to "Eureka" . And would keep watching the clouds pass by, sometimes even waving my hands to the clouds. My next interesting thing in sky was the birds. I would always wonder why bird would fly in a peculiar fashion resembling the way the arrow was multiplied in the epic mahabharata. It was only a decade later I found the scientific reason. Then next interesting thing in the sky was airplane, well it was not very interesting as it was small (appeared) and very distant. But still since it would either leave a big gush of smoke making a big bold line in the sky or it would make some thundering noise or it would blink its eyes( lights glowing). Well they were my best buddies in the night since they were blinking all lovely colors.
Now coming down to earth, I was in love with the ants (chinti). Oh I would watch the chini go from one post to another 4 meters in length, so you can guess my love for them.
I would follow them to their holes and would keep looking at their big family. You know, every ant when it crosses the other always kisses or hugs each other before departing. I would get really sentimental looking at this and sometimes I would bring the two ants together but guess they would get confused and would not even meet each other. I have spend so much time chasing (following, should I say) that if I would have spend so much time chasing girls in my school, I would either have become a playboy or a convicted psycho girl stalker.
But the problem was that my mom would always spot me doing everything other than studies and would give me a nice scolding and sometimes even threatening to skip my lunch, then "
bhooka kya naa karta", I would start reading aloud whatever I was supposed to study, even if it was mathematics.
But the horror show would start in the night, when my dad would come. Now he would come late at home and given that my exam was scheduled the next day so like a responsible father he would take my books and would check to see if I know well for the exam. Now I know of birds, of clouds, of airplanes or the hideouts of ants but books?? So when he would ask question, I would be either dumbstruck or would blabber something softly. Now given that the next day is my exam and I don’t even know the basics, my dad would definitely get furious and would lash a "One tight slap" and his slap was, OMG, no less than a policewala's
haath. I would first loose my senses at such a tight slap then would start weeping in fits and tears rolling down my cheeks. Now I was not hurt emotionally or other, I was just hurt physically, for I got habitual to this ritual for last 2 years. So then I would study (cram) while weeping and somehow things would go into my head too. Now its not that my dad was too harsh, he would confess how bad he felt hitting me, to my mom in night , but given his helpless state and my non serious attitude to studies and his non inclination to get me some tuitions classes( I am thankful for that , seriosuly), he would become a little angry and that was it. Now the best part was that more than myself, my brother and my sister would panicked by me getting slaps from my dad for they sensed the anger and would worry if for some reason they might get a taste of my dad's anger. They would request me to study in the day but to no use. It continued till class 6th, when my dad got transferred and he left my future in my own hands.
Now coming to the subjects in higher studies, I never liked anything except Mathematics. It was a challenge finding what was 139 * 976 was!!. But I never liked history. Expecting remembering of dates of events of centuries back from a child who was less than a decade old, did not look like a reasonable logic. Also, I could never remember (not even now) as to who among - Aurengzeb, Humayun and Shah Jahan ,was father of whom. As for geography, I really didn’t understand
sala kaun sa mountain kahan hai, mujhay kya pata , main koi sadhuu hoon kya ??. As for chemistry, I liked it for a simple reason because the teacher was really nice and sweet. Physics was another disaster for me. I remember how I could not light a bulb using battery, in my practical exam. Drawing was the most dreaded class for me, because my drawing made no difference between humans and monkeys leaving the tail part. Thanks to the oh-so-sweet girls, who would do drawing for me and that too without any chocolates or candies( unbelievable isnt). Now the turn for the big monsters, English and Hindi. English was only good to the extend that it had lovely stories ( Gulmohar Trees was the book name, I guess) and I would have read those stories in the weekend when I purchased those books. So I was never interested in knowing what was past participle and what a complex sentence was. I would fix my gaze on my watch to see when the torture would end. Hindi was a little better because it had some good poems and dohas involved in it. I thoroughly enjoyed
Madhushala and a few other poems and loved
kabir key dohey. But beyond that, the fun ended. Hindi was so complicated language, the big and small matras,the dots at the bottom of the alphabets etc and worst of it the Jeevanis of Maha Devi Verma and the likes. So, my only subject of interest was Maths in which I scored highest marks and in most of the other subjects I was always a border line case.But in class 8th I got serious in studies(girl's effect :))) and was doing fairly well in class 9th and was among top 10 in class 10th Ist term, top 5 in IInd term and remained that way till my pre-board. Oh , I was the topper among boys, BTW. Then in board exams I did fairly well and secured 80.4%, now that wasnt that bad for a person like me, isn't!!
I recall today with smile how I have hated so many subjects which were not that tough if I look back today but back then, they were tougher than committing suicide, at least that’s what I thought. But I still couldn’t believe that I could not find a single word on this earth starting with "M” in class 1st exam !!
