Juvenilia...School Times...

2004,Standard XII

INGRAHAM INSTITUTE  ENGLISH SCHOOL

SOME GAGS OF MY LIFE

# MY  MOST EMBARRASING MOMENT ON STAGE

We were in green house, all the questions were childish , even a junior student could have answered them ,the auditorium was full and occupied by every criticizing person possible .And they had ‘Great expectations from me’  every thing was going fine ,until- 

 I was sitting nervously, then the next terrible question was shot at us...the girl (anchor)  started –‘which is the fastest running animal on earth?’ I didn’t knew what happened to me in that very moment. Had I gone blank? not exactly, for without even the slightest hesitation I replied-  “OSTRICH”

and ..for three whole seconds ,the whole auditorium submerged into silence , I raised my head a little ,looked here and there ,’what is happening?’  and the  next thing which I heard was a loud ,roaring ,thundering ,combined laughter in the auditorium… and Neha, was venting out all her anger on me. “Its not ostrich ,you idiot it’s a leopard she asked about the fastest running animal ,not bird .”  They would have excused me, If I had even uttered the name of a animal , ostrich is not even an animal . I felt so, so, so      embarrassed that I didn’t dared to even look at any thing else except the surface of the table, my head bowed down, till the quiz contest came to an end and the worst part ,we lost …when it all ended ,I rushed to the cycle stand and I cursed myself I didn’t even turned back and looked anyone ,if I were a little late my classmates and those devils of the ‘B’ section would come and make fun of me ,and I feared what I will face if that Rahul came….HUMILIATION.  I fled from the spot .When I reached the main gate of the school a boy from my house was mocking at me he was in  a much junior class . He said  ‘There goes the loser ,our house lost just because of you ‘   .

I cycled as fast as I could and breathed a sigh of relief only when I reached home .

To avoid all possible embarrassments and accusations, I didn’t go to school one whole week and spent my time in home, sulking over what I had done it may seem a little but it was too much to be taken for granted…although there have been many embarrassing moments in my life nothing can be as embarrassing as answering a question wrong in a stupid quiz competition ....and that too the question being most trivial….

 ...there was no excuse left for me to say anything or to persuade my mind against my predicament. I was even nicknamed –‘Mr. Ostrich’ by one of my friends.

#MY LOVE FOR SINGING

 It was our English Literature period .As usual, my love for singing continued even in the lecture of the subject which I loved the most .And that too ,every kind of song ,whether the singer is Madonna or Shamshad Begum ,it didn’t matter to me. I loved singing ,no matter what a torture it is to the listeners .My friends fondly called me –‘FM Radio’ , as I used to sing songs on every situation. So, just as usual, my singing was in full swing that day. Mrs. Shukrey happened to be our English teacher .She is an old lady and moreover, I happened to be her favorite student, after all, who got the highest marks every time, okay, I am not boasting, let me return to our subject –my singing.

I was sitting with Vvidushi. The teacher had not yet arrived. She is an old, aged lady and took a lot of time to reach our class. We usually had a lecture of 35 minutes, 10 minutes she took to come to our classroom, 15 minutes we took to settle down, so Mrs. Shukrey had to remain contented teaching us hardly for 10 minutes.

This time my song happened to be –‘Tan dole mera man dole’  ,from an old movie . A gem of Lata Mangeshkar was today finding place in our English Literature class.

My song was in full swing, Vvidushi was listening and enjoying thoroughly, laughing at me, suddenly the expression on her face grew grim, serious ,pale, terrified and stupefied .

But I continued my singing, I asked Vvidushi-“what is the matter? Why are you so quiet?” I suddenly realized that the whole class was silent. What was happening ?From a wink of her eyes, she tried to tell me something , and I turned back ,there she was our teacher –Mrs .Shukrey , “What happened Abhishek? you may continue singing ,go on”

I was so shocked by embarrassment that I could hardly say any thing I stammered – “ I …I … Am

sorry ma’m “    She would not listen a thing she continued – “come on, I heard you singing “ I didn’t reply .

“How come you remember such an old song ?”

At once a reply came from me-“ Because it was remixed !!”   How absurd was to give such a reply to her In front of the whole class.

She only said “I expect you to be more disciplined “

 The matter was left out but I became a laughing stock for my classmates. This was even worse than that stupid quiz competition.

#I CAN’T CONTROL MY SLEEP !!!

Our biology teacher respected Mr.Ajay Singh happened to be the most boring teacher in the whole world ,whom I used to hate (pardon me ) ,he was just so boring and he boasted of everything and every experience(whether he had it or not, I don’t know) .He was small ,not much in height just five feet ,three or four inches ,with a tummy bulging slightly outside, and with a leather belt with a cellphone tucked onto it. Anyone who saw him understood why he was famous as “CHAVANNI”,because of his height .It is a hindi name given to the 25 paisa coin .

 When he smiled ,three of his front teeth , molars ,or whatever, gave a sight which I  will never forget  , and moreover ,those three teeth were blackened . Somebody told me that it was a result of a feud with some vagabonds, rowdy boys of some other school, who burnt his TEETH!!, after giving him a severe beating. I laughed at this idea, it may be true, who knows? His character had many layers to it.

While teaching biology ,he gave us a rough knowledge of all the subjects which existed in this world .He wore spectacles that were a bit huge for his face, frowning through them ,he would teach us the theory of evolution ,often interrupted by his own enriching experiences , One day ,when he was giving a lecture on the theory of evolution , he asked us “Okay ,can you tell me ,class, which living being bears a close resemblance to us, from which evolution of the Homo Sapien has taken place?”

 To this question I answered, keeping him in mind – “Sir, we have evolved from monkeys!” This I had answered just for fun, however that part is true that I meant him, by that answer. The whole class roared in  fits of laughter . And he said with an angry tone - “you better keep quiet if you don’t know the correct answer”. My answer was enough to disgust him for the next few days .But I had no doubts that he has evolved from monkeys.

Now, his experiences, I must tell, included a lot of trekking, fishing, hunting, adventures and his tales of his family. Often, genetic mutation was interrupted with his mention of his Grand father and how he encountered a ghost which wore expensive jewelry!

Often I thought ,’if you have so much experience, then what the hell are you doing in this school?’

Another dilemma with him was that his syllabus was never complete. No matter how fast we were in catching or how fast he could be, which he never was. As a result, a lot of course was left to be covered and to compensate, he started taking extra classes, which I never attended, he sometimes took other teacher’s periods too, to teach biology.

Once, we had practical classes in whole of our second half, so this was his chance, and it was the greatest torture of my life, he took all the four periods after the lunch break to teach us biology, I was attentive throughout the first two periods ,and each time the bell sounded, I was excited ,as it marked the end of one period ,end of 35 minutes of suffering. When the third bell sounded, I was growing sleepy, effected by the dullness of the November month , and the gloomy ,dingy classroom ,and most of all his lecture , I was on the last bench , and I was far away from his sight, unnoticed, I took my heavy bag ,placed it in front of me on the desk ,so that it will reduce my chances of getting caught, and threw myself on the desk ,my eyes closed, and I gave up to the honey-heavy dew of the slumber ,though partially, not completely. I could hear his speech but I didn’t dare to look up, it was so enjoyable. All, of a sudden , everything came to a came to a standstill, and a silence occupied the room, I suspected something is wrong , I looked up with dizzy eyes ,yawning, with my jaws wide open. I found everyone staring at me, I started feeling nervous, and the situation worsened, interrupted by a familiar voice-

“Abhishek, I never expected you to sleep in the class. “

No answer.

“Actually”, he continued ,” You are not sleeping , I am sleeping “ Then addressing other students ,he said –“ He has made me realize that It is me who actually sleeps in the class , this means that I am not a good teacher , had I been a good one , you won’t have a reason to sleep during my lecture.”

I agreed completely with him, after all, one should admit his mistakes, be it a teacher.

He then came to me and asked –“Are you not feeling well?”

I said –“Sir, may I go and wash my face?”

“You surely can, you can even take a bath if you want.” He said cynically.

To this I replied, “Sir, that is not possible here, I have to manage by washing my face only.”

This ridiculed him and he arranged the fingers of his right hand in a curved form, caressing the thumb, he then again asked me- “Do you know what this is?”

“Surely sir, it’s a punch!!”

“Get out before it destroys your face and you are never able to wash it again.”

I fled.

#FUNNY YET SERIOUS

Once, it was proved practically that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it can only be transferred from one body to the another .

It happened so that Anu was sitting peacefully at her seat the period being a free period , we were taking full advantage of it , Asheerwaad , the prankster , came and was in a mood for fun , helpless Anu being unaware of it , Asheerwaad is a person whom I used to hate but today ,he is my good friend , but that is another story , well he came and in an impulse of a moment, swung his bag over her head , his intention was not to hurt her , but it did , a great blow over her head and her temper knew no bounds , and he went away to avoid all embarrassment .She was still sulking and fretting over him and was standing just near the door , when I entered the classroom , unintentionally, I hit her , and as we all know , every action has an equal and opposite reaction , she hit me back .A tight slap right over my face ,   on my left cheek. And, for a moment , I remembered my mother , only she had slapped me in my whole life.But to get a slap from a girl, and that too with no fault of yours ,was really disgusting. My spectacles flew away five feet apart ,to the biology lab. And I being almost on the floor .I was about to fall. I recollected myself, and just went away, without even saying a word.

By lunch break everyone came to know that ‘K.V.’ was slapped by Anu.

In the lunch –break , I was walking in the corridor downstairs, Pulkit, that irritating guy, was behind me. According to my personal observation , some people do no harm to you ,but on seeing their face , you feel disgusting and get irritated, and you just wish to give them a tight punch ,without any reason.

He was just like that . I was in a bad temper . So, he was at risk, he held my blazer and wouldn’t let me go ,he was irritating me.

I persuaded him to leave me, but he wouldn’t, and I found myself more and more ridiculed. Then I didn’t see anything and just flung my right hand in the air, and gave him a tight slap which he is going to remember his whole life. He fell onto the floor. And I left the spot, later on I saw him, with his face swollen as if fat had accumulated over it .

In the end the energy of the slaps was transferred from Asheerwaad to Anu to me and finally to Pullkit . Perhaps he may have given that to someone else .

For the first time I saw that Physics is very much there in our daily lives .Energy can neither be created ,nor destroyed, it can only be transferred from one body to the another.

Being Iyer…Part 2

As I write this, I am simultaneously flipping through some pics on a Facebook page dedicated to Iyers…called Iyer Tips, personally I love this page, haha… for each and every goddamn thing written here is true to the core, ranging from Poonal to Thayir-Chaadam and what not…!! Well.. talking about Iyer bhashai, whenever I saw those lame TV serials on Sun TV, which my mom used to follow so religiously, I became confused as I was a kid then and wondered, why the hell do these people speak that kind of Tamil, with an accentuated nasalized tone?? 

Haha… boy oh boy… who knows pure tamil anyway… everything has become so adulterated nowadays,well.. growing up in Ghaziabad was quite easy, as I passed myself for a north Indian. Having been born in Ghaziabad, My elder sister, though had to undergo the numerous regimes of a typical Iyer family, like..learning Bharatnatyam by one Shantha aunty, who lived quite far from our home, another Palakkad iyer like us, living in Ghaziabad, the day Shantha aunty’s family got shifted to New Delhi, that was the happiest day for my elder sister K.V.Meenakshi, as she is called, for she no longer had to tolerate those torturing and long bharatnatyam classes.

I was named Subramaniam at birth. Subramaniam being my Paternal Grandfather’s name, and as per Iyer custom, a grandson is named after the Grandfather, so my name became K.V.Subramaniam, that is Koduvayur Venkitaraman Subramaniam, Koduvayur being the place of the family lineage, and Venkitaraman being my father’s name, but mom decided to go against the family norms for once and rechristened me as “Abhishek” . although common, but I guess it sounded easier and less scary than Subramaniam, gaawd… at that time I hated subramaniam so much , and everyone in the family used to call me as Chuppamani…!! (ughhhh)… but the irony of the situation today is –after a lot of trials and tribulations , I decided that my facebook name would be Abhishek Subramaniam Iyer, after all, I am proud of being an iyer 

My sister used to be taunted by my mother, and as our Facebook page says: She used to taunt her when she didn’t get up early –“Naalaku nee thaan innooru aathuku poyi kashta pada porai”  !! Now I realize that one can never ever forget the essence of the place from where we came from, sometimes at the local south Indian Temple during avaniattam, I used to get embarrassed, as I don’t know how to wear a veshti properly to this day, so I really avoid avaniattam at the first place, that rebellion seed had been planted inside me since childhood, I got so suffocated by all those customs, and dos and don’ts.. everytime…!! 

Well.. this is just the beginning of the story.. a lot to share.. a lot to come….!! But bye for now… as More assignments are waiting for this Iyer…!! :D

"Simran"

22^nd January,2013

1:55 am,Jawahar Bhawan ,IIT Roorkee

“Simran”

I was working tirelessly throughout another freezing night in my hostel room at Jawahar Bhawan,and still, there was truckloads of works to be done…with a table full of scattered notes, discarded library books amounting to huge fines…some biscuit wrappers, and a drawer full of empty cigarette packs,,..to keep myself awake, I decided to go to the canteen to fill my thermos flask with tea,that thermos flask has been a gift by mom who knows how fond I am of “China’s tulsi” :D I mean “Tea” , being a day scholar throughout my 5 years of B.Arch, this was my first time in hostel,,, so obviously like every Indian mom, my mom had a list of concerns about me…

Well,after “Gupta ji’s” payment.. I started my way back to hostel with my thermos and two packets of tiger biscuits, as soon as I reached my door front, I saw a female dog, with black and white patches, shivering just outside on the plinth, I opened my door, kept the flask inside, and fed her a few biscuits, and after finishing her meal..she extended her front limb to give me a handshake… and that precise moment filled me with emotion, it may be due to over 30 hours of sleeplessness , I thought…but no.. she reminded me so much of our landlord’s German Shepherd –Tiger, I had never owned a pet in my life..but  I almost had Tiger in my custody…always…she didn’t even let me park my bicycle unless I played with her for a while after returning from school, and then after she had given birth, her health deteriorated rapidly, and she was sent back to the dog home, from where she had been bought, that saddened me to a great extent at that time.

I wondered how she got the name Simran at the first place, my friend told me that she had been in Jawahar since 2 or 3 years, “The only lady in Jawahar” as I called her…!! :D

Now she has grown fond of me within these 2 months, I came back today evening after weekend at home, and as soon as she saw me, she came running and didn’t let me go without a handshake, that’s her usual routine, unless I fed her something.

But, even when I go for my classes to the department which is very next to our hostel, she is already waiting for me,hehe… she guides me all the way till I have reached the Department, and at sometimes, she is already at the department parking when I come out after our boring lectures, and now almost all my batchmates know her…!! And recently..she acquired the name of Simran Iyer too <grunt> :P

Hahahahahaha

But anyway.. sometimes hope comes in small packages, and just caring for a pet makes u realize that you have emotions deep there, masked by the external manifestations of long, tiring faces, and God has made this world so beautiful that even the minutest of living beings might be having some emotion to them. When I go home, my 4 pets are always waiting for me to feed them cheese biscuits, or peas or “Dhaniya”, and these 4 pets being my four Albino(white) rats… :D

Mom and I tried naming them in a fancy way…like Jack and jill… and all that sorts, but finally what worked for the males was “Hari Prasad and Ram Prasad” and “Silk” and “Sheila” for the females, out of the 4, Hari Prasad is my personal favorite.. and best buddy at home…!! God… I sometimes miss them the most!! Here in Roorkee….!!

I think keeping a pet and caring for it, keeps alive the humane side of it, however funny and mundane it may sound….

But still…. They Keep you Alive…!!! And Loving…!! J

Roorkee Chapters: A Rikshaw ride..

25^th November,2012

4:49 am, Jawahar Bhawan IIT Roorkee

A Rikshaw ride..

It may seem quite weird when you have an exam day after and getting weird ideas to update your blog at this wee hour, but I have to…!! As I write this, I am surrounded by numerous discarded Legislation notes, a table full of books, newspapers, biscuit packets, my thermos flask. Etc etc.

Well…to beat the cold, and just to get an outing, I decided that buying a rajai would be a nice idea to beat the cold as well as to get some refreshment, so all set, I went out of the clumsy hostel room , and walked till civil lines , where I halted at a “Khokha” , to get a Classic Regular, as I lit the smoke,  I asked the pan-waalah as from where could I get a good rajaai… and he told be … “arey bhai, yahaan civil lines mein to aapko loot lenge…aap ek kaam karo.. pul(bridge) paar karke jaao, wahaan line se rajaai waale baithe hue hain, wahaan aapko 500-600 rs mein rajaai mil jaayegi…wahaan jaakar bata dena ki Mittal paan waale ne bheja hai to 100-150 rs discount mil jaayega…”

Well.. this is India, everyone has some alleged “reference” and we take pride in referring that reference to someone, hehe…

I thanked the rajaai waala for his generosity and took a rikshaw and told him to take me to the rajaai waala…

As the rikshaw made its way through the crowd of civil lines, I observed Roorkee  around me…!! It was just like any other mediocre town in India, yet it was a great rikshaw ride, Civil lines really changes colors during evening, though its crowded, it has its own charm, the student store, the peanut seller, the lassi shop at the corner, the horrible, disproportionate statues of Azaad and Maharana Prataab, at the corner, a Gulaabjaamun vendor sells hot gulaabjaamuns, perfect to relish in this cold weather, and then the mosque, the haphazard bookshops…Not to forget, “Maateshwari Chaat bhandaar” , which tempted me to have a feast…!!

Well.. the Old Town and the New Town of Roorkee are separated by a bridge, over the ganga canal, with mediocre ghats and not to forget, the Statues of Two Lions. Well, I reached old roorkee where the Rikshawaala dropped me.. and said “Bhaisab yahaan se pata kar lo”.

So I started making enquiries for the “Rajaai”, one by one at the shops, some said-arey seedhe jaao ,dikh jaayengi,

“Aage chauraahe se left ho jaana”

“Arey bhaisaab, yahaan kahaan aa gaye, civil lines mein milegi rajaai”

“aap ek kaam karo, aage se right lo, left mein kuch nahi hai”

Well.. numerous replies later, I found the chauraaha, being my first visit to Old Roorkee, I quite liked the idea of getting lost and roaming around, because the old town of roorkee is just like any other Old Town, overweight aunties and uncles roaming and having “chaat” at the chaat corners, stuffing “golgappe” into their big mouths, ladies in glittering sarees, as if they have just attended a wedding party, numerous girls bargaining over salwar suit prices, beedi-smoking rikshawaalas, I wish I had my camera at that time, just to capture the essence of it…!!

Well.. several enquiries and several “Galis”(lanes) later, I found what I was looking for, two grey bearded men, sitting in front of a grey colored shop with Grey rajaais…!! The shop was a stark contrast to other cheerful and bright lanes of Old Roorkee, he offered me a rajaai at a price of Rs.650, and knowing that my bargaining skills are not good, I decided to finally buy that rajaai..!! That paan waala reference did not work as the rajai waala simply refused to acknowledge any Mittal and Paan bhandaar….

Well.. rajaai packed, I waited for a Rikshaw to head for my hostel, finally I hauled my rajaai in that riksha and asked the rikshaw-waala

“Bhaiyya, maachis hai?? “

“haanji yeh lo”

The rikshawaala took out his lighter and lighted my cigarette, and the journey back to Jawahar Bhawan began.

I decided to pay a visit to old roorkee again, with my camera, but only after all these exams and submissions and whatever is over…!!

Well.. time to use the rajaai now…

Morever… numerous pages of UDPFI Guidelines… notes … LPG reforms are waiting to be read at my table.. but who cares… hehe … I will study tomorrow…Because:

“The Universal Rule of Syllabus says that no matter how much leaves or gaps you get to prepare for the exam, you always study on the day before... ek din pehle jo hota hai woh 10 din mein bhi nahi ho paata !! :D :D 3:)”

Being Iyer…

16^th September,2012

For a person who is a south Indian Keralite Iyer by birth, its quite difficult to connect back to your native land ,when you have been born and brought up in North for 25 years, unaware of all the complexities what my parents might have faced, my dad migrated from Palakkad,Kerela in the year 1971 to Kanpur, and got married in 1979 to Mrs.N.V.Thailambal,(that’s my mom,of course)… and then finally,settled in Ghaziabad in 1979, Our landlady taught mom how to cook, gave her a hindi-cized name…Geeta Raman, and also happened to be her hindi teacher.

Days passed,actually got transformed and there was a certain metamorphosis from being and Iyer to a North Indian, I was born in 1987, so… I am a north Indian in that sense…!! But since childhood, there was always a feeling of a certain longevity, an eagerness to learn more about my roots, although some of the traditional Iyer customs irritated me, still I managed to pull through well.

I became irritated at the family functions where all the “Taathas, and paatis and maamas and maamis” used to gather and we had the similar set of questions repeated again and again in every gathering…

“Onakku poonal potaacho??”  “Poonal is the sacred thread which Brahmins are supposed to wear and they are also required to do a “Sandhyamantaram” or “Sandhyavandanam” every morning and evening after wearing it. I would name it as “Poonalising” ceremony..!!so finally it happened on one fine day in 2004, and I could proudly say that now I had all the qualifications of being an Iyer. Apart from the fact that I didn’t knew how to read or write Malayalam or Tamil, Interestingly, every Palakkad Iyer is well versed in Tamil and Malayalam, being located in Kerela only geographically, there is an interesting history how Iyers acquired a major portion in Palakkad and several other parts of Kerela, and gradually their Tamil got mixed with Malayalam, and so it gave birth to a new sub-dialect of Tamil, Iyer Bhashai or Iyer Tamil or Palakkad Tamil, being basic tamil with a lot of Malayalam influence.(for which I am still mocked at by some.. :D ).

When I was unaware of all this history, I was in a constant dilemma telling people about my native place, whether I should tell them Kerela, or Ghaziabad....

To be continued...

“Kanna Mama”

Nurani Village,Palakkad,Kerela…..somewhere around 1997

I was born and brought up in north…But somewhere I am emotionally connected to my origins…Nurani…Where my parents were born and lived before settling down here..Nurani is a small sleepy village…some 200 years old with Iyers constituting the majority of the population…a mix of tamil and malayalam can be found here..The village itself has an interesting history…

And Mr.N.V.Hariharan belongs to the same village…my maternal uncle, he was in his mid-40’s at that time..but never did he lack the energy…We went there almost every year for around 15-20 days during my vacations and that was the best time I had. With the charming Mangalore-tile covered houses..their  pitched roofs and kerela monsoons….The village has a “Kovil” or a temple dedicated to lord Ayappa at the centre of it…which was thronged by devotees every morning and evening….which I was reluctant to visit ,the reason being that in hardcore traditional south indian temples men are supposed to wear “Veshti –Mund” the traditional attire of Kerela and remain bare-chested….However..it was a soothing place…with a lake(kollam) behind it …where the bathing ghats were built…

“Kannan” was my uncle’s nickname since childhood which was now shortened to “Kanna Mama” and he was known in the entire village by this name…He suffered from elephantiasis…in one foot..so he never wore any shoes or chappals and roamed in the entire village like this…My vague memories of him go back to the time when I was just 7 years old.Still unmarried ,he had refused to marry despite the persuasions of family members and lived alone…and the only love which he had was for me and my elder sister…whenever we went there…He always used to come up to the railway station to get us…with other relatives being too “busy” with their material state of affairs..well..That’s another story…

Every morning I would get up and wait for him and he took me to the nearby lake..where a vendor used to sell “aapam” which is a close derivative of a dosa..served with tomato and coconut chutney on a banana leaf….i still relish the taste and feel of it!!then he took me through the entire village clutching my hand tightly and stopping here and there just to have a conversation with the other “mamas” of Nurani…..or to stop and share some “Vettalaya-pak” (Paan)  with the others…

Then we came back and I waited till the evening for my next outing with him…I saw the village through his eyes, and despite the fact that he was alone, I never saw him unhappy….and he is always a special part of my childhood memories at Nurani…

Each house in Nurani is built in the authentic Kerala style …with houses being “Long” in profile rather than being horizontal…I loved that house …it was majestic…with the 200 year old worn out tiles and then a well in the backyard…and not to forget , the never ending coconut trees at every house…Kanna mama used to draw water from the well and sometimes just threatened me for fun-“I will throw you in that well”…

And I always targeted him for my demands ranging from toys to delicacies to sweets..and he never refused me anything, and then whenever we departed from Nurani, I cried so much ….even 15-20 days can make such an impact on a child’s mind…

Well…the departure announcement was made and we went away far from the place …from our home town to our current home town..Ghaziabad…But for days to come after we came back..my mind was still somewhere in Nurani..i missed those “aapams” for breakfast and roaming around with “Kanna mama” for days to come until my school reopened …..