Sunday, September 30, 2012

Life of Little Princess. Part-2


pussycat and I visited her kitten. (I carried her in a bag and took it to two of her kitten. she recognized them! it was a warm feeling watching them snuggling each other. I love cat washing her face with its paw and playing with her kittens. They are more affectionate towards their little one….

Even though I had three other dogs in my life I still love cats … we Aquarian had some of their traits. We do things under impulse. At times, we are killed for our curiosities! Literally.

Memories of my childhood are different from yours. As a small children we used to watch young boys playing football on our by lane. For us it was all ways Good Ball. They all played football made of rubber. It was about six inch in diameter. In those days football made of leather was very expensive. As a small child, we made our own Good ball. It was made of coir (coconut fiber) covered with old news page and tried it with jute rope. It was also same size like their rubber ball. Later years some of those played with same ball went on to play for young challengers at the Calicut main stadium. 

Without pocket money we could not afford to buy football .till eight standards we used rubber ball to play football. While studying eighth standard we printed donation slips and went around our neighborhood to collect money for our club. In 70’s that was the method, we all use to buy our football and start clubs. At last, we had our first football made of leather. However, not everybody can afford to buy football shoe. Therefore, we use canvas shoe to pay football. 

I was always a goalkeeper. Defending my territory gave me all time high. In those days, T.V was not introduced in Kerala. We get a chance to see FIFA at the theater before the start of main movie. My favorite was Pele, Francis Beken Baruva, and Polo Rossi. England Capitan and goalkeeper Shelton was my idol. In India, we had a Sardaji called Charanjith Singh. He was so tall. Nothing can get past within his reach. The only way to score the goal was to send the ball between his long slender legs!  

Summer vacation time, national team like Mohan Began, Mohammedan sporting, Dembo, and other national level teams fight it for the Sait Nagaji Memorial Cup. In those days, our parents never gave us pocket money. We some time get free pass if not we hang around the stadium to know the result. We bet on our favorite team. We Keralites always encouraged good team and their players. In those days, food ball was a passion. No other game holds your breath like football. Now cricket had replaced football.

 In 70’, we had three months monsoon in Kerala. Playing football on a rainy day was more fun than on summer. We always played simple football. We never bothered to play German method of formula play that is you get through two of your opponent and pass it on… our play was  like one dog running away with Idily (south Indian food) and all other dogs chasing him. Nobody likes to pass ball to others, everybody want to score Goal. Therefore, the person who got the hang on the ball will take it all the way to the opponent’s goal post. There used to be over excitement. Even before, he could kick the ball into the goal post, not just the spectator alone, even we players all scream in unison GOOOOOOAAAAAAAL!” then all of a sudden something goes wrong! Either striker goes for skating or he falls on his bum! Our playground was not a playground at all! It was a paddy field. Playing football on paddy field on a rainy days involved lots of unpredictable movement and little bit of skating. After the mud bath in paddy field, we took bath at in river if not at the temple pond.

 There was a joke about our way of plying football game. One of the prominent people after watching Kerala style of football asked the other person “why everybody is running after one ball, why not provide football for each one of them?” That was the way we had played football in those days. I also played cricket, shuttle badminton, chess, and carom board.

 At the goal post there used to be virtual stampede. Call it mayhem! That was the time we settled scores. Kicking some one’s ass! The person who got kicked leaves the ball and look around for the offender. “Who kicked my ass”? You must see his facial expression. If someone laughs at him, he will get thrashing. Around FIFA time, everywhere you see people playing football. For Keralites, football was a passion. I still believe they love football over the cricket.

My father was very strict. He brought me up with military dictatorship. When I was a young boy, my father conditioned me to tell nothing but truth. It was a sad story. We all know “Truth will Triumph” is an old proverb. Now it does not hold much water. In day-to-day life, we see the death of truth everywhere.

I will tell you how my late father taught me to tell nothing but truth. In those days, my eldest sister was doing her graduation in botany as main subject. But in my general, science botany was only a part of it. Comparing with my textbook, sister’s book had more details in it. She helped me in botany subject; it helped me to score more marks in botany. Because I scored more marks in science, my teacher was found of me. She allowed me to take botany class for students. One day I took my sister's textbook without telling her and went to school .I had drawn the figure of a leaf and want on to explain in minute details; more than what our textbook had permitted me to say. My teacher and classmate were very much impressed with my explanations. My sister complained it to my father that she had missed her textbook and she went to her friends' house to study. At home my father was waiting for me. He asked me whether I had taken my sister’s textbook. I said “No. I had not taken ". He checked my school bag and found her textbook inside my bag. I told a simple lie. But he got very angry. I had never seen him getting furious with me before. He had always warned me .He took out his thick leather belt and started beating me severely my mother tried to stop him but she also got some beatings. As my father went on beating me he asked me.” Why did you tell lies to me "? I said a simple lie .no harm was done .I don't know why he went on beating me. Like any other boy at the age of thirteen, I did not run away from the scene. Physical pain I can always bear it but anyone can hurt me emotionally .after he finished beating me with thick leather belt he left for kitchen. He murmured.  “you might forget the beating…" I looked down on my thighs. I was fair I those days. Below the shorts, there were thick red stripes all over my legs. It gave me burning sensation and the pain was unbearable. I did not cry .he came back with a big hot stainless steel spoon and he held my left hand paced it on my forearm. "You will remember this forever." after that, I found there was a swearing ceremony. I had to hold my parent's feet and promise that never in my lifetime I will tell lies…. I did just what I was asked to do and how I was asked to do … the burnt skin mark was there for very long years. Now it is no more visible but it left a deep wound in my heart .my mother cried for me …I went and sat under the big mango tree and started thinking. …"What if I run away from home?” In those days some time, I ask my mother for money to eat at hotel. There are some special sweet, which we do not make it at home. She usually gave one or two.........