Friday, May 11, 2007

school days

you know the thing i realise, is that you may come from a family of 5, but all five of you would have had different childhoods - you are passengers in a car on the same journey, but one of you was driving, one of you got the window seat that looked at the other lane, one of you got sort of squished up in the center, one of you was leaning out the front passenger window looking at the gorgeous scenery, and one of you sat at the back pissed off that you didn't get to sit in front... seriously. go ask your siblings.

i have 2 younger brothers, and whilst we used to gang up on each other a lot pre-puberty, we became incredibly close friends in our teens and were happy to be constantly in each other's company. We shared secrets, friends and bitched about our relatives together... but if you sat down now and sort of pscycho analysed us - you would think that we came from different families...

the elder of my brothers was a straight A student, an over achiever, he was a prefect, a head prefect,a scout bla bla blah - i don't know he felt the need to do that and he did... he made my parents proud. They were proud parents of him.... his report cards were very boring - all 99% and 100%...

my report cards on the other hand, were works of art, when they managed to come back home... mmm, the first time i forged my dad's signature on my report card, i was 9. now i think of it, that does seem to be a little early to be dabbling in forgery, but as history will show, i was a rank amateur... the signature looked exactly like his, but i had signed it with a pencil (so that i could erase it if it looked wrong...) - i learned that day (after the teacher slapped me) that people only sign with pens, so that other people cannot erase their signatures... (to think that now i am a lawyer, constantly harrassing people to sign here, with a black pen...)

well anyway, thus began my career in school, and it proceeded merrily onward after that. teachers pulled their hairs out over me, punished me, visited my house as if it was the local 7-11, and prophesied a dire and desperate future for me...of course the fact that i was always in the top ten of my class sort of made things worse... i don't know why.i mean it should have made it better surely. girl who doesn't do her homework, talks in class all day long, is the messiest girl in school, and who is constantly reading a story book (which would usually have been wildly inaproppriate for my age group) behind my geography book - scores well in exams. its a matter for rejoicing, no? Apparently not. every teacher i had hated me, some with more venom than the others... but i had lots of fun, and had lots of friends, so i don't know what their problem was... the only thing was of course that it was slightly hazardous to be my partner. for you to talk in class, you have to talk to someone, otherwise they sort of commit you for insanity...so it didn't matter that i always got partnered with the most studious kid in class. by the end of the year, i would have destroyed all that poor kids credibility... i also always forgot to bring my books, so my poor partner always had to share her books with me, and lend me her notes (because i didn't take it down), and help me with my domestic science stitching and i don't know what else... sad to say, i have lost touch with most of these girls. i should one day like to track them down and say, thank you for all that you did...and sort of give them a hug and then sort of say, But why? why would you have sat with a nut like that?... but as they say, that all is like so much piss in the river... long gone and history...

my youngest brother is younger than me by 5 years, but he decided to follow in my footsteps, and in fact, outshined me. He did all that i did, but cut classes, hung out with every thug's kid who went to school (or dropped out of school) in brickfields, smoked, failed exams merrily, got notes from the headmaster and i don't know what else. my parents having grown up nicely by then, refused to go to see the headmaster, and sent me their representative to speak to esteemed HM and sundry teachers (on the excuse that they had done their duty with me, and that now it was my turn)- so off i went, to listen and nod my head sagely. i mean can you imagine the scenario? you need to speak to him you know... he doesn't do his homework, he talks in class... blah blah blah... and i look at him, and say, yes, i will sit down and talk to him. i understand...so funny.

my parents brought us all up the same way you know, so i don't know how we turned up so different. or how our perceptions of our childhoods are so wildly apart. they just are. we just are. and this makes me think of all that i worry about bringing up Gitanjali...

what food, what books, which school, which class, and God knows the millions of things i think about in bringing her up. i worry about giving her too much, not enough too little, i don't know... all sorts of things. motherhood seems to come with built in guilt. and you know the thing is, i sort of get the feeling that no matter what i do or don't do, she will one day turn around and say "i hate you. stop bugging me..." or something... and probably she will need some expensive psycho therapy to undo my damage... let's hope not ok. and here's to wishing that she will always love me as madly as she loves me now. that she will always have a sudden urge to run and give me a hug... though probably if she does it when she's 33, she probably needs psycho therapy anyway...

anyway guess what? my friend says i'm ms bling bling. so there? at leat she can say she has a bling bling mum

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sri, at 32 I still sometimes have the urge to run and hug my mum although I was the worst teenager I think. It's not a bad thing right?

shri said...

oh dear. of course it doesn't babe. we all want to do that isn't it? and there's days when i feel so bad that all i want is my mom. so i take it back. if gitanjali still wants to hug and kiss me 35 times in the morning (at one go), i shall be happy and accept it gracefully, and not refer her to the psychiatrist..

we should all have that mom isn't it? the one who lets you cuddle her as much as you need. Here's to all our moms and all moms out there. Happy mother's day!

geetha said...

Nice write up on your childhood.. I am sure you loved looking back on how you guys grew up.. I love it too!

Happy Mother's Day to you :)