Schooled for life

It's my responsibility to put my daughter into her school bus at 6.30, every morning. This is a more complex operation than would appear at ...

It8217;s my responsibility to put my daughter into her school bus at 6.30, every morning. This is a more complex operation than would appear at first, especially if it is conducted in the severe winter of Delhi, when a thick fog enshrouds the entire area. To wake up a child from her warm bed in the early morning under such circumstances is truly heart rending.

At times like that, my thoughts drift to my own childhood in the remote village of Elamgulam, in God8217;s Own Country. Father, being a teacher, was very strict about schooling and we children had to get up early in the morning, after washing our faces in front of the conventional lamp lit in the front veranda, and get down to our studies. After studying for three hours, we would go down to the pond to have our baths. Breakfast would follow and then it was off to school 8212; around 8.30 am with a packed lunch.

At school, we knew the time of day by watching the shadow that the thatched front roof made on the veranda floor. The lunch break was between one and two in the afternoon and we had our meals in the open fields. Lunch came in a banana leaf and it always tasted great.

Reaching school 8212; which was about two miles away 8212; was fun. There was no proper road to school. We had to walk through coconut groves and farmsteads. According to the season, we helped ourselves to the mango, cashew fruit, and amlas that came along the way and picked up some secrets all our own. For instance, a bite of the amla followed by a drink of water would create a wonderful sensation of sweetness.

All the children walked to school in their bare feet and injuries caused by rough thorns and sharp stones were common. But it really was no problem because we also learnt how to use the lush vegetation around us like a first-aid kit. All we had to do was to rub one medicinal herb or the other over the bruise and it would heal. Of course, this scurrying through the bushes also meant encounters with many small reptiles and poisonous snakes. These, too, we learnt to deal with after a fashion. Sooner or later, the midsummer vacation would be upon us and life was one big joy. We used to swim until our eyes turned red and the skin on our fingers got wrinkled. Or we would shimmy up trees and relate stories to each other for hours.

Thinking of those fun times, I realise how much my little daughter is missing by spending her childhood in a concrete jungle like Delhi, far away from the green, green fields of home. But, as they say, such is life!