From dawn to dusk @ 7 to 10

I was on my way back from school after a normal day of 2nd standard impositions for handwriting in SBOA,chennai.I got back home,took the evening snack and sat to study with mom doing the teaching and me the reciting.On the verge of completing the portions for the day,mom started to tell me this:

"next year nee hostel poi padikapora"

All I knew about an hostel then was that I will be all alone without my parents and more importantly my sister around.I was super thrilled to know that I would now be able to escape from the routine of mom's knocks and pinches while studies.I thought life was all going to be so easy without my sister's demand for my things.

Dad got back from office and knew his plan of sending his son to a boarding school went down well with me.He, then,told me I was going to be studying in MONFORT School,Yercaud.He passed me the brochure of the school.I was even more excited this time,as i saw the beauty of the school in pictures.Dad always knew a boarding school was the place for me to build character,be independent and lead life on my own terms.The reason for him to think so,was obvious, for he was in a hostel when he was young as well.

Then came the day,

The day,when I had to join the school arrived.We,the four of us,took the train,the yercaud express which now is a testimony to my school journeys.We got to the school,and then to the cot allocated for me in the dormetry. Mom spread my bed,arranged my cupboard and said "this is how it should stay when I come over next time".My sister was speechless and saw the proceedings with some bitterness in leaving me there for she wouldnt have someone to fight with back home.I began to know life was not going to be a joy ride,ironical to what I taught, it was going to be, when I heard it the first time.

My dad spoke to the warden Brother Simon."My son is for you to take care of".For me it had more meaning than what English language had taught me.Tears locked my eyes.I tried my best not to cry when my parents were there.They bid bye with kisses.I couldn't hide my tears.

The moment they left I went into a room where all new comers were,cried out for the first time in life for a reason more significant than a chocolate.I had got all my lessons of LOVE then, at the age of 7.

Studies were always better with head knocks and pinches than with silence in a classroom.Cricket was always better on a house opposite mine than big open playfield.Waking up with mom's alarm at 7 am to catch the school bus on 7.20 am was always better than a 5.45 siren in the dormetry and a 6 o'clock cane whack for a 6.30 morning study.

Amid all the home sickness I had in my 3 years stay at monfort,I must say I learnt to be independent as my dad envisaged I would.I learnt to keep time with the routine in place.I knew how to fold my clothes,cook noodles with just hot water and manage the pocket money given to me.My mom needn't be there for my bath anymore.I always kept my cupboard neat,earned a prize for the 'cleanest cupboard in the dormetry'  as well.I learnt to FAIL in exams without having no body to recite to.I had the food shared with 7 other people in the table.Table manners came along.If I can speak english now,i learnt it there back in montfort.

If any memories of montfort ever linger,it will be me wanting to skip the swimming classes on a wednesday afternoon with intense cold temperatures of an hill station.I dreaded that until I learnt swimming during the summer vacations of the ninth standard.Another close memory is the letters I wrote to my parents every sunday morning.Dad told me he has them treasured more than the money he has with him today.But,its a pity he hasn't shown me them. I would love to see it sometime again after decades.

The weekly English movies,the prize night,the sports days,the sunday morning walk to the Sacred heart high school, all remains fresh till date.I had my cousin there for company as he joined me there for his fifth standard.I studied till 5th standard there until the hill climate in yercaud decided to cut short my stay in montfort throwing me ill with spells of chicken pox and jaundice.

Its a faint memory I have of my friends there.I caught up with one close montfort friend Niranjan Raj after exactly ten years on facebook.Talking to him was really nostalgic.Looking forward to catch up with others if it so happens.

The dawn to dusk from age 7 to 10 has made me cry for home sickness,made me count days for me to get back home but looking back, those days have shaped me as an individual whom I am now.Cry,love and self stays the way those days had defined them.To those days I treasure, I dedicate this blog of mine to.

cheers,

nagappstheblogger!!!