A day from my childhood

It was a hot summer day in New Delhi in May 1982. The mercury had soared up to 37 degrees. I could feel the sweat rolling down my head onto my face and further down to my chest through my already wet shirt. The 5 minutes walk from school back home felt like a marathon of 5 hours.

I was only 11 years old and it was a routine thing for me to argue with my mother about there being no cold water in our house as there was no fridge in our house at that time. The water in the hand made clay container was presumably cold but not for me. I think it was just a little less hot than the water in any other container. Running water from the tap would have been a bit better but the supply was restricted only to an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening. This used to be time when everybody who was in the house had a duty to fill any container available in the house with water after having a quick shower.

I reached home and knocked at the backdoor because that was the door we mainly used rather than the front door. The back door was an old wooden frame with some light weight metal net running across the frame. Our house was part of a very old building built by the British. My mom must have opened the door within a few seconds but felt like an unnecessary delay on her part. She should have kept it open already as she knew what time I will be back. The heat was unbearable.

Life never seemed interesting at that time of the day not only because it was the hottest time of the day but also because I had just got too much homework to do. On top of that I was exhausted. I put my school bag on one side and my shoes and uniform on the other. It usually was not a case of changing but just taking the uniform off. My head was going round and round in the wake of the heat and all that I wanted was to have some cold water to quench my thirst.

Mom would never let me drink cold water for the first few minutes after my return from school as it was too dangerous to drink cold water right after walking in the blow of hot and humid winds.

So, I had to wait. Something which was impossible had to be done. The dire physical consequences were described to me a few times to keep me at a bay from cold water or water at all.

After a long wait of around two minutes I attacked the tumbler and gobbled down all of the water in it. It did not seem sufficient so had another one. This made me feel better.

Now when some thirst had been quenched it was time to satisfy my hunger. My angel mother was ready to give me some delicious chapattis with vegetables and curd. It could be war like situation if the sabzi (vegetable) was not of my choice or if dahi (yoghurt) was not thick enough. The kitchen was the first room on the right as we entered the house (from the back door).

My dad’s reading/eating table was right in front of the back door leaning against the wall between the two doors leading to two rooms; living room through the door on the left of that wall and bedroom through the door on the right of that wall; the wall which accommodated the table. The kitchen was a complete right turn. I went in and sat on a small hand woven rug. The heat of the flame of the angithi (home made clay oven – generally made out of a metal bucket) resting on the floor could be felt from a distance but mom was sitting just next to it relentlessly. After having finished my lunch quickly I came out of the kitchen and headed straight to the bed for a nap for an hour or so. The ceiling fan was running at number 5, the maximum speed possible and was also making a rattling noise which did not seem to matter. This was heaven now.

By the time I woke up from my nap a cooler evening popped in with the grace of the setting sun. I could hear the noises of children playing outside in the ground. I could also hear a distant voice of the ice cream seller who used to come dragging his hand pushed cart with icy blue stripes all around its white surface full of ice creams in an ice cooled compartment. My favourite was the milky ice cream which used to sell at 25 paise. I did not think I would have got it that day so did not ask for it. I could not wait. Got dressed quickly as one of my friends will soon be shouting my name outside and I did not want to be held responsible for any delay in start of the play. After being permitted by mom I quickly went out with a smile on my face. I did not know what we were going to play that day. It could be cricket, chupan chupai, pakram pakrai, maaram pitti, pithu, gilli danda…or something else.

While I was still playing, I could see my sister on the edge of the playground coming back from her office walking towards our house. It must be around 6 pm and I knew I will soon be called in. After my name being shouted at least 3 or 4 times I was compelled to go inside the house. A quick snack was followed by a reminder to do my homework which was the worst thing to do. I hated it, always. But somehow, I had to do it, generally with my sister’s help. She was very kind and very strict. It was amazing the way she could effectively portray both these characteristics at the same time. She had all the power to handle me affectionately or otherwise as appropriate.

At last the home work was finished and I had a sigh of relief. Now was the time to watch some tv which will not last long as the broadcasting would be stopped soon. Tv did not use to be 24 hours a day but only about a couple of hours every evening. And there was only one channel. But it was much more powerful entertainment source than today’s 24x7 hundreds of channels.

Soon my brother appeared from somewhere. I was the youngest of all. It was great fun always to have him around. He was usually quite engaged in his own stuff as he was older than me. He and his friends were a different group than me and my friends. I remember his attendance at college was not usually very good which annoyed my dad. Just like me he was also not very keen on studies. On study front I believe we somehow used to manage. But for me he always was my big brother who helped me as much as he could. I still remember one day he came to my school and asked the teacher if he could take me with him at the end of half day because there were some important things at house and took me to our local cinema and we watched a popular bollywood movie of that time. This was great!

It was soon night time and it used to be a story telling time even at the age of 11 because childhood used to last much longer those days than today. I now wish if those days could come back. I think I quite miss them. Today, I have my own happy family but I miss the happy family of my mom and dad of which I was a part!!!