Till my uncle from Mumbai visited us, no one at home probably thought of enrolling me in a school. Maybe they thought I was too bright or too dumb to gain anything by going to school at that age. Anyhow, my uncle had made up his mind and decided to take me to a school. He may have got me admitted. But I had the last laugh. I refused to go to school walking and indicated that I’d consider it if a rickshaw was arranged. Since the family didn’t want to commit to a higher expense just to keep me occupied, the plan was shelved.
I don’t remember how or when, but remember that I was taken to the Principal who ran a tutorial college attached to a preschool. The radio in his office was playing ‘Allah Allah’ song, sung by M S Viswanathan in his metallic voice. I have heard that song and liked it. So, I didn’t throw tantrums at his office. Little did I realize that the event was just to enroll me in that ‘school’.
The next few months were traumatic - for my family, especially the school/college-going cousins and brother. They had the big responsibility of taking me to the school. If you were in Trichy around that time, you might have heard of a helpless girl or a boy dragging a crying toddler on Nandi Koil Street. I was told that I was that famous.
In the few months I was in that school, many teachers came and disappeared. Too many for that single class of about 15 kids. There were a few Anglo Indians and one Indian teacher. The Ayah probably remained the same as she was also paid by the parents for ensuring the kids ate their lunch and for dropping off the kids at home. The Ayah played a big role in maintaining the traditions of our family.
I was and am fond of sweets. Pumpkin cooked in jaggery was my favorite food item. One day, during lunchtime, I happened to see something that looked like pumpkin in jaggery in a classmate’s lunch box. It looked more interesting than the usual pumpkin. I had seen pumpkin in jaggery before, but that was the first time I saw the food also looking at me. I insisted that I was given that item. The Ayah bluntly refused and insisted that the food I was referring to was fish and I’m not supposed to be given fish. The traditions were maintained and she saved me from guilty consciousness later in my life.
Since my fame had saturated at Nandi Koil Street, my family decided to put me in a school in the Nangavaram store. Instead of my cousins, it was my brother’s responsibility to drag me to school. My tantrums didn’t have much impact on him; he has compliance in his blood. He went on to become a Charted Accountant.
The school was friendly and sleepy. There were enough items to stay distracted there - the tree right in the middle of the class, the lizards in the tree, cobwebs, spiders, kids in the next class who I can poke with a twig. Sleeping wasn’t formalized but wasn’t a crime in the class.
Some examination happened; I had scored 28 on 100 and was glad to see big numbers on the slate. I happily waved it all the way home. Everyone smiled and I felt good. That’s probably when I realized that being happy matters more - even if I was mediocre.
