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Happy Days of Long Ago

 My school days ended long, long ago. Those were days when there were fish in the rivers, birds in the trees, and oxygen in the air. Now one of the two rivers in my village is almost a drain and the other washes all the filth dumped on its banks every day by Development [Sabka Vikas, Sabka Saath - like Delhi Police, Always With You]. The birds have vanished except a couple of crows that come to drink water from my cats' plates occasionally. Food is not much of a problem for them since a lot of garbage lies piled up on roadsides. I miss those dragonflies and fireflies with which I held conversations long, long ago.

Those were days when people went to temples, mosques or churches and came out feeling compassion for other creatures. At least without hatred in hearts. They didn't bother about Akbar or Macaulay. If a Narendran saw a Hyderali in need on the roadside, he would rush to help. Gods weren't bloodthirsty in those days.

Viswanathan, Muhammadkutty and I sat on the same bench in school and merrily recited Ulloor's lines about love being the driving force of the planet. We were in class 8. Romance was longing to dance in our hearts. But romance was forbidden. Moral police flourished in those days too though not as diabolically as now. Love was divine while romance was devilish except for those who wielded the powers. We, the little students, were not even expected to throw as much as a furtive glance at the other side of the classroom where the girls sat. 

But Elsa (not her real name) had entered my heart furtively. Without her knowledge, probably, though our eyes were trapped in wistful gazes more frequently than the catechism lessons would ever permit. I wrote love letters that were never delivered to Elsa. Viswanathan delivered them to Vanaja.

One day Viswanathan caught me writing a love letter. All my love letters were inspired by Vayalar's movie songs which our battery-run transistor played whenever father decided to listen to the radio. I wrote about the fish that swam in the deep pools of Elsa's eyes. My love letters expressed my longing to build a Taj Mahal with the marble of my ossified dreams. 

Adolescent and romantic (foolish?)

Viswanathan threatened to publicise my love songs. Elsa's name was not mentioned in any of them. But I would be flogged anyway for daring to rush in where the devils would fear to tread. Viswanathan suggested a compromise. "Write similar letters for me to give to Vanaja."  

I don't know whether Vanaja allowed Viswan to tread into/upon her heart. I don't know where Elsa is now. I never met any of them since 1975. Do they long, like me, for the simple goodness that prevailed in those days? Do they long for fish in the rivers and oxygen in the air and the dragonflies on flowers?

No, I don't want to go back to those days ever. I love my present with its mobile phone with the internet. I love the virtual reality today, the distance given by that virtual reality between you and me. Proximity is dangerous in our present world. You don't know when someone will drive in a knife behind your back. In those good ol' days, people attacked from the front if at all they attacked. 

PS. This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop of

www.theblogchatter.com


Comments

  1. Hari OM
    Ah, nostalgia... a Utopian place even though we know it as imperfect! I am still in touch with a handful of childhood pals; we all remember differently the same things (if at all we remember). To each their own Utopia and to each, their Hell... YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It wasn't Utopia really. That's why I said I didn't want to return. I know the past is not history but a fabrication of our imaginations and longings.

      Delete
  2. Nicely woven past. Acche Din was in the past.

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  3. Gods weren't bloodthirsty in those days. - what a line. My friends and I often say we were lucky we were in school in the before social media era. Classmates are cruel enough without the social proof or validation.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Today in one of my classes (12),in connection with the lesson, I asked whether the world would be a better place in future. No was the instant and unanimous response. The young students think we're making it worse and worse. Happy days are really gone.

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  4. You are a wonderful writer, TM! This was such a brilliant read, wrapped up in nostalgia, longing and beautiful memories.
    Mayuri/Sirimiri

    ReplyDelete
  5. In our childhood, when we met someone and asked their name, we never made a connection with their religion. Sadly, it's different now. Our religious and ethnic identities are more under scrutiny today.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's a tragic situation. People are so suspicious of each other now because of religion whereas the purpose of religion is just the opposite.

      Delete
  6. This post is a wonderful read, written with your usual dose of sarcasm! :)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Memoirs are always fun to read. I enjoyed this one too. A nice picture you have posted too!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This is the earliest pic of mine I could find in my collection.

      Delete
  8. Yes, I agree that the old days were truly better than today. Evety era some postives and negatives to its credit.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Entropy is the law here and evil will only increase.

      Delete

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