It kicks off
when you are barley a few months old – People wind you up for no reason. At
times they do not know they are doing it, while at others, it is just plain
absurdity.
Imagine
this scenario.
You are a gurgling
infant - just a few months old – in swaddling clothes, feeling all hot and bothered-
at times you have a stomachache. Your nappy is wet or often, probably soiled-
there are all sorts of fancy items hanging all round your bassinet and there is
your uncle or aunt , smiling into your face, waving a noisy rattle, and saying,
“clap hands for mama’’, while other relatives look on, and try to fathom out if
you are deaf, blind or just plain dumb.
Now if that
is not winding you up, then what is?
It may be
slightly exaggerated, but you get the point, don’t you?
As a kid
and then as a young adult, I have had my fair share of winding up.
Here is the
next.
We lived in
a sort of joint family so there were a few adults at home, besides my two cousins.
Am sitting at home, minding my business, and
getting on with my life- then friends arrive – theirs not mine!
I suppose,
after the adults got bored and had nothing more to discuss, and no one else to
gossip about (and who doesn’t gossip) the topic of the kids came up. I had two
female cousins and that complicated the equation.
“Where are
the kids – everything is so quiet. Get them to say a poem or something for us-
they are so sweet”.
Hearing something
to that effect was enough to charge me up.
I would try
and slip out of the house unannounced, before the ‘call came’, in vain.
Now my cousins, who I always felt were rather vain,
loved to entertain, and being the pretty little girls that they were, they were
often the centre of attraction. So, we would be lined up, which for me was like
facing a firing squad - and then the poems would begin. I was usually the last,
but I would recite a poem just to get the wretched thing over and done with. The two girls would bow, smile and curtesy cutely, before and after reciting,
and were hugged, kissed and clapped for,
while I would get a “that was nice Michael ” comment.
Just as I
would surmise that the ordeal was over, I would hear “what about a song”. “come
on- give us a song”
Now I had a
good voice, and I knew it, but by then my mood would be off,- singing and
entertaining others, would be the last thing on my mind. I would rather be
playing outside with my friends who I could hear, were enjoying themselves . However,
that was not to be.
Now here is
something I just remembered, and pardon the diversion.
I had got my mid- term report card that very day
and had not yet shown it to my mother as the results were not flattering – in fact,
they were far from satisfactory. It was a “Red card”,which signified that I had
failed! I had tucked it away, and was avoiding any conversation of school,
studies, homework, books, tests, or results, till I fathomed out what to do
with it.
I will tell you that story someday.
So back to
my original story- the guests, and one of them was a teacher who taught me,
were not satisfied with the poem & were in the mood to hear us sing. As was
expected to happen, after the tea, snacks and chatting was over, the entertainment
industry at home went into overdrive.
“Get the
kids to sing” was what I heard.
Without so
much as a ‘by your leave’, I vamoosed into the compound, but before I could make
my hurried escape, I was called back.
Now imagine
the scenario and my plight.
I had been trying to keep a low profile all
day – in fact, I had spent more time out of the house than in, and had been on
my best behaviour- running errands, making the beds, helping tidy up, washing
cups, making the tea etc. Now- not only was there was a teacher seated in the hall,
but he taught me Mathematics, and was also my class teacher. That is not all- I
had flunked in Math and Hindi, and he had signed the report card. As such, he
had all the details at his fingertips. Now do not get me wrong – he was a very nice
man,all gentle and unassuming ,but sometimes, even nice men speak when not actually
asked to and I had a premonition tat would happen.
So, once
again, let me get back to the original story.
The three
of us lined up and each sang a song. My cousins, as usual, sang before me. The
also danced while singing, swayed to the rhythm and also did a duet without
being asked to, as they were often over excited.
I still remember
the name of the song – it was “Sisters” .
The words
went something like this.
“Sisters, sisters, there were never such
devoted sisters”.
Whenever
they sang that song, I would stand at the back of the room , and make funny
faces and actions to mock them! They hated me doing that and complained
bitterly. It made no difference to me.
Then, finally
it was my turn. I sang a song and imagined that was the end, but it was not to
be. Here were some of the comments.
‘’ Why didn’t
you smile Michael’’?
‘’You’re so
stiff my boy ‘’
‘’See how
nicely your cousins danced while singing’’?
“Sing again
for aunty and uncle and Sir”.
I felt like
pulling my cousins’ hair out for overdoing their part, but it was now their
turn to laugh, tease and giggle. So, I had to sing another song, smile, and
sway along to the best of my ability. It
was unadulterated torture.
By now I
was really wound up and wished that a hole opened up in the ground before me,
and swallowed me whole.
Then Murphy’s
law kicked in, and it was the icing on the cake. The teacher in all his wisdom looked
at me and said, “So Michael, what did mummy and aunty think of your report card this time ? ”.
He added
some more pearls of wisdom, “You must study hard during this summer vacation,if
not you will fail at the end of the year”
Needless to add, all hell broke loose
thereafter, and the evening did not end well but that is another story.
As I grew
into my teen years, I remember accompanying the adults in the family to parties
and dances. Now I was rather shy and would have preferred to stay at home and
listen to the radio or read. Yes, there were no mobile phones, computers, or
television sets back then! But no – I had to dress up and tag along much to my
annoyance.
Then came
the usual comments from silly adults at the show as they danced past me –
‘’ Come on
Mike - Get up and dance”.
“There are
so many pretty girls sitting down – don’t be a stick in the mud”.
“Don’t let
good music go to waste young man”.
“Stop behaving
so badly- so many people are asking you to dance”( from my mother )
To say that
adults wound me up often would be putting it mildly.
However, thinking
back now, decades later, I presume that unintentional winding up (which I
believe it was) stood me in good stead as an adult .
People have
tried to wind me up and failed miserably in the attempt- for that I must thank
all those who irritated me over the years!
God bless
their good souls.
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