Growing Pains & Pleasures

This was written a long time ago (on 30th Dec, 2003), as part of an email discussion, I was having with some of my close family about childhood memories....

The ease with which and the joy with which we are able to revel in the past is truly great. Contrary to superficial indications, there is an underlying theme of joy in each person's recollection. The encapsulated memories are just amazing and the most beautiful thing about them is that we all relate to them. Joys partaken and sorrows shared.

I cannot but help pen down some of mine...

I remember at the Indian Airlines Colony at Kalina, as a 3 year old, running after Amma in the morning, begging her to stay at home, right up to the gate of the colony. I feel now the pain she must have felt when she insisted on having to go to work on those days.

I remember us going to Hotel Horizon as a family to swim on weekends and how Murali and Umesh used to be at the deep end and I stuck at the shallow and how one day, Appa saw me upset and took me on his shoulders and carried me all the way to the deep end. I realise now how selfless this was, given that Appa could not swim and not too fond of water, especially because of a problem in his ear.

I remember being 10 years old and not yet having learnt to cycle. In desperation, I would go to the shop at Juhu Galli and rent a cycle and try to learn to ride, too proud to ask anyone to help and kept falling. So much that I would give up after about 15-20 minutes and then I would let the other children from the colony, who could ride to have a go. One day, Murali came down from home on his way to School or College and asked me what was wrong, and when I told him, he got my cycle from the other guy and spent the next half hour running after me making sure I learnt to cycle that day. I distinctly remember that day as the time when I learnt to cycle and realise that Murali probably was very late for whatever he was going to.

I remember crying when Umesh (about 6 at the time) went missing at Santa cruz station and then again when he went to Dharwad to study engineering. I recall sitting on the terrace of a hotel in Kathmandu and Umesh taking me through the lyrics of what was to be the first english language song I ever sung. A stupid ABBA song that went -'I'd never know, why I had to go, why I had to put up such a lousy rotten show....'. I acquired from Umesh, my passion for reading, quizzes and my general competitive streak. Umesh often played a Louis Cosset Jr. to my Richard Gere ( by that I mean, 'the provoke to elicit the most passionate reponse approach') in a myriad of fields, especially Cricket.


From Kannanmama, I have learnt so many things - dedication to the task at hand, always complete what you start, attention to detail, think the problem through etc. However, the most important lesson I learnt from him was that nice guys are not weak guys. I recall as a
lad of 13-14 years walking along Vile Parle station road at around 10 PM with Kannan mama and we witnessed a scuffle, where about 7-8 guys were beating up one fellow with bamboo poles, quite mercilessly. Needless to say the streets quickly emptied out and I was absolutely petrified. Kannan mama was the only one in the whole street with enough guts to be able to shout at the guys and tell them to stop, which is when they stopped beating him and ran away. I also remember an incident that Murali told us about kannanmama, when they had gone to play cricket somewhere and Kannanmama had got so angry with someone who was cheating that he puched one of his teeth out.

Kannanmama - I am not trying to paint you in a bad light. I am only trying to highlight an image of yours that many in our family today may not know or indeed may have forgotten, because the nice guy image of yours is so over-powering.

In a lot of ways, I did have a very privileged childhood and did not go through the many pains and perils, some of you have gone through and for that I thank you all.