By: John Basho Pou
When I heard of late, that a high school friend of mine got a highly-paid job in a MNC’s call centre, I remember those old fine days we shared in our school boarding. He was a shaky, bonny and timid student then, who hardly broke the commandments set for us, especially the rule of language. Although he was a back-bencher, he has all confidence whenever he was on stage and speaks in public. And his spontaneous flow of English speaking and correct phonetic was our jealousy. And he always got lion’s share of attention all around. Often, we concluded that his tongue was made different. And that’s in-born gift, that no practice how hard it may be, can never equal him. Some boys even laughed at him when he looked into a mirror and always read, “She sells sea shells on the sea shore”. But now he laughs to the bank, reaping the fruits of being an obedient and rule keeper while in school when many of us are still trying to improve our English.
“Speak nothing, but only English in the Boarding premises, do you get me?” warned our dark Warden from Kerela, on the first night we checked in school boarding where I was caged for 6 years. And ‘rule of language’ was my allergy, and I often broke, and faced music with a big placard with an inscription “Hello I’m Donkey, Mr. Donkey”. Irritatingly, that Donkey was even bigger than my own build-up. And funnily, I’ll have to carry it along to schools, at work place, in the volley ball ground where I smashed the ball with that donkey on my bonny chest, except during bedtime. Another worst thing is that, I’ll have to write 5000 lines of “I’ll speak only English in the Boarding premises”. And that too, with two pens at a time, and in between my blistered fingers. That’s not enough. As a penalty, I’ll have to find another four names of who broke the rule of language.
Cut to the way how I trapped 6 persons red-handed on the last day, and all in pairs. Br.Nicholas, our charcoaled-warden from Kerala, well-known for his famous swollen-dark lips, never knew that boys can communicate with each other via songs laced with local dialogue. What he did? He sings along with naughty boys, and often asked for its meaning. But our boys never interpret what the song means. That’s how our boys often did and never get caught.
After so many attempts to get some boys who broke the rule, I eavesdropped two giant boys who always talked to each other singing in folk tunes. But no boy can dare give their names. And as other small boys usually find it difficult to catch its meaning as it very complicating, and tongue-punishing, the two old Giants, looking older than their age, and who sit in a very low grade, took advantage of it. While pruning garden vegetables after the class, they resumed the same formulae. And I gathered all my courage, and wrote their names down.
Many think toilets are meant for discharging human excretion. But in my Boarding days, toilets are also meant for relishing eatables or goodies illegally smuggled in from parents home. As I run in to the toilet to get immediate relief from drum-beats of my stomach, I heard some kind of murmuring voice, very softly, from the next room. Tom-peeping through a tiny hole on the wall I saw two hungry boys looking into each other’s eyes and silently attacking dry meat sent from home just after transplantation festival. Seeing them feasting on those delicious fleshy pieces of cooked meat, my mouth start to water asking for a bit or two. As I keep watching the two hungry foxes, the painful canes of Br.Nicholas suddenly flashed on my mind. And I know for sure that if I don’t get 6 names within the dateline, I will face the ordeal. Slowly I retreat from the toilet with their names.
The night before my dateline seemed very short. The wall clock ticks even faster. And my heart pumped like hell as I have to submit the names the next day. And then it was time for Holy Rosary, the most boring every day routine job for many boys, I saw a boy who is too young to learn those birds and bees, start to inscroll a Lover Letter with a smile, in a corner, while others were busy reciting and counting the Rosary beaths. My heart jumped to the roof seeing him. “Be cool, Buddy, you are the 5th prey on my list”, I said to my self, jotting down his name hurriedly.
When the light was put off for sleep that night for sleep, I was gasping for air as I have still one left to be found, I hear our dormitory filled with noises of snoring, howling, gassing, turning and tossing every where in the dormitory. In the dark, and among the noises, I set out for the last strike reciting ‘Hail Mary’ on my lips in the dark, As I tip-toed about the room, from bed to bed, I heard a noise of sleep-talking some where in a corner. I crawled closer to him, controlling my breath with great care, and keep my nose on the edge of his bed. But he stopped talking and started snoring as if he heard my presence. “Damn you”, I said, taking another deep breath. “Be patient. No retreat”, my other half said. So I waited for another sleep-talk. Suddenly he kicked my nose in sleep, and begun to speak out in local dialect, “Give me extra rice. Give me burnt rice. Is there anyone out there who has?” Feeling the pain on my nose, I almost slap him. But I said to him, “Ok buddy. Be cool. Tomorrow, Br.Nicholas will give you extra rice. And you shall ask no more”. I went to my bed holding my nose, and smiling “what a kick before I sleep! What a catch!”
Kangla Online
