life is beautiful – the beginning – II

after receiving good remarks from some of the readers for the previous post in “life is beautiful” series, here i am back with another post earlier than planned. this particular post starts with few incidents i remember from my childhood specially the ones which include my parents.

often my friends ask me about the scar i have above my right eye which cut through my eyebrow as well, how did you get it? did you get in a fight? sometimes, i just play game and smile back to them as if their speculation are true. come on guys, i don’t get into a physical fight so easily. i am a man with strong temperament and a very sharp eye for future consequences of any event (though i still screw up things myself sometimes ).

i have very faint memories about how it happened, still, i do remember that evening when i was roaming with dad and komal uncle, probably we were coming back from polo ground after dad’s football practice or after the evening chaupal which is the equivalent of bc meetings for engineers :d

oh, by the way – did i tell you or not about his soccer skills – he has been a legend and i think still is, at-least for those who have heard the story of his soccer days. i remember it as back of my hand; an evening of   2001,  most of the guys from my cricket practice team didn’t turn up. so we decided to mix up with local soccer team and played some football for a couple of hours as we usually used to do when there was no cricket.

little did i know that it was the last day i would play soccer ever, i exactly remember that during warm up i was in the midfield and trying to shoot the football into the goal post, it was total disaster and absurd. i would never reach to the goal with a fierce speed and mostly was off target. my kicks didn’t have enough power – credit it to my laziness to run, i have never had strong legs though my shoulders have been pretty strong; eh not presently though (i am planning to work on my entire body now).

and somebody shouted at me,”what the hell are you doing? you are bringing shame to your father’s name. he would pierce the goal from three quarters of the field, he would hit the side post from midfield after announcing which side would he hit and here you are not even close to his shadows.”

i felt proud hearing all that and ashamed as i was ruining his name. even though i used to play soccer only once in a blue moon but since that day i never played it again. i stuck to my cricket and did fairly well until i reached to hostel where i was not even 20% of my usual cricketing self . i lost the interest, the zeal, the passion i had for the game.

back to my scar story; we were close to the home and just had to cross a small street, i held dad’s finger and left my entire weight on it while i tried to swing as a 2+ years old kid would do. midway in the street i did the most stupidest thing in my life i could ever do, even now – i left my dad’s hand, i let it go.

and the very next moment i fell as my gravity center was dis-balanced. while trying to recover i spun and hit right side of my head a on the edge of a rectangular concrete block’s which was on the left side. this is why i never let go anyone, i promise; i won’t let go.

this kind of block is normally used for electrification in villages. you might have seen one. first dad thought that it was a simple fall as i used to fell a lot in my childhood. but as soon as he saw me bleeding he rushed home, picked his bicycle and took me to dr jha’s clinic at a super fast speed. i was given few stitches which left the scar and a couple of injections.

you see, i have kind of yarana with doctors and hospitals – may be this is the reason of my strong abilities to withstand physical pain and bare hospitals and doctors and various cutting and sewing instruments. i love the sweet pain of the needle and enjoy the blood donation. you might not believe but that’s the best part of it, the pain of needles, it stays for almost a week .

normally, i am considered as a guy with utmost simplicity who wouldn’t disturb others since even my childhood by my relatives. little do they know about me, ask my parents. i would wake up mom or dad in the night for water. here comes the funny part : mostly, i needed water from a specific pot in a specific tumbler.

sometimes, i won’t drink it as i wish to drink fresh water out of the tape and at others i need still water out of the pot. if they try to fool me, i would straight away put a question “it didn’t sound that you poured it from the pot or took it out of tap, respectively.” i realize now, how dumb was that, waking up them in midnight for water and throwing all tantrums….he he

mom would get irate at times but dad understood my childish nature. it’s not that mom didn’t love me but she was too engrossed after the household work and bit raged when i break her sleep; she hardly used to get time to sleep than. i think that’s why she makes up for that now. i think, i got my – understanding nature as strongly observed by girls i have been close to- from my dad.

dad and mom both would get irate because of my habit of speaking out of turn and jumping into any conversation (dad taught me reading when i was less than 2 years old and i got the habit of reading the news paper first thing in the morning which i continued till i left for my so called good career) by the time i was 3 i was fluent in it and started to develop my own thought flow and thinking prowess.

i would often come up with questions, no one could answer. i would have my own thoughts on almost all the topics which i get to read in dainik jagran. i would intervene in any and all talks my dad would have with his friends. i had my own opinion of things. but daddy and his friends would find it obtrusive and unnecessary for a kid to jump into a conversation.

soon, i started to get scoldings which grew in nature and stature with my habit of peeking. soon, i had to give it up. it was wrong, come on guys i was just a kid and i was brilliant. how many kids have you seen who would do so? alas, my best gift (speaking prowess) was taken away from me. they would say talk with your friends. but i had none, of  that intellectual level in my friend circle.

actually, i hardly were friend with anyone before i met people in college life. and at that time i was way below my natural potential and i found them all above me and suffered a heavy loss in my confidence level. thanks to some part of my college life and few great friends in my seniors, juniors, batch-mates, my well-wishers and girls in my life and after-wards my life at itc i gained back some of it.

prats have often said this that i was a changed person when i came back from college, i was more expressive and jovial. it was all about my confidence level. i will write about it and the reasons she finds me more chilled over chat in detail when the time comes for it.

finally, i remember very clearly when daddy took me to my first school first time on my first day. i am a product of rotary international’s local branch in my village. it was not at all a fancy place and i say with great pain that i could have had better schooling if only there were any good schools in the city. there were none so my father decided to educate me in low-profile schools and keeping a sharp eye and leash on me and let me grow up under his wings.

it didn’t work out due to my rebellious nature, more about it when i explain how things worsen after my high-school result were out and i gave up in increased pressure and lost my natural self only to turn into a less than ordinary student from an extraordinary one; truly – i was born intelligent but education system ruined me .

to come back to my first day school, dad took me on his bicycle and left near the school gate and convinced me that things would be fine and i should go on to the school. it being new place for me i hesitated at first as i always do but soon settled down as i always do. but it was easy than expected because i was prepared for it and my dad groomed me for it super quick and extra-specially..

to be continued….