But for the death of my father, my school days, up to standard 6 were smooth and happy.
There were plenty of cousins as friends at ammath at Naruvakulangara. Climbing the mango tree was a favourite pastime. After reaching the top, I felt nervous, but refused to show it. Slowly, when I came down, I felt a relief which I still recall !
Once I climbed up a small areca nut tree near a pond in front of the open portico, where grandfather used to sit in his easy chair, which is seldom seen these days, with a fan in hand.
When I reached the half way mark, the tree started swinging widely and wildly. I clutched it firmly and in a few seconds it became steady. Grandfather, who was watching me, became angry and began scolding me. Somehow, I came down and was still shaking with fear.
There were half a dozen children for meals. We will be coming from the ground where we were playing. Grandmother would place a pan full of water and ask us to wash our hands one by one. By the time we all wash hands, the water would turn muddy.
“See”, she would say. We would all sit on the cement floor, in front of plantain leaves and eat with our hands.
The Karayogam School has two sections, one Malayalam and the other Samskrutham. The head master of the latter, one Elayath, quite elderly with bald head and slight body, would remove his shirt and spread it over a plant to dry the sweat. He was a great scholar and very gentle in nature. His assistant was exactly the opposite. He used to beat his pupils till blood came out. There were only a few students, all in their teens, in Samskrutham division, because of this man named Damodaran Nambiar.
The Head Master of our school was Ramayyar, who was always busy making pay bills for the whole school staff. His daughter, a bright eyed, curly haired beauty was always looking at me which made me uncomfortable. I hated her for this simple reason.
Once she came in my dream, recently. We went on talking and felt a joy I never knew before.
The feeling of loss, on waking up was great.
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