M - Hop-scotch

Another page from my diary, July 23, 2004

With the stream of the morning's sunlight, day beckons for a start.
Movements all the way down the tick tock lane, time spinning the thread
of the twenty four hours to complete my day. Time is not "Bound", free
from any sort of manacles. If Time could speak it would shout in every
human ear, "I am the master of my game and you are my slave". Lavishly
correct, isn't it? Do you believe me? I can't wait for your answer as I
have to complete my journal and present it before you. The answer is
the aftermath.

July has stepped in leaving behind June. Months, some complete their
round in thirty days, others having thirty one days. Poor February,
having given a term of twenty eight days for three consecutive years,
makes a leap in the fourth year, adds a day to its account and calls it
a Leap Year.

Month of June, Lord Indra (the Hindu rain god) gets His chance to rule
the domain, the sky. Surya Devta (the Sun god) has been heavy on us
throughout the summer days and months; been unkind and harsh to the
people of this country, not even sparing the water bodies ?the rivers,
the lakes, the ponds, the wells and others. What a belly He has,
managed to drink up huge quantities of water leaving behind parched
lands and water crisis for the people to suffer from. Human souls,
finding no other means to get away from the blaring heat, start praying
to God Indra to come to their rescue. Then steps Indra, draped in his
dark gown of clouds rides across the sky in his chariot, drops of rain
touch the earth to quench its thirst, sometimes bringing with it
thunder and lightning. Every year Indra gets his chance to rule over
the sky for a quarter of a year. During His reign, there are floods in
many parts of the country causing havoc, irreparable loss of human life
and property. Grumbling starts again and there is word all around that
Indra should move away and let Surya Devta take hold of the reins. The
raincoats, umbrellas, rubber shoes, could at least come out of their
hideouts because of the rainy season, happy at the thought that at
least they have some importance in the lives of men, women and
children. No one wants a continuous pissing sky. Surya Devta is once
again at work, this time with an empty belly. He is back with soft and
mild touch of colds days to follow. But He is in the habit of getting
harsher as days and months fly past, winter giving way to summer to act
like a brute. A very simple way of telling the 'Cycle of the Seasons'?
Do you agree? This year flood has showed its ugly face in the state of
Bihar and Assam, all because of the fury of the Ganga and Brahmaputra.
But some parts of this country is still praying and waiting for the
dark black clouds to form and come down as rain.

Another hop and I am here to share a little bit of History with you.
The Moghul rulers ruled over India prior to British Raj. The Taj Mahal,
standing on the banks of river Yamuna in the city of Agra was built by
Emperor Shah Jahan in the fond memory of his wife Mumtaz Mahal. Among
the Moghul rulers Akbar was known as "Akbar the Great". Akbar had the
Nav Ratnas (the Nine Jewels) in his court. Among them was Mia Tan Sen,
the greatest musician of Akbar's court. It is believed, when Tan Sen
sang Raga Malahar (a raga of Indian classical music), there was so much
power in his music that he could please the Rain god and bring rain to
earth. Indian classical music has a stand of its own. If you have not
come to India and planning for a holiday, can take a chance to come
here, see the Taj Mahal and other beautiful places and of course the
nice people here. Not exaggerating at all (Smiles).

Let me move a step forward as I don't want to sit here like a hen
sitting on the eggs to hatch. I am in a mood to move ahead on the fast
track and reach the touchline. Superstitions and beliefs, so much space
they occupy in the hearts of most of the Indians. While travelling, if
a cat crosses in front of you it is believed to be inauspicious. I give
it a positive nod as this has been true with me on an occasion or two.
A mirror having had a fall manages to get a crack, elders say "don't
look into a fractured mirror', the reason still unknown to me. I stick
to the elders 'saying' for fear looms in my mind, maybe a psychological
effect. Sneezing, how bad is it. If you are going out through the front
door and someone sneezes behind you. Superstitious beliefs say, 'don't
go, sit down for a couple of minutes and then move'. If I go on telling
you about superstitions and beliefs, this will cover up a chapter.
Today I am hopping around, may be the effect of the title.

Till now I have been hopping about from one place to another.
Hop-scotch, it's all about hops and jumps. Those were the days of
pigtails when I played hop-scotch. The rules of this game are simple.
With my friends K, P, R and M, how we enjoyed the game. We drew the big
rectangle, something like four feet broad and about seven feet long.
This rectangle was subdivided into six sub divisions cutting off the
length at about an imaginary one foot or more. There was never perfect
accuracy in drawing these straight geometrical lines. So in all there
were six houses, the fourth and the sixth divided into half by drawing
a line in the middle. We used a bunch of safety pins or small pieces of
broken coloured glass or even pieces of broken pottery or china clay to
play this game. We called these small objects 'jewels'. The throw of
the 'jewel' had to be accurate, the jump and hop perfect enough not to
lose your chance. Each one got her chance to play. Lastly, the chance
to take possession of a house by turning the face to the opposite side
and throwing the jewel overhead and see how lucky you have been to
conquer a space. A simple childish game, what fun we had. It is a
girl's game, and during those pigtail days how I enjoyed, and even
cried if I lost the game. Childhood days, packed with innocence, where
have they gone? There was so much fun in those jumps and hops.

Learning was fun for me as a kid. It was so easy to learn to add,
subtract, multiply and divide with my special collection. I collected
the tamarind seeds that was discarded from the tamarind pulp and kept
them in my secret box. The seeds were in hundreds and you can well
imagine the quantity of the pulp. Salt, jaggery, oil and a number of
spices, roasted and powdered, added to the pulp and stored in big jars
and labeled as "Tentuler achar (tamarind pickle). For more than a
fortnight the jars were exposed to bright sunlight and at dusk kept in
a safe place. Wow, my mouth is watering at the thought of the pickle.
Let me leave aside the tasty pickle and tell you about the seeds ? dark
brown in colour with a reddish touch, somewhat square shaped, shiny and
cute. I would take out the seeds and spread them on the floor, and ask
some one to spell out numbers to work out the different type of sums.
The tiny fingers worked fast to separate the seeds for the maths
problems and in no time the answer would be there. It was my Baba who
was the mastermind in giving me the idea to learn while at play with
the seeds that was unwanted to others.

Now and again I love to travel down the lanes on my very own "Childhood
Town" and end up in putting some of past thoughts in words.

Time is:

the stealer

the healer

the breather.