Play Ground

Home, 150 PM, 29 January 2011

The sports day of Bombay Scottish has just got over..
The young kids, dressed in white and multicoloured caps finished PT at 12 sharp.
I saw the parents leave enthusiastically, with their kids in toe...
The labourers are now at work, piling up the chairs and dismatling the pandal...
The three kids from the slums have just walked into the ground excitedly now..
they are getting ready to play gilli danda..
they probably study in a different school.

Silly Mistakes

Home , Raheja Vihar, Mumbai
On a lazy Saturday afternoon 1255pm

I am sitting to blog in over six months now..primarily because I realized I was writing in between for others and not for myself and secondly because in a long long time.. after 1.5 years, I am home, with my husband and cat..settled, to be able to think of what I should do next.
But that being besides the point..I write today as Bombay Scottish celebrates its annual sports on the ground right opposite our apartment. Found myself looking down sleepy eyed at the hundreds of kids pour into the ground this morning. A few flags fixed right in front, for the view of the enthusiastic parents.

Took a stock of the time that has passed between now and the last I was there..enthusiastic one morning, dressed in my green tunic, well below my knees, parted hair tied at two end of my head, hair which was thankfully not oiled, looking forward to the time when my parents would walk in and as the captain of the school I would receive my flag , looking ahead with pride and responsibility. I don't know why, but I would always develop a lump in my throat and tears would well up in my eyes everytime I saw my parents encouraging me from behind the barricades.
Coming back to now, yesterday a few colleagues (also parents) were talking excitedly about being there. It hit me that actually many years have passed when we’re talking about our kids being out there in the sports days and that in no time, I’d be taking my own kid.
But for now, my thoughts are drifting back to my school, carmel convent, the yeallow building, 10th standard, the desks in which we scratched our names, flowers, shapes and patterns when bored , the teachers,Venu madam, Awasthi Madam, Girija warrior madam..
The math result.. I had scored an 89, lost 7 marks that I lost because of a silly mistake. Would have got me to 96, most that I expected from myself. Warrior mam told me that day that I was focusing more on the extracurrics and therefore losing out on hitting out on my potential. My teachers believed my abilities more than I did myself..
My silly mistakes have come with me all the way.. I still make them.. worse now.. I make them at work.. In the compensation of a person last year which I fixed later…need to slow down as a person.
On second thoughts I think I have brought along from school much more than silly mistakes with me…

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