school blues

Jispa had been a bit under the weather on Monday. Jasmine was called into school to take Jispa back as she had fever. As she realized that she was going to miss more than one day at school, Jispa was in tears. She loves going to school every day. We always dread when she gets unwell as we don’t know how we are going to get her to stay back at home. Wow. I wish I had her schooling. I went to what was at the time a decent school. It surely had a large play ground. But I guess I never did very well adjust to schooling. We satyed in Dubai till third standard and then moved into Mumbai post the fourth. It was quite a cultural shock. Dubai being Dubai was rich, opulent and full of all eth lovely things in the world such as Pepsi, Chewing gum and amazing chocolates. India was a poor country in 1984. With only Doordarshan channel one, Bata shoes, kissme toffee bars and Cadbury chocolates. It was far too disturbing for us kids than we could handle. 1984 was no where near what we have today.
Whenever we came in from Dubai for a vacation to India, we were royalty. We were aliens wearing foreign clothe eating foreign goods. It was amazing that India was so insular at the time. Every Indian would stare at us looking at all the stuff denied to him. There was practically nothing available here for any kind of consumption. Our shoes and jackets were objects of desire. The only chips I remember eating here was something called Simba chipnicks which were packed in flimsy transparent plastic pouches. Coming back to stay in India was one hell of a cultural shock.
From a school (Indian high School) which had 30 students in a classroom with two air conditioners and four fans to a school (Don Bosco) that had 60 plus students with four fans, no air-conditioning and a very wet monsoon to herald the new year. Yes it was tough adjusting. We siblings shifted in 84 with our parents coming in a year later after winding up our home there. We got in tons of goods in what was popularly known as TR (transfer of residence). In this scheme you could get in tons of foreign goodies into India, including tape recorders, foodstuff, a car, clothes, assorted electronics etc. I remember mom and dad tying to the get the consignment passed at the customs. We sold some and kept some.
So we were still living the foreign dream for a few years after (till stocks last or you outgrow them). We did not lose anything to obsolescence. Partly because things weren’t improving at a fast pace and what we had was so bloody modern by India’s standards that it took a while for India to catch up to that level. So we lived in the shadow of Dubai being no land’s children.
My dad was awesome. I never seen him complain or make a fuss about it. We never felt him to be unhappy about the shift. In Dubai he drove around a Toyota crown, in India he was happy to roam around in our brand new Bajaj Chetak scooter with a side car attached. That he had got delivery of the much in demand scooter by paying foreign exchange. Else you get it after an obscene waiting time. I think it was a year or two for a scooter and up to 5 to 7 years for a car. Chetak was not even given out easily I think. You could only buy the humble Bajaj Super. I think Bajaj might have been doing a public service or charity of sorts by advertising. With a wait list like that who needs advertising.
Schooling was stressful for me for sure. Every monsoon I would fall ill and I never did adjust to the change in weather. This continued well into college where I finally developed some resistance of any sort. The favorite illness was sore throat.
Add to that the really irritating bunch of teachers who didn’t care too much for the students. It’s unfair to say all were bad. Some were awesome and really stood apart from the crowd. I remember Ms Beatrice, Ms Marina, Ms Clare being really sweet and some nasty ones that did not think twice before slapping us. The slap was bad. That was humiliating and irritating. It created more anger than anything else. Patel sir, the PT sir once got the whole class to stand still while he went about given one whack on the bum to each and everyone of us with a hockey stick. I remember that hurting a lot but I remember that as fun. It’s the slap that was hit that hurt. The hockey stick was for some reason bearable. Years after while I was doing my summers I met a senior guy who was from my school as well. He too remembered the teachers slapping and hated it.
I was telling Jispa that my teachers used to hit us and slap us. She was listening in all amazement. She has been living a fairy tale for now.
All in all school was not happening for me. I finally figured it around the 9th and 10th standard. I guess by then we were truly Indians in all sense. We might have run out of our Dubai security blankets/ blings and I think I was getting some of my confidence back. Hell in 10th standard I was even made monitor of the class. But my crowning moment was actually in the 9th when I won the ‘second best actor award’. I knew I was good at acting and I did not mind losing first place as I believed it was partiality at play. Who knows who cares? I loved it and my play was a really funny play titled ‘the watermelon cure’. I used to take part in all extra-curriculars as it meant bunking class for practice. Awesome!
But today as I look back, I don’t really miss school nor do I blame them. That was the best school around at the time. Just that we hadn’t as a nation removed our blinkers and opened ourselves to the changes happening around. We too were guilty of being in a time warp. I am happy that I was baler to balance the equation before I hit college. Hence actually between the school and college, for some reason I prefer my college life. That I met my life there and went through five years with her by my side must have been an important factor. That was an era of India opening up. 91 to 96… but then that is another story or should I say another blog entry.