Embers

Wake up,it’s morning!”

The familiar call greeted Ashok to begin his day. Ashok works in a multinational software company. His days remain hectic, as he holds key responsibilities in his organization. It has been a long journey for him, from being a small town boy, to becoming one of the top bosses in his company. It has been ages since he had visited the place where he grew up, Shillong, which had a bearing on his being and success.

“Wake up,it’s morning!”

The place where Ashok grew up occupied a special place in his heart.
Rani had a similar pull at his heartstrings. Ashok and Rani sat by the fireplace. In his beloved place reminiscing their life journey. They have been married for close to three decades now. Their children are well-settled in life in different corners of the globe.

“Wake up,it’s morning!”

Leaving Shillong to move towards mainland India was difficult for Ashok. He loved the place of his childhood. But his wife Rani who was from the mainland was instrumental in their shifting base from the hill town. They both worked hard in their new place and provided for their family. Their grown-up children are doing well for themselves. Ashok and Rani have called it a day in their career. Enjoying their retirement days, they have booked into the prominent hotel Cherrywood in the city. One of the final wishes of Ashok’s father who passed away in the mainland was to visit and stay for a few days in their own home in this city. But alas, that was not to be. Sitting by the fireside, Ashok and Rani recalled this fervent desire of the departed soul.

“Wake up, it’s morning!”

Ashok would have loved his children to experience the beauty of Shillong in some ways that he had enjoyed during his youth. The scenic surroundings, the bustling and happening Police Bazar, the good education that the city offered, the air-conditioned environment throughout the year, and the pitter-patter on the tin roofed houses, and so many others. Things to die for.

“Wake up, it’s morning!”

Ashok has not been successful to pass on his love for his place of belonging to his children. Their ancestral home was sold off several years back, and their trips to the place have lessened over the years. Even the state of unrest have often contributed towards their ambivalence of visiting when the opportunity arose.

The fireplace has dimmed considerably, and gradually on the way towards getting extinguished. Ashok pointed the same to Rani and said that it needed a replenishment.
The embers should not be allowed to black out the remnants of the fire that remains.

“Wake up, it’s morning!”

eom

Shillong and its Seasons

I have spent more than three decades in ‘Scotland of the East.’ Today when I question myself “What do the seasons of the place where you grew up mean to you?” a probing inquiry is made to elicit an answer out of yours truly and the following is the outcome.
Spring- The initial days in the Academic calendar of school; new text and exercise books that had to be neatly maintained; getting acclimatized to new teachers in the new class; a shift from cricket to football (or even hockey) to be played after school hours in the field in the vicinity; the Bihu festivities for close to a week near our house in the month of April in Forest Colony with colorful Bihu dances & singing and drama programmes in the evenings; the strong winds that occasionally lashed the town during the month of March that has since disappeared in the past several years. The above are a few associations with spring.
Monsoon- Did we ever have a marked Monsoon season? It rained throughout the year; whether it was April or October. I love the rains; nothing really matches the feeling you experience when drops create a pitter-patter sound on the tin roofs of the house; of course it is a messy affair when you’re out of the house and return home drenched. And your concerned Ma would come running with towels and a fresh set of clothes. Sometimes the rains would continue unabated for days; this resulted in water entering some of the houses in the low lying areas in Polo causing much discomfort to several families. Never heard of loss to human lives though during the season when the rivers were often in spate. The exquisite sound of hails hitting the tin roofs and the feeling that aroused from touching the fallen ones later is a fond recollection.
Autumn- Some clearing of the sky, less rain; it meant we could spend time out playing games or visiting cinema halls or Polo Grounds to watch a game of soccer. Roaming aimlessly in Police Bazaar admiring everything under the sky was another option left which we availed of frequently. And if you have a rupee or two in your pocket, a treat of chai and singaras from Guptas or UP Restaurant or Indian Diary, for recharging the batteries. The cherry blossoms are a real treat for the eyes; add to that the approaching Durga Pujas, and the season can compete with all the others in the allure.
Winter- I love the winters in Shillong; immediately after Diwali there’s a nip in the air; people return to their houses early and the streets are quite deserted. We used to have a community cleaning drive of our locality once a year around this time before Christmas – from every house there would be a few representatives who would actively participate in the cleaning drive; this is not surprising because Shillong is among the cleanest city in the country. The Christmas spirit and New Year pervades during Dec-Jan. The procession of young boys and girls (and a few elders at the rear) going around in our colony singing ‘We wish you a merry Christmas’ filled the air with a touch of divinity. It was also a period when we visited places across India; no studies meant that we could read story books and comics without feeling guilty. The Oranges dangling on the trees in many houses lined along the roads of the city and the spread of white on the green grass and tin roofs in the first couple of hours in the morning owing to frost are still imprinted in memory.
eom

Open Screenings, Videos and Circus

Back in the eighties, there were several other mediums of entertainment besides the regular cinema houses in Shillong. I recall there used to be screenings of films in certain ‘open area’ where a large crowd could assemble and watch the film gratis. At Reserve Police Ground in Thana Road and Buddha Mandir ground in Polo, we had such free screenings during festivals mostly.
We used to have video parlours which screened the latest blockbusters much before it was released on the big screen in the cinema halls of shillong. One favorite haunt of us used to be the video parlour besides Payal Cinema. I remember watching video screenings of latest films like ‘Mahaan’ and ‘Swami Dada’ in the most unlikely of places – inside Jail Road Boys High School. I don’t know who used to screen/organize these shows on Sundays probably in the school.
A Circus had come to Shillong and staged shows in Polo Grounds in the winters of 1982 …
eom

Days in Riatsumthiah

My earliest recollection hover around the days I had spent in Riatsumthiah in South Shillong (India). I went to St. Dominic School. This school, situated in Mawkhar, had an English section, which had classes till Class V for the English medium, and thereafter the School had a Khasi medium only.

I was all of four years when I stepped inside the portals of an academic system. The first day of School is still entrenched in my memory. I did something that emanated a stink and was made to stand outside of the class till my Ma came and rescued me and took me home.

We owned a rather big house in Riatsumthiah. The house had a huge ‘pear’s tree’ near the entrance. We were a joint family comprising of grandparents and several uncles and their families. In this locality, at some distance from where it started, there is a narrow bylane on the right hand side of the road that takes one downwards along a winding path with intermittent steps. We used to enjoy rides on carts made of ball-bearing wheels which provided several thrilling childhood moments. If memory serves me right, the stretch would lead one towards the bridge (on the other side of the small bridge at the base of the numerous Wyindoh* steps) that bifurcates into two ways – one that lead towards Mawlai and the other that went towards Polo and Ganesh Das Hospital.

Of the teachers from St. Dominic, there was Ms. Maya who lived in the vicinity of the school. Ma generally used to meet her often to apprise herself of her son’s wayward ways from the class teacher. The school was co-ed with hardly any non-tribal. But in those days of early seventies, the conscious feeling of one’s identity was visibly absent. I remember a Khasi friend, Panbor, who initiated me to Momos during recess. Hector and Wanda were the bright pupils in the class in which I usually topped. Outside the school gate, at the rear end, Chanawallahs used to sell their stuff & I remember having my fill with a mere ten or a twenty paisa coin in my pocket. I used to love the exclusive aloo item they sold.

The School had a stern German Principal in those days and everyone was fearful of him. He had the entire school admin in his grip. He used to take regular rounds to ensure discipline, and on a particular occasion, during his vigil he found that our class was in a state of clamour in the absence of a teacher. The door was bolted from inside. On seeing this, he was fuming and indicated us to open the door. Everyone in the class froze. On the spur of the moment, I could muster up courage and went to open the door. On entering, he unleashed the first slap on my slender cheek before proceeding to deliver many on my classmates. That day, I felt that there was no truth in that adage – fortune favours the brave.

Adjacent to St. Dominic was a popular shop- Geeta Stores which post 1979 closed down & the proprietors opened a medicine shop ‘Sarkar Medicine’ which is still operational in Police Bazar. I used to accompany my Dad in the evenings when he went to Iewduh for the regular supplies. I cherish fond memories of a particular Kong who used to gift me ten/twenty paise everyday after my father purchased fishes from her. School books were bought from book shops that were at the entrance of Iewduh and for exercise books and school stationaries there was the popular ‘Kaluram Stores’.

Reminiscing about those days I now truly feel that those were magical times in my life. But all good things must come to an end some day. That day dawned in my life when in 1973 our family decided to shift to a house in the Polo neighborhood. I am still not sure the exact reason for the shift.

I continued going to St. Dominic from Polo walking my steps up and down the nearly hundred steps that took me to Wyindoh which is cheek by jawl Mawkhar. I was in Class IV/V then and went to School alone. Shillong hasn’t seen the days of turbulence as yet. My Ma used to check occasionally on my school journey and return as stretches on the walking path enroute to School was visible from our house.

A year or so later, I changed School and enrolled in St. Anthony’s High School. A new life awaited me in that institution. More on that some other day…

Eom

* This is probably misspelt. The locality was called Y-in-doh earlier.