Those Were the Days

                                                                         SparkPeople

Do you remember those days when children played outside with their friends? Wide, open spaces when they didn’t have to worry about being mown down by speeding vehicles, or falling into open potholes, or being accosted by strangers. Those were the days when families lived together, and everyone knew every other person. Those days when life was simpler, and technology was a word that hovered somewhere in the future.

Children grew up together, playing rough and tough games, wallowing in the mud, unabashed about getting their clothes dirty. They climbed trees, plucked green mangoes, and often came home, covered with scratches and reeking to high heaven. Their spirits would be high as they scrambled to have cold water baths, squealing with glee as they saw tiny rivers of dirt flowing into the sink hole.

Once they were squeaky clean, they would often sit together, as the twilight hour spread its mantle over the evening, and their grandmothers or aunts would come outside, their faces illuminated by the flame of the lamp in their hands, chanting, “Deepam, deepam”. The children, and the adults, would pray together as the lamp was placed on the little stone platform outside, in the midst of which a tulsi plant would grow, tenaciously fighting to survive all onslaughts of weather.

                                                                   Quora.com

This was the hour when the elders would chant prayers in their sonorous (or otherwise) voices, and children would have to repeat them after, one reason why most children in the generation could rattle off mantras in a jiffy, I, for one, remember chanting two whole chapters of the Bhagavad Gita all because my grandparents and I would sit and chant them together, in a large prayer room, which abounded with the idols of every god in the Hindu community. As a little child, I had my favourites – a tall blue Krishna who had a mischievous smile on his face, a pot-bellied Ganesha who always remained in my heart, and numerous others I loved to look at because they were so beautiful. In fact, my sisters and I used to play a guessing game which consisted of identifying different idols by just their description.

I often wondered about my relationship with God. It was not as intense as the one that my grandparents had, as they spent three hours in the morning and evening, to complete their prayer sessions. My parents never forced me or my sisters to pray… in fact, the only time I did pray was at night just before I went to bed. I would read my book and when I felt that my eyelids were closing, I would pray for my whole family, for my friends and for all those who were in my mind at the time. Even today, the litany continues, and while the essentials haven’t changed over the years, many other names have crept in, and when I finally drift off to sleep, I feel a sense of contentment; a feeling that my prayer could just have reminded God to keep my loved ones safe.

What I do remember of my childhood days is that there was a sense of peace and contentment that drew us all in. I recall the various schools that I attended, my dad having been an Army officer, the ease with which I sailed through classes, happy because I could play games in the evening with my friends. Games like Hide and Seek, and Dodgeball, Seven Stones and Aeroplane, games that built up our stamina and made us sweat. Books were strewn around all over our house, and reading was a habit that crept in naturally, and stayed forever.

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                                                                thebetterindia.com

Monsoons were no problem. There were days when I got drenched on purpose and survived. On other days, we sat and played board games like Scrabble and the ubiquitous ‘Name, Place, Animal, Thing.’ My dad got me interested in stamps and match labels. I still remember those beautiful stamps from Zambia in interesting shapes… luminous triangles and rectangles that I could never stop looking at. Match labels were a different kettle of fish. Dad and I used to put the labels in water and wait for the glue to come off. Then we would gently unroll the label, dry in and stick it in our albums. We had one album each and prided ourselves on our unique collection.

                                                                   stampworld.com

My little sister was born when I was seven. So, till then, I had the rule of the roost. My favourite pastime was sitting outside in the afternoon, when everyone else was enjoying their siesta, and making mud pies with my little kitchen set. I could sit for hours, creating little tea parties for my dolls, all of whom had filmy names like Sapna, Sandhya, Sadhana and the like.

One day, I laid hands on a foreign magazine from a second-hand store, and I fell in love. For the first time ever, I gazed in fascination at paper dolls, which I could cut out along with a whole wardrobe of clothes that could be put on them. After that, there was no looking back. I collected over a hundred paper dolls, christened them all, created families and careers and lives around them all. Fred and Frank were farmers, Penny, Daphne, Betsy and Barbara were from different walks of life - ballerinas, teachers, school children, party folk. In short, I had a whole fun family of imaginary people.

                                                                      Allsorts - TypePad

My sisters loved my paper dolls and they could play with them only as a rare treat. I clung on to them (the paper dolls!) till I went to college, and then I reluctantly handed them over to my little sister, who was obviously elated.

Those were the days. The days when the word ‘bored’ did not appear in our dictionary, and we could keep ourselves occupied on our own. Social media was an unknown term. Even the television appeared only when I was in high school and Chitrahaar and the weekend movie were the only two programmes that we enjoyed watching. Later, of course, Doordarshan came out with some wonderful serials which we all devoured.

It seems strange to think back on a time when there were no computers, mobile phones, data sticks, USBs, WI-FI and the like. However, what we did have was quality family time, the great outdoors and hours of concocting games and hobbies to keep our interests alive. As children, we were tough. Parents did not believe in sparing the rod, and I think we grew up the better for it. ‘NO” was a word that was used often and there were no innuendoes hovering around, waiting to fall on our heads like Chicken Licken’s sky. No hints of psychological trauma resulting from a scolding, a declined party invitation or a stern note from a teacher. Oh yes, teachers had the liberty to chasten, ground or punish and there was not a squeak from the parents or the students. In fact, many of these students came back to thank their teachers for having moulded them into good human beings.

                                                                    Keep Calm-o-Matic

The Corona virus has invaded our lives, forcing us to spend time at home with our families. It has grounded us and made us rethink our priorities. For some, this enforced solitude is a punishment, a time to bite their nails into jagged ends and chafe at the confinement.

For many others, it is a time of reconciliation, of spending magical moments with their children and loved ones at home, of discovering the simple joys that they had been taking for granted.