Friday, March 31, 2017

The Mystery that I could never solve.

Call it innocence or mischief, the colony's aunties despised me and my little brother. They found us notorious then, and were we notorious? I thought we were then.

Our childhood was different from today's generation. We found our solace in imagination, for getting a plastic or metallic toy cars were luxury. We imagined those woods and stones as our cars, and we made noises like vroom vroom and haaaang haaang. Our female friends would make dolls out of hay and straws, with old clothes and treated them as babies. Anthropomorphism at its best? We were happy, we didn't feel poor nor were we mocked to play those toys. We would make bows and arrows and practiced upon banana trees as our targets. We were Robinhoods in our own ways. We would play khuru as well, and to admit it today, I was very much passionate and a good player, at least that's how I remember and would like to remember. But there was a day, when one of my cousin brothers Mahendra, hit me on my should blade with his khuru and father was totally against it. However, I would secretively enroll myself for Khuru competition at school. To this, father reacted by making a light pair of khurus, which would do no harm, neither would it fly nor would it have any impact, and I wouldn't hit any targets. The shafts were not well finished and the vanes were made out of frooti packets. Yes, it wasn't designed aerodynamically and it surely had no impact. And when I played, my dzongkha Lopen, cursed time and again, that I sucked big time. Yes, he literally gave me gestures of 'you are not good for anything', while he fondled with his palms and fingers! When he said that time and again, from one target to another, from first khuru to second khuru, I in fact believed in him. Then there came a time, when I threw that khuru with my utmost rage, and so many people had to run away from the peripheries of target. I still don't know, why people stand next to the targets, it's not that their eyes are equipped with high mega pixels and slow motion cameras? Yet, they all have to stand next to the target, and increase their probability of being one of the targets.

The next time I got my chance, people would know who was throwing it and how much of distance they had to maintain. It isn't that I sucked, my khurus were useless.

Then like some fashionista, we ditched upon khuru. We ditched upon many sports and games as puberty struck us. Gone were the days of wooden and stone vehicles, gone were the days for khuru, bow and arrow, and of course, day-ko as well. There were days which were classy then, because the kids from Kalingpong with proficient English accent introduced us to, now stupid - cool then, games like : Clap, kabbadi, cricket and shaky shaky.

Cricket like the British empire staying in India, didn't leave us for some time. While soccer became like potato for every reason and season, because it blended with everybody and anybody and of course, at any time. So there were days when it rained cats and dogs, and we kicked those balls, cricket during rainy days became that shy bride, who hesitated to unveil.

And childhood days were very funny, because we fought like Greeks had fought for Helen, while our prides were at stake, because someone had said he could beat us up, we would just pick fights with those who expressed their beliefs with freedom of speech. We would also fight when someone would 'give us the look'. Of course, how could we not fight with some whose shoulders just collided with us unintentionally?

Today, I understand or I tend to think that I have understood why those aunties branded us as dacoits and vagabonds, because they didn't want to admit their children's flaws, that they didn't want their dreams of their children being nice and naive to be taken away. So, they blamed us, while all along, we were the naive ones to be culprits, because we were too dumb to run away from events and we landed up as scapegoats. While we thought Kalingpong kids with accent were cool, we gave in to their ways because we thought we weren't cool enough, but we in fact were way too cooler. Who would have caught crabs and fishes, nurtured chickens in the coop and taken care of goats, planted ginger and spinach, and not to forget, hunt for sweet potatoes around jungle? We were Indiana Jones who were way too lucky, because we never encountered any snakes then. And that Dzongkha Lopen and jeering part, it got me thinking that at times, we believe what we are told who we are, the saddest part being that we actually confront upon it and start believing in those things - how wrong we become by doing so.

I still think that I have solved all the mysteries, but I haven't solved this one: I would win fights over Dorji, and Kota would always whoop my ass. And at one time, when Dorji and Kota were about to fight, I was so thrilled because I thought Dorji would die that day. But Dorji yelled at Kota, he didn't even hit him, and Kota broke down with gushing ganges from his eyes. I still don't understand, I simply don't get it.

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