Quo Vadis
Quo Vadis
Those painful childhood memories! Every time I would plan to step out of the house, that unsavoury query would routinely pop up - an unnerving stumbling block to my freedom of movement .....'Quo Vadis'? Suddenly thousands of grey butterflies would start fluttering noisily inside my stomach, my parched gullet refusing entry to a nervously gulped saliva ball while my tongue would cease to wag. All symptoms of an impending cataclysm - violent repurcussions of getting caught while telling a white lie in broad day light. Fortuitously, this seldom happened.
Those nervous moments came as a flash back many years later, when I was facing an interview board for the very first time, as I looked at a group of officious gentleman in complete disbelief! They proved to be a smarter lot than my credulous parents! Otherwise, how could they gauge my ignorance by my mere appearance. The mystery still intrigues me.
Coming back to childhood, however, the actual answers to my parents' questions were deeply ensconced in the secret chambers of my heart and were scantliy revealed. Now that I am old and shameless, I can easily narrate some of the compelling reasons which egged me on to storm the bastille.
1. To join a group of friends to stone a mango tree laden with raw fruits inside Mr. Sen's boundary, if it be a melancholy summer afternoon, a perfect siesta time for the grown ups.
2. To take a stroll down the lonely lane till Madhu would emerge from her school bus.
Her sight would send all my blood gushing up my head and the parched throat would never let me say 'hello' inspite of several rehearsals of voice modulation in front of the bathroom mirror. Yet you had to keep trying.
3. To have a duel and ideally bash up that ugly boy from the neighboring mohalla, who had broken our teams' only cricket bat.
4. To quickly cycle down to the Horhap jungle, our air guns secured to the bicycle rods, to take a splash in the river by the forest bungalow and shoot a few doves on our way back. To tell the truth, we were always on the look out for hares but they proved to be rather cunning.
These and such many, many more reasons which, alas, cannot be narrated here due to paucity of space as well as to avoid trying your patience.
But never for once did I intend to share Raju's, who always stood first in class, science note books, to practice maths with Sanjay, to master the art of extempore speech from Bablooji, to learn gymnastics from Father Bryse and other such Godly acts which could easily fetch me parental acquiescence.
Thus, when accosted with this abhorred question, I gleefully resorted to the latter while intending to the contrary. The lies topppled out of my mouth with devilish ease. And never an iota of compunction!!
As I grew up, this question lost much of its venom and were meekly uttered with a tinge of apology. Happily, I found no reason to resort to the second set of excuses since the previous ones had long lost their charm. No more stealing half ripe mangoes, no fights over cricket, no more cycling escapades....
Now that my parents have left for their heavenly abode, I often miss their questions as I step out of home. I feel lonely and abandoned; as if there is no one to bother about my well being!
Then the other day, I jumped in my pants when the same question rang in my ears. My mother in law, in her late seventies, was visiting us that winter. The Delhi cold was proving a little too taxing for her aging bones. The mild Gujarat winter lured her into paying a visit to her daughter. One morning, as I hurriedly plucked my car keys from the hook and proceeded towards the gate on my way to office, there she stood blocking my way. Those hateful words played like soulful music to my ears as she inquired - QUO VADIS?!
25th Jan, 2020. (On my way to Ranchi from Delhi).
Those painful childhood memories! Every time I would plan to step out of the house, that unsavoury query would routinely pop up - an unnerving stumbling block to my freedom of movement .....'Quo Vadis'? Suddenly thousands of grey butterflies would start fluttering noisily inside my stomach, my parched gullet refusing entry to a nervously gulped saliva ball while my tongue would cease to wag. All symptoms of an impending cataclysm - violent repurcussions of getting caught while telling a white lie in broad day light. Fortuitously, this seldom happened.
Those nervous moments came as a flash back many years later, when I was facing an interview board for the very first time, as I looked at a group of officious gentleman in complete disbelief! They proved to be a smarter lot than my credulous parents! Otherwise, how could they gauge my ignorance by my mere appearance. The mystery still intrigues me.
Coming back to childhood, however, the actual answers to my parents' questions were deeply ensconced in the secret chambers of my heart and were scantliy revealed. Now that I am old and shameless, I can easily narrate some of the compelling reasons which egged me on to storm the bastille.
1. To join a group of friends to stone a mango tree laden with raw fruits inside Mr. Sen's boundary, if it be a melancholy summer afternoon, a perfect siesta time for the grown ups.
2. To take a stroll down the lonely lane till Madhu would emerge from her school bus.
Her sight would send all my blood gushing up my head and the parched throat would never let me say 'hello' inspite of several rehearsals of voice modulation in front of the bathroom mirror. Yet you had to keep trying.
3. To have a duel and ideally bash up that ugly boy from the neighboring mohalla, who had broken our teams' only cricket bat.
4. To quickly cycle down to the Horhap jungle, our air guns secured to the bicycle rods, to take a splash in the river by the forest bungalow and shoot a few doves on our way back. To tell the truth, we were always on the look out for hares but they proved to be rather cunning.
These and such many, many more reasons which, alas, cannot be narrated here due to paucity of space as well as to avoid trying your patience.
But never for once did I intend to share Raju's, who always stood first in class, science note books, to practice maths with Sanjay, to master the art of extempore speech from Bablooji, to learn gymnastics from Father Bryse and other such Godly acts which could easily fetch me parental acquiescence.
Thus, when accosted with this abhorred question, I gleefully resorted to the latter while intending to the contrary. The lies topppled out of my mouth with devilish ease. And never an iota of compunction!!
As I grew up, this question lost much of its venom and were meekly uttered with a tinge of apology. Happily, I found no reason to resort to the second set of excuses since the previous ones had long lost their charm. No more stealing half ripe mangoes, no fights over cricket, no more cycling escapades....
Now that my parents have left for their heavenly abode, I often miss their questions as I step out of home. I feel lonely and abandoned; as if there is no one to bother about my well being!
Then the other day, I jumped in my pants when the same question rang in my ears. My mother in law, in her late seventies, was visiting us that winter. The Delhi cold was proving a little too taxing for her aging bones. The mild Gujarat winter lured her into paying a visit to her daughter. One morning, as I hurriedly plucked my car keys from the hook and proceeded towards the gate on my way to office, there she stood blocking my way. Those hateful words played like soulful music to my ears as she inquired - QUO VADIS?!
25th Jan, 2020. (On my way to Ranchi from Delhi).
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