BLOOD SPORT

I went to another school (Sisu Vihar) next year and we moved into a rented house, which was a portion of my dad’s younger brother’s house. Quarrel between my dad and mom became more and more often. Sometimes (at night) mom used to leave the house (usually she proceeds to our old house (uncle’s) which was about 300 feet away) and it was my job running after her, crying, pleading her not to go and bringing her back to home. I have never seen my father beating my mom. He never abused her too. (My parents never used any bad words and once I got beaten to pulp for calling my sister a swear word, though I did not know what it meant).

(Dad was a non-smoker and teetotaler, but he used to chew betel leaf, that too very often. Or I better say he was addicted to it.

Betel Leaves

He did not use much tobacco along with it. Mostly only three things – betel leaf, betel nut and lime paste which is calcium carbonate. There was a dedicated plate for this purpose, which was used to keep all the ingredients in small quantities. There was a special cutter

Nut Cutter


for cutting betel nuts, in Malayalam, this is called ‘Pakku Vetti’ (pakku means betel nut and vetti means tool used for cutting)).

Thus my family atmosphere was morose. This was the situation till I became 17 years old. Life was under fear, insecurity, uncertainty and turmoil.

Overall, dad became more ferocious. He lived in his own world. He hardly talked to mom. I don’t remember him taking me to any movie. He wasn’t mild even to me and my sister. So I was always after my mom. She bought me almost everything she could. Books, pen, pencil, torch, toys. Chocolate…… Dad too used to buy one story book per month and he bought me ice cream whenever I came with a decent report card, which was the usual thing for me. But I did fail in math once or twice. Then he won’t sign the report card and I have to beg and apologize. But those moments were rare. There weren’t anybody to take care of our studies at home. Nobody asked me to study. There weren’t anybody to help me doing my home work (except my sister, sometimes, that too after cribbing!).

It was my job to wash my clothes. In my family everyone washed their clothes by themselves, including dad. We had separate plates for each member. That too we washed ourselves. I think this is hygienic but can stand in between developing sharing mentality in kids and induces ‘I’ and ‘My’ feeling. But if both parents are working and there is no servant, we need to adjust.

I was a timid boy. I got teased and troubled by even the girls of my class, in the new School. I cried. How long can I cry? Then I had a fight with another boy, for some reason, when I lost all my control. That was a turning point, though we both got beatings from our teacher. Then I started reacting to those who dared to trouble me. I proved to be good at fighting. I even fought with 2-3 kids of my size at the same time. Slowly I got the rowdy title. I never started a fight. Many times my class teacher asked me to bring my parents. But they did not turn up. More beatings, more standing out (of the class), more crying, more standing in front of the class with hands up, more standing in the class with books on head!!!!!

One aunty (my mom’s elder sister who was working in another school) came handy in these circumstances. She came to my school representing my parents.

There were small gangs headed by somebody and I too had one. Usually, members under us would be those who got beaten by us at some point of time. I had a right hand man who always stood with me and when grew up, became a Soldier. Even after 30 years, we are friends. After a BIG fight with another class (division), I got shifted to my enemy class as punishment. I cried a lot and begged my class teacher to put me back to my ‘home’ division.

Finally she agreed on one condition. I need to go to the Head Mistress and get her permission since it was her decision to change my division. Happily I went to her room and she forgave me. And my right hand man moved a little and gave me a place to sit. We both smiled at each other. That Head Mistress was one of the popular figures in the Teacher Community, those days – Mariyamma Teacher.

There was a beautiful girl (Lini) in our school whose presence made many of us a little bashful.