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Prehistoric Memories

Discussion in 'Snippets of Life (Non-Fiction)' started by ojaantrik, Mar 30, 2014.

  1. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    I had once written here about my school days and the well-known teachers I was fortunate enough to study under. As I ruminate over those days, little glimpses of other contemporaries show up. Here is one such view, a view of my lost friend Radhakrishnan.
    _________________________________________


    Radhakrishnan.

    R. Radhakrishnan.


    Ramanathan Radhakrishnan, to be somewhat more precise.


    Or, just Raddy to many of us.


    No idea how many of those holy "us"-es exist anymore. And that includes Raddy himself.


    But he did exist once upon a time. My classmate of course, a classmate who keeps floating up every now and then in my stream of memories. Among other flotsam I guess. I wonder why. He must have been special.


    Radhakrishnan was a loveable chap, somewhat childish in temperament though. I mean as a student of Standard VI, if you take into account the number of times he would break into tears, literally so, when circumstances did not favour him. There were many such. And ours was a co-ed school. Raddy didn't mind weeping in public.


    One related to reading comic strips. It was a taboo in school during our time. Utpal Dutt and N. Vishwanathan were particularly strict as far as this law went. Not that it had any impact on us. We merrily read them at home and borrowed from each other. Johnny someone or the other who carried two guns, Roy Roger, Jessie James may be (I shouldn't mention these names to you kids -- highly unlikely that you've heard of them -- I am inadvertently revealing my age to you!!). But Julius Caesar figured there too -- original Shakespeare.


    As I said, all this was taboo. Reading comics was a sign of mental degradation. Only Mr. Dutt didn't know how degraded we actually were. Except of course for Raddy. Not that Raddy was stupid. Just that he was innocent and didn't understand why reading comic strips would stand in the way of his rise to glory. So, he brought the comic books to school and read them mostly during lunch hour and sometimes while a class was in progress. I can't exactly recall the occasions, but Mr. Dutt could have been teaching us Milton with Raddy deeply engrossed in reading his cowboy comics.


    As I said, he was somewhat innocent. Which means he would get caught. And commotion followed invariably. Mr. Dutt (or was it Mr. Vishwanathan?) would walk down the aisle and catch hold of the book Raddy had fallen in love with, snatch it away from him with a warning that harsher punishments would follow if he defied the law. A sheepish, though adorable smile, was what Raddy used to respond with, knowing probably that the book would soon come back to his possession, so long as he promised not to repeat the crime again. Perhaps it did.


    And then he repeated this heinous crime, again, again, again and then again and again. Till one day Mr. Utpal Dutt took hold of the book and tore it to pieces in front of the class. Now Raddy had probably borrowed it from a friend or a local library ( who knows). So destruction of the book mattered. He was liable to return the book. Tears streamed down his cheeks as on all such occasions. Not silent mind you. He wailed and accused the person engaged in the cruel act of chastisement. What sort of logic he came up with to defend his case I have no memory of alas. But that crying face continues to haunt.


    The crying face of a young boy. We were all quite young of course, but he was surely the one who stood out. On one occasion Raddy loudly protested through his tears and told Mr. Vishwanathan I remember that he was Mr. Vishwanathan's favourite victim whatever "crime" might have been committed by whoever it was that committed it! How much truth there was to this accusation I can't tell, but Mr. Vishwanathan even tried to argue in self-defense. Recorded history, unfortunately, does not have anything to offer on the manner in which this battle ended.


    Raddy, was single mindedly devoted to science. I am sure he wished to grow into a scientist. And that was fun, at least for me. He taught me how to manufacture electric bells. We would walk over to an electrical goods shop near our homes (he lived 5 minutes' walk away from mine) and purchase the necessary raw materials and before we sat down to work on the bells, we would discuss with great interest the theory underlying the simple devices. That was enjoyable, though we quarrelled once in a while too and Raddy would storm out of my home. Accompanied by rain, that is his crying as usual. On one occasion, I remember running after him to drag him back.


    Raddy was so scientifically inclined that he often mixed up his English literature work with scientific experiments in the Chemistry lab. Once he submitted a homework to Mr. Dutt which described a man quenching his thirst as he drank out of a beaker. Mr. Dutt had no idea what a beaker was doing in his literature class. He yelled at Raddy, "What's this you have written?" Raddy replied calmly that he was speaking about a beaker. Which took us nowhere of course. I think Raddy had tried to impress the teacher by using what was classy English in his opinion. To no effect alas! Utpal Dutt wouldn't accept a beaker to serve liquid refreshments.


    It was Raddy who taught me how South Indian Brahmins wrote their names. Ramanathan was his father's name and Radhakrishnan was his own. Much later I learnt that Ramanathan himself would be preceded by the name of the locality where the family originated and Radhakrishnan in his turn would be followed by an Iyer or an Iyengar, depending on whether one was a Shaivite or a Vaishnavite. But as I said, I learnt this much later. By then I had lost touch with Raddy. So, the prefix and suffix in his case belong to the domain of unknowables for me.


    The other important lesson he taught me was that the word "Madrasi" was a Bengali invention. He explained to me carefully what he meant and I understood him quite well. But I don't think I ever referred to him as a Tamilian. At that young age, he continued to be a Madrasi to me. Raddy was a Madrasi, just as much as Kamla Vilas was a Madrasi Guest House and Restaurant.


    They lived in a cramped looking flat in an apartment building (such buildings were rare at the time). I have a vivid memory of his father's face, but not his voice. He had never spoken to me, or else I would. As I think about the man now, he was somewhat strange. The rare occasions I came across him at their home, he would stand at a distance and simply stare at me. Expressionless. Completely so. Or else, I would have concluded that the face reflected a hidden sadness.


    His mother was different. She was able to converse in broken Bengali and would always come out with a warm smile when I visited their home. "Won't you wait a little, Radhakrishnan will be here soon," she used to tell me in her version of Bengali. Very motherly, dripping with kindliness.


    Many years later, when I was in charge of ISI, Delhi Centre, a cousin of mine (who had attended the same school) told me that he had news of Radhakrishnan. I followed up the link and tracked him down in US. He recognized me and replied to my email. I told him that I had fond memories of his kind mother. He informed me that she had expired under unfortunate circumstances. That's about all that passed between us. He never responded to my mails after the first one or two.


    Also, Raddy sounded different. He didn't sound the innocent little boy I knew. He was more like a busy professional. It was clear that he didn't shed tears anymore. His tears may have dried up. He had shed them all as a youngster.


    It was my time to cry. Over my lost childhood.
     
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  2. Sriniketan

    Sriniketan IL Hall of Fame

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    Good write-up OJ da, about your childhood friend, Raddy. But you know, he might not have changed as he replied to your email...he might have been time constrained.

    My father also found out about one of his collegues in his office, through a magazine and contacted him...but till today no reply from his side :-(

    As you had mentioned, you need not cry about your lost childhood as you still have it in you :thumbsup:

    Sriniketan
     
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  3. shyamala1234

    shyamala1234 Platinum IL'ite

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    Dear OJ sir,
    I enjoyed reading it. Good childhood memories. We too read comics during student days keeping in the middle of text books and quite sometimes were caught red handed.

    When we meet school friends later in life...fast forward after many years each behaves in a unique way. Some talk it is only a comma and not a full stop and share so many things they share and feel very happy and carry on the friendship forward, sometimes including family also. Some become reserved and carry on with their lives and some may not recognise also. So, all sorts. When they grow up develop different mindsets and personalities.
    A good one, sir.

    Syamala
     
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  4. Manjureddy

    Manjureddy Gold IL'ite

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    Dear Ojaantrik


    I was so thrilled to see your latest, when I came to post my new post.
    Bitter sweet Memories ! Thats what you have served as an elaboate and lovingly prepared feast , and guess what ? Its Memories of younger days that impelled me to post today, too. Whats in the air ? I wonder ....Or , can I get impertinently bold and imply inclusion in your rank by blurting " Great Minds think alike ? " !!!


    But why cry for bygone childhood, Friend ? Its not " Lost" . We lived it , enjoyed it, its fully absorbed in our system and hence safely immortalised as memories . We can summon it at will, as you have so admirably summoned the dear crybaby Raddy, a reheated repast to savour again . The innocence, the beauty, the absurdity and joy of that age, are they ever totally lost ? Your friend himself changed, but even he does not have the power to change the boy in your memory. Isnt that wonderful ! Shed no tears, but celebrate the experience you had.


    Imagining the irascible Mr Dutt , getting apoplectic over that unfortunately misplaced Beaker had me in splits . I do hope the young boy dint carry the mystery , of why liquid refreshments should not be served in glass lotas , into adulthood with scarring effect....and even if Recorded history failed to preserve minutae about how Mr. vishwanathan's skirmishes ended, you have more than compensated for such loss by bringing all dramatis personae to life with your inimitable skill.


    An inscrutable father and a sweet mother are so much a part of the Madrasi model , that I would never have noticed them . You did and retained the impressions too. For so long. Why certain seemingly unimportant impressions get embedded in memory is a point for permanent wonder in my realm of unknowables .


    That Raddy did not pick up the thread of friendship, that got worn out ages ago, is sort of understandable. It may not be entirely due to cold unwillingness to honour past associations . He may have his own demons from those days haunting him, tearing at his self image . He may not have wanted to see himself again , through remembrances, as an immature, bawling sissy.


    Had the satisfaction of partaking in a lovely, warm chitchat with old friends, you and Raddy, over a cup of after dinner chocolate.
     
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  5. Viswamitra

    Viswamitra IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Sri Ojaantrik:

    I always admire your amazing memories of young age. Having learned interesting stories of Madrasis' interaction with Bengali friends for many years, it is now my turn to switch gears and learn about the feelings that a Bengali has for his childhood Madrasi. Every story I have heard from my friends and relatives are all positive. I somehow feel that there is great chemistry between Bengalis and Madrasis.

    It is remarkable that you made a sincere effort to contact your friend after so many years. Recently, my school friend who is now a successful medical practitioner contacted me after 40 years. He informed me that he was visiting Orlando and asked me whether we could meet. As promised, he called me from Orlando and I drove down to Orlando to bring his wife and him to our city. They spend a night with us and left the next day for Orlando. What an experience it was! We spoke so much about our childhood experiences.

    I agree with Manju that we never lose our childhood as those memories became legacies and etched in our mind. I truly enjoyed reading about your friend Raddy.

    Viswa
     
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  6. Mindian

    Mindian IL Hall of Fame

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    Beautiful memories, Oj da and yes, we all have them. :) I too often wonder why some not-so-impressionable characters from an age long forgotten keep coming back as memories. and then I smile to myself at the thought that obviously, they were not as insignificant as I had thought they were.
    One such case was just the opposite of your Raddy. let me call her Archie , short for Archana. Amidst all us girly girls she stood out as a tomboy and gave us a lot to laugh about. :)
    LOVED your write-up as always .
     
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  7. knbg

    knbg Moderator Staff Member IL Hall of Fame

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    A beautiful post in an inspiring style dear OJda..:bowdown..enjoyed it a lot.
     
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  8. navs23

    navs23 Platinum IL'ite

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    Dear OJ Sir,
    Very interesting post.
    I wished for an happy ending though, that your friend would have been happy to rekindle the old memories and stayed in touch, but, only he would know the reasons for not doing so.
    I have had the opportunity to get in touch with some old friends and to my surprise(or shock) some haven't changed at all, while some have changed so much, that I no longer even recognize them. I have changed a lot too. I used to be like your friend with water works always on ;-) Time and circumstances changes everyone!
     
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  9. Kamalji

    Kamalji IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear OJ,

    Sorry i am late to this masterpiece from u. What a wonderful story, and those great teachers, utpal dutt being my favourite, what an actor, and u had the privilege to learn from him eh !

    i lost touch with my school pals, for as soon as i finished school we shifted localities some 20 kms away from there, and then in a decade i shifted to jaipur, and lost total touch. But a few i remember, and i found them thryu face book, alas they have forgotton me, even though i reminded them who i am, but well , i am a poor kamal, how can they remember me. So i dont blame them.

    the actors Anil kapoor, the singer Shanker mahadevan, are from my school, though they were after me, meaning in lower classes, but i read they were in the same school.

    Superb story, and do jog yr brains for more stories for hungry minds like mine.You just made my day OJ.

    Regards

    kamal
     
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  10. Srama

    Srama Finest Post Winner

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    Dear Oj da,

    it is amazing to read the wonderful period of that time in your life and I am kind of tickled that the kids I see now in the same age group including my own son seem to do these things you talk of - the interest in science, easily getting upset, the story writing secretly, the tree climbing, the hiking in the near by woods by themselves and all the fun stuff.

    Your writing is amazing, you know we all enjoy that and it takes us to the days you speak of so fondly. Being girls you can only imagine how many Raddys were in our group and not to speak of the young boys who always believed that they were our protectors when we went out in groups on school trips - really those innocent days. How awesome they were but then Oj da fortunately for me, I am pretty much in touch with every one that mattered to me then, even now. So when we get together, it is like we have never been not in touch and thanks to the social media, it is now even more easy for us to never loose touch. I, for one am so grateful for that.

    Thoroughly enjoyed reading!
     
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