Thursday, February 7, 2013

Few precious things we never out-grow!

The other day,I was deep into the computers doing a clerical work that makes quite a bulk of my job here in the UK when someone startled me.I have a low threshold for surprises so I was out of my chair ,literally jumped out when a pleasant ward clerk who was helping me with the papers exclaimed-'atleast you did not swear!'.I found myself pertly replying ,'I never swear.'
That made me ask myself ,'Why don't I swear?'.
That took me back zillions of years ago when we were in a boarding school.....
My mom had a set of do's and don't's she lovingly packed along with our trunks,the bible and our tucks.....and she had an unofficial ,self volunteered spy in my older sister M who invariably would be staring at us whenever any of us were anywhere near crossing the line.Her one lined dreaded declaration would be,' just wait..I'll tell mom'.It sobered us back to our senses, no doubt.
'Do not swear' was definately one of the don'ts.
One of my older sister's favourite memory is of her first days in her boarding school.
That was St.Joseph's Convent in Kalimpong.My dad and my uncle had travelled to kalimpong with her.
My brother had already joined the school a year earlier.
My sister could not be convinced to stay back so they had to take her back ,after much cajoling she finally came to a consensus on a walky talky and another toy for her brother.
Once in school she became quite engrossed in her toy so my father and my uncle left the school premises.
As soon as she realised she had been left behind she was quite heart-broken.
A month later my uncle visited them to see how they were doing and this smart missy with a french haircut walked into the room .She accepted whatever tucks uncle had got for her ,took out a half chewed dried cheese from her pocket,handed it to my uncle with the instructions,-'please give this to my mother'  and coolly walked off.
My uncle ,the softie who has always doted on his only sister ,with a lump in his throat ,carried that piece of saliva soaked cheese almost two hundred kilometres away and faithfully handed it over to my mother.
What is it about mothers? We never really outgrow them do we?



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