THE LONG TREK TO SCHOOL
Our village, though small, was a vibrant one. My best friends lived barely a wave, a gentle shout or a stone’s throw away, ever ready to help in any situation. Others friends were my classmates from surrounding villages. During the monsoon season the incessant rains flooded our usual winding paths through the fields. It was then sheer joy and fun to take the long way to school and back home.
We rushed home after school, had tea, expecting some sweet dish that grandma would make and then played football in the improvised grounds on the outskirts of our little village. These were actually rice fields cultivated by our neighbours. We waited patiently till the water and earth dried after the monsoon harvest and temporarily turned the fields into play grounds. We played till the village chapel bell rang for Angelus at dusk when everybody was expected to return home for prayers.
Time passed on and soon the older boys passed their Matric exams. The younger boys took their place to become into senior boys in turn. Some ex-students boys found jobs as teachers in the School at Monte, some worked in nearby towns, while others went to Bombay and elsewhere to pursue further education, and a few went abroad for employment. Then finally it was my turn to be a big boy. I was soon to lead the rest of the younger boys in the village. I missed the big boys especially Miki, my brother Jack, Cosme, Johnny - the stalwarts of the fifties that led the way through the monsoon season, carrying the youngest ones over their shoulders while crossing the flooded streams, keeping us close to them when strong gusts of wind threatened to take away our umbrellas, and lending us a helping hand to climb up the steep slopes of Monte. I tried to help and impart the same leadership of my predecessors through the years up to my SSCE. Oh, how I miss those days! Until the next time!
No comments:
Post a Comment