You give me these three things and I will not trouble anyone for the rest of my life! ;) Anyway, getting on with what I want to put up today cutting out the nonsense.
Picked this one up from here. We (the original author of this write-up and I) are from the same school. The Get-together of which I missed and wrote about that here. Anyway, let’s get to this one now.
I was in 7th standard when I was selected to my high school’s cricket team. Naturally enough, it was the happiest day of my life. A moment of quintessential bombaat to be sure.
The news of my selection was delivered by my school’s PT master—and I know I can’t (shouldn’t, rather) use his real name so I’ll just call him UR.
UR, up to that point, wasn’t exactly my favourite person in the world. He verbally abused us every chance he got especially during Saturday mid-morning drills. To
wit:* “Lo kothi, ninnanna yaaro yelnay claas-ige paas maadidhu? Leftoo andre yedagaalu kanole, idiot!”
* Or the ever popular rhetorical question: “Nimmappa amma yaak school-ige kalustharo ninna? Sumne manelidhu katte kaayakke laayak neenu.”
This was pretty standard stuff as I’m sure you’ll agree.
Anyway, the first day of cricket practice was a Wednesday. We got done with classes at 3:30 pm. My classmate (who was also selected) and I pedaled over to the cricket ground a short distance away.
The rest of the team, i.e. the chaps from 9th and 10th standards, showed up a half-hour late. We were told to help carry the mat onto the field. In short, we were cricket coolies.
The stumps were pitched. The practice batting and bowling orders were announced. We were not present in either one. So I assumed I was part of the unannounced fielding order and stood at point because no one was standing there. I was asked, sorry, told, to go and do byes keeping.
It dawned on me that the seniors of this team had had no creative input in UR’s decision to select us lowly 7th standard guys. And they didn’t think much of the
idea.My classmate and I (he was doing byes keeping on the leg side) exchanged looks. The looks said, “I hope no one from our class stops by to watch cricket practice today.”
After all our seniors had batted, bowled and humiliated us it was almost time to wrap up. And that’s when UR showed up. “Yenappa, yellaroo battingoo bowlingoo maadidhraa?” The captain (bastard!) said “Yes sir. Yellardoo practice aaithoo.”
And then UR did something he wasn’t supposed to. He looked at me and my classmate and asked, “Yenraiyaa, yengithu practicoo ivathu?”
I blurted out, “Namige batting siglillaa sir.”
And right there, at that moment, my chances of ever playing for the school team while I was still in 7th standard thudded softly into the grass.
UR took charge. “Neenu pad maadkolaiya. Naan practice kodistheeni. Lo baddimaklaa”—this to the rest of the team—“banro svalpa bowlingoo fieldingoo maadrappa ivribbarge!”
So, having only played tennis ball cricket up to that point, I put on pads for the first time in my life. They were too big for me. When I walked, the top of the pads slammed into my stomach.
The old style belt and buckle pinched my ankes, calves and at the back of the knees. Still in the process of padding up, I picked up this plastic cup that I knew, in theory, to be the (then euphemistically called) abdomen guard. It had no straps
whatsoever. So I did a little bit of 3D mental manipulation to figure out how I
was supposed to rig this contraption so it would protect my, you know,
abdomen.Out of my own sense of modesty I’ll omit the rest of the details. Suffice it to say however, that after I’d put on the abdomen guard, the only way I could walk was with my legs spread wide – like a Dasara Kesari pailvaan approaching his next victim at the beginning of his kusthi match.
I walked up to the stumps. Legs spread wide (for aforementioned reasons), I took my stance. UR had ambled up to point to get a closer look at his two new junior players.
My other classmate, in the process of padding up behind slips, was holding an
abdomen guard with the same quizzical expression on his face that I had a few minutes ago.One of my seniors ambled up and bowled one short on the off. All I saw was a whistling flash of red. Mustering all the strength I could—“MADAGOO!” yelled UR from point—I heaved the bat and swung.
Missed completely. Got turned around because of the momentum of the bat. Ended up, facing square leg (and what seemed like) a lifetime of embarrassment.
UR delivered the coup de grace, “Neen hodioyoshtralli, naan canteeng hogi cawpee kudkond bandhbidbodhu kanaiya.”
And that was when, for the rest of my life, I fell in love with cricket. Thumba
thanksoo, UR.
The UR he is talking about is Uncle Ranga, our PE (Physical Education) instructor. And yeah, we used to call our teachers as uncles and aunties then. He used to be our cricket coach and I have played under him both as player and captain of our school team. And he’s the best you can have. And when Mr. Alfred Satish Jones says thanks he echoes the voice of every single student who has passed out of CFTRI school under UR! You are Uncle Ranga, You really are THE BEST!
Adi,
I did not study at CFTRI but my cousins did (one older and one younger)… Even so I played in a cricket game at CFTRI thanks to UR..
So I was in Mysore on vacation but my cousin (older one) still had school. One day I end up in the middle of a game between 2 classes at CFTRI… suddenly UR (I think he had a mush then) spies me and says.. “yarappa ee hudugaa?”.. my cousin pipes up… “nann thamma uncle.. Bangalore inda bandiddane.. aatakke join agthananthe”.. suddenly his voice booms out at the guy who was batting… “Lo saaku kano nee batting adiddu.. paapa huduga Banglurinda bandidane.. kodo battingu avanige”…
so thats how I got to play…
calling teachers as uncle and aunty is really funny,…. i laughed so much at gowtham when he told me about it.
You used to call them uncle and aunty to tease them or was it what you were supposed to call them?? Gosh! :)))))
I used to hate PT Class when in school,our PT Sir & Madam always used to make girls play carroms and boys cricket and we girls used to while away precious game time with lame gossip..!!
LOL!! on calling your teachers as uncles and aunties! too much!
Yeenu full one post after another on CFTRI? Full senti huh after missing the get-together?
Vijay:
LOL! UR is such a great person that nobody who has been in CFTRI and studied under him (PE is also studies only) can go untouched by his persona. I would rate you as a lucky guy to have had that experience at my school!
Preethi:
I know. Whenever I say this to anyone who hasn’t had any connection with CFTRI School, they do laugh their heart out. But little do they know that by not calling my teachers as “Ma’m”, “Miss” or any such supposedly “respectable” address tag, we developed a deep bond with our teachers by calling them “Uncles” and “Aunties”. The deepth is reflected in the fact that even the alumni of 1970s come to our get-together today and give rousing tributes to their “Aunties” and “Uncles”. Once you call your teachers that, the school becomes your home. And that bond is carried wherever we might go.
I was told that Gowtham is doing a CFTRI get-together in the US. Now, that’s bonding with the school for you. It may never come to the fore and might remain as an understated topic forever, but I feel that by calling our teachers that there was a certain innocence and respect inherently attached. And that respect is what stays with us throughout.
Hardu:
We were supposed to call them that! :)
Jo:
In our school, it was totally different. The girls were made to play throwball. And everyone was supposed to involve themselves in it. Anyone who wanted to sit out of the game had to have a valid reason to do so. And there were girls in my class who used to feign illness and just stroll around the ground talking to each other and chatting and gossipping. Ironically today they are very health conscious! :)
Shark:
LOL! But we never felt strange about it you know. Even then people used to laugh at us. But we used to explain with great detail as to what it meant to us. Like what Preethi has got above!
And yeah regarding getting senti, it wasn’t so much about missing the get-together, it was the post. The post really ignited so many memories in me that I really wanted to sit and recall each one of them (memories) and enjoy! The best way was to put up a post on it! :)
It was awesome to see the student who study in the CFTRI assemble and share!! U have nice memories, like to read more about your school days and cricket.
“we used to call our teachers as uncles and aunties” totally different. good morning aunty, good evening uncle :)
Jeevan:
Thanks for your comment!:)
Totally different. Yeah. We used to really like that. Even today when we meet them anywhere, we say aunty and uncle only. And even they like being referred that way.