It has been a long time since I have written something. I had been stuck with exams. Too much of studies can hamper your brain and my brain is still in its recovery period. I have got no subject in my mind right now to write about, but what is the harm in trying? So here I am pressing down the keys on the keyboard that seem inviting and meaningful. But what do I speak about?
Well now comes something…
I hope you all know that I am a badminton player, and I was one at 11 too. I got selected into the Kerala schools team for the National School Games that was to be held at Mandya. Then Mandya seemed like a place away from world itself, may be because my world was too small and it had only people and places that I have ever set my eyes upon. My memory of that trip is really funny because it consists of a few weird incidents, weird emotions, strange people, yellow lit room, chilly nights and heavy sweaters, dirty toilets, a plate that I had taken along, as per the team manager’s instructions, to eat food from…
Maybe I can get some more if I dig deeper!
That was the very first time I was travelling without my parents, but with heavy luggage. I still can recall the feel of that annoying sore shoulder I had after carrying my kitbag wherever the team went. I was not a trouble to the team I guess because I don’t remember me crying amme kaananam (want to see my mother!) and all. I can recall nothing of the train journey towards Mandya but the first scene that I remember happens in a yellow lit room.
Somebody asks me to find a place for myself to keep my bags and I do so, I look around the room and see picture charts on the wall (yeah it was a class room). Some were torn and some were yellower than the yellow light bulb. Most of them were vegetables and fruits chart, because I remember me selecting the veggies that I love and hate in each chart, but soon I quit it as all charts gave me the same few options to select from. I then sit on a bench and look at my team mates walking, brushing their hair, talking, laughing, shouting, fighting over a place for their bags and what not. All of them were senior to me I guess because I don’t remember making friends with anybody but adding chechi (elder sister-to show respect) post every one’s names. I remember staring at P C Thulasi (she was the best in the team then and one of the best players of India at present) with awe from the bench that I was perched up on. And there that scene ends…
Here I am folding up my track pants by my waist to reduce its length; I am doing it a lot of times as my mirror image disappoints me after each trial. Then I hear somebody shouting my name and I panic but successfully run to the source of that call and I don’t remember getting scolded in front of everyone for being late so that must have not happened or maybe it has…anyway I report wherever the team was supposed to be reported and I think I was helped with my track pants by one of the chechis. We as a team wearing the same color track-suites (I don’t remember where we went walking, but I remember us walking in two lines wearing the same colored clothes) walked with the coaches and managers leading us. Then I remember a tall and lean sir, our manager I guess, giving a talk about discipline and dignity. I remember it only because in the later years we did make a lot of fun about it…
In the next scene it is night. I am walking with my team, probably the friendly ones, holding the plate that I had mentioned before, by my tummy. The footpath looks clean and even unlike the uneven and dirty ones that I am used to in my home town. That interests me and I place each step in a funny pattern. I might have had my own reasons for walking like that but the lady manager found it too annoying that she pulled me by my collar and asked me to walk beside her. There and then began my battle against the lady managers.
We are at the place where the food is available. It was another school where the boys stayed. The food has not got a place in my memory so that mustn’t have been unbearable. I remember playing a game that needed a lot of running; I had loved playing that but once the current goes off and all the lights goes out leaving the ground dark. The coaches cum managers’ starts whistling with their whistles and we all gather at a corner until the light comes. I remember having a lot of fun being the youngest kid over there…
Then there is another funny/embarrassing incident that happened there. All of us had been sitting on a stage cross legged, well I am not sure how others sat but I was sitting cross-legged. I suppose we sat there listening to that tall and lean sir again, but I have no idea of what he must have been talking about. I remember all of us having oranges together. Then it was orange that I was in love with among the fruits, (now it is grape and a year back it had been apple) knowing that there was a chechi who bought me oranges every time we passed a vendor. All in the team had been really sweet to me and I will forever be grateful to them for that.
My parents had given me a mobile phone for the journey so that they could talk to me whenever and wherever it was. It was one of the very first models of the Nokia series and it was huge for a cell phone. It played a loud and irritating tone when somebody called, I was so not used to having something like that with me, and often I failed to realize the source of all the noise, until somebody told me that it was my phone. Well the incident happened when we all (me cross-legged) sat on the stage eating oranges and listening to/hearing our manager. I was so engrossed into the conversations that were happening around me. Open mouthed. Suddenly something somewhere starts vibrating and a loud noise erupts from that something. I, who was sitting cross-legged jumps up that moment and scream/gasp out loud, it takes me another second to realize that it was just my phone ringing and that there were no intimidating ghosts over my head. Again everyone was really sweet to me by just laughing over it and not letting me feel any level of embarrassments…
These are all that has stayed with me from my very first trip alone (without parents). It is funny as there is nothing I can recall of the matches the Kerala team played or what I used to do when my team was on court battling it out (I obviously stood no chance in helping the team to victory). Somehow this first trip gives me only vague details of it…
School nationals are always special. There happens a lot of bonding, a lot of memories, a lot of friends and a strong intimacy with the train that we travel in. I have been in team for five years and each year presented me with variety of experiences. I have had my best time during these events, and I have learned many things. I have also met the few people that have become very special and important persons in my life during these events. I will have no more school nationals to go for because I am no more a school student. School nationals’ will definitely top my charts of favorite experiences.
Well that was not bad for one who is recovering from her writer’s block!!...
