A Picnic to the Zoo, and a New Year Resolution

A Picnic to the Zoo, and a New Year Resolution

On Sunday the 20^th Jan 2013 we made it to the Delhi Zoo, perhaps after a lapse of twenty long years. This was with a mission to familiarise Chakku - sorry- Aditya. Aditya by his own self addressing system has corrected us from calling him ‘Chakku’. He only takes his name ‘Aditya” and we have no other option but to follow suit. Chakku will soon get into archives as Aditya is emerging strongly.

Zoo had Lion, giraffe, tiger, bear, deer, crocodile, swans, ducks, pelicans, parrots monkeys and many more were there. He liked them or not, but from his enthusiasm it seemed he enjoyed the over four km walk in the clean environment. Normally he is being taken to concrete-electronic jungle “the mall” but this time, it was for a change.

Recently I took part in a “New year Fun- Resolution’ contest held by TERI. My entry was selected for the first prize. I reproduce the entry below, but on the subject I wish to state that my entry was selected not because it was any literary marvel, but for the reason that scholars in TERI did not whole-heartedly took part. I had won a first prize on another occasion too.

The prize winner resolution was like

I will pedal my bicycle to office, drink from the tap and say no to recycled water,

Will have tea with Gur and Tulsi  in a mud pot, ‘n’ say no to cup of China Clay.

Switch off A/C, use inland letter pad to write a mail, and stop e-mail henceforth.

Carry a Motorola walky-talky, ’n’ will throw away my Nokia X2.

Take a dip in Yamuna River once a week and call CM’s help line ‘181’ when in need.

Put on a Gandhi topi and a Khadi Kurta to office ‘n’ say no to Polyester and Terry-cot.

Switch off FM when playing ‘Chipkale….. Fevicol Se… and

Will only listen to music when playing Meri Man ki Ganga Aur Teri Man ki Yamuna ke

Bol Radha Bol Sangam Hoga ki Nahin…..

Mushkil Hey, Magar Na mumkin bhi Nahim !

A Confession, An obituary, a Regret and more

A Confession, An obituary, a Regret and more

Amnesia, is it that, makes me forget a thing in a minute or two. Of late, it becomes hard to recall a thing I remembered a minute or so back, it is becoming tough by day. Many a ‘things to do’ does not figure in the day’s ‘list of things done’ at the end of the day. May be I have to resort to some kind of tonic for boosting memory.

I remember solidly my memory power that on a fine afternoon session in Class X, my Sir, respected V P Narayanan Nair- who is no more- caught me straying out of the window while he was lecturing the non-detail “Tarapatham”. He threw a piece of chalk, which hit my forehead and raised his finger pointer, asking me stand abrupt up, shooting a question from the lesson he was lecturing. Double sure to beat me literally with the cane, it was a long sentence, a stretch of twenty to thirty words, that he poked on me. I was shaken for a moment. But recalled all what I heard last and recited back without any error. The boys went on a loud crack, and Sir had to retreat.

A Teacher-revered- Fr. Paul Koodapuzha was the Principal of Holy Angels School, Sahibabad, when we ‘migrated’ to Sahibabad from South Delhi. Father was very kind in admitting Swapna and Lisa in Class V and III respectively. Seeing Swapna’s zeal for reading, he used to lend her books from his personal collections. He was the Principal and Head of English in the School and simultaneously held responsibility of the Parish Priest. I was selected to be the Secretary of the Parish Council at his instance. We together worked to bring new vigour in the Church community. All parishioners, then a ninety -family strong community, took part in the newly introduced changes for good. I had Fr. Paul’s whole hearted support to get things brought to the community  which  became catalysts to church’s many social initiatives. Introduction of the Celebration of the Parish Day with sports and cultural programmes being one of them. Vincent D Paul Society was brought to Sahibabad Parish.  

Father  left for his heavenly abode. His last days were in Bharananganam.  He succumped to Cancer. He was a disciplinarian in all respect. Not known for any unhealthy eating habits or smoking or drinking.  Robin Joseph, father’s nephew- had invited me for the  memorial mass( 41^st day) at Sahibabad. It was held in the Convent. Father’s lively smile  still afresh, I noticed persons who were close to him missing in his memorial. It was also a revisit of old faces. The mass was conducted by Fr. John Prakash, a friend and longtime associate of Fr. Paul himself.

Once I had an altercation with Fr. Prakash, in the church. I was overboard in the act, it was more so for instant publicity which I used to enjoy. I should have realized the fact that though father was making a false statement from the Altar, he was doing his job, and that he was trying to do it diplomatically in his style. Anyhow, it was his job he was carrying out, which I interrupted with my inflated, plummeted ego. Later, years after, realizing my fault, I called him over phone, and apologized. Sincerely hope he took it in the right spirit  and forgave me. On the memorial day when we met after the Holy Mass we hugged each other and I appologised in person once again. If it was for an ordinary person, I would n’t have gone for any repentance. But here the other person I hurt with my words was no ordinary. He was a respected preacher, a scholar, a person held in high esteem by the church and school community and also senior to me in age, he also qualifies to be respected for the reason that he has gave away his personal luxuries for the cause of the church. Though I scored an immediate point, lost a long-time friend and left a scar of guilt of hurting a person, which I could have avoided. Sorry father, I regret.