Schooling to life-Queen Mary's

6. Queen Mary’s School

School was like school, cool, fun, part of life.
Shashi and I were together, 2 years apart. When she was taken the first day, she slapped the poor “Nun’ who quietly shooed my parents away. You see, she was always the pampered one and I, the?? Inhibited, introverted, ‘not my moms preferred one’, or so I felt.

I thought she got the bigger half of the Apple when we each got our halves. Early on she gained in size and mother made sure to get the clothes stitched to her size and I would get her hand me downs later.
Once she stubbornly stood under the cold water tap in winter and as mother pulled her out, she bit her. Watching, I froze but my Bladder lost control and I froze some more.
The Chaprasi (peon) would take us to the School on his Bicycle, Shashi on the Danda in front and me at the back. I must have been swaying my legs and one got caught in the spokes of the wheel. For many a days, I had suffered.
Shashi somehow was always lacked in ‘Immunity’ and got the fever. She would then really get special treatment, off from School, Fresh Orange juice and a lot else.

I the elder sib had to look after her when Miss Frogett (or some such name) came to report that the Bell had gone for going home and she was still asleep. As I woke her, I remember her undies showing, in her slumber and me totally embarrassed.
Later in High School, she had also fainted on one occasion with the smell of Alcohol during a Science experiment and I was called, to do what I do not remember.

We remained each others’ shadow throughout till today and somewhere subtly; she started to take care of me, not just me but all family, in all kinds of ways, actually behaving like the elder.

At School the Teachers were mostly nice.
One of my favorites was the English, Mrs. Ramsden, who we later heard, was Mrs Ram Sadan till her trip to UK. ‘She’ would actually favor me, reading my essays in class to the class. She wrote in my autograph book when we went to the next class, “Veena you are a good student, you can be a leader too. Develop this trait in yourself”. It always stayed in my mind and somewhere I have always heard those words ring in my ears when my Heart has palpitated in front of a group for no reason at all.
Another was Mrs. David, the one of Higher Math. One day I made some mistake, she asked me to wipe off ‘Theta’ from the Black board and throw it out of the window, in a fit of fury.

I cannot forget the Lunch breaks. A bunch of us including Nandini would sit under the Tree, shielding our Tiffin boxes from the Crows and Cheels that were hovering around for their share of the Paranthas with mango Pickle. There were loud narrations of PG Woodhouse and the like, and much merry laughter.

Parents didn’t have to go through home work much but Babuji knew what we were upto. He encouraged language and Sciences. He would also encourage us to write essays, Diary of events, detailed description of holiday travels etc.
He chose our Subjects and he chose our clothes when shopping, often to the resentment of our mother. He domineered, he had humor, and he was revered by all extended family and was affectionate to us. Every one slept on Charpais outside on the roof or baramda in the summer. He would stealthily watch over us children when he woke during the middle of the night and pull up the sheet or adjust the ‘Machhardani’ (Mosquito-net).

He was also by then, the Principal Income Tax Officer of Central Delhi. Being children of senior govt. employee we always had special privileges like movie passes, going to the best Restaurants, staying at Hotels in special rooms, lots of domestic help etc. which all seemed wonderful then. However as I grew I felt father flaunted his powers and we would be embarrassed and began to rebel somewhat.

Growing up, I always knew I was a girl ????? –
As tiny buds started growing out of the chest I was perplexed and tried to press them down.
As they started to swell I was directed to wear ’Chunni’ for cover.
The hair in the pits of the arms and the place below were emerging and I wished I could stop them or pluck them away forever.
The spots of dark blood in the ‘Salwar’ was excruciatingly confusing, embarrassing, an
un-understood leak from a private place.

When mother discovered, she expressed ‘sympathy and sadness’ that I was now grown like all others and my body was going to get rid of ‘dirty’ blood every month continuously for 5 days. I was to hide it. I was to use pads to be discarded by me in the garbage when no one was looking.
I was also to wash my own underclothes during those days; the more I rubbed the more the red spots turned yellow. Where could I hang them to dry? ----Where could I hang my growing pains????

My Music classes were in the evening. I would walk via a crowded Square. Some men harshly brushed passed. Some men peered at my hidden breasts and I would pull my ‘chunni’ over them. Once an unknown man grabbed my one breast quickly and then disappeared into the crowds in the Square. Feelings of ‘shame’ would surface later in life only to disappear in the Square of my consciousness and then recede to some inner depth.

My friend Prabha was wearing a Bra, which gave her firmness as she ran on the net-ball field. Mother brought it up when Shashi, who was growing fast to catch up with me, required it also. Once chosen, the Bra would thoroughly choke me, damn the Breasts I thought.
Little did I realize the importance of the most important part of the female Biology, not just the ‘nurturing the baby’ but a lot else too.

I wonder now, why Mrs. Gogia who made us dissect Frogs pinned to a waxen Board did not enlighten us, girls, on this, so vital an education about the most vital part of not just our Anatomy but how it would effect us , everyday of our lives in some way or another.

Mrs. David’s math, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Panditjis Shudhh Hindi and of course the Essays all got over soon. I beat Prabha and topped. Prabha had been my best friend who went away to Bombay, graduated from famous Elphinstone College, met Suresh, a Handsome Maharashtrian Boy on Marine Drive, married and lived happily ever after.

What we did was a lot different after ‘Queen Marys’.

Veena