Random Ramblings of a Reluctant Blogger

There are moments in your life that, though ensconced in the deep recess of the memory bank, spring up at particular moments or jump up as a response to some catch phrases. The following childhood incident never fails to make an appearance whenever Jallikattu (a bull taming sport prevalent in Tamil Nadu during Pongal) is mentioned. Not that the event happened anyway close to this period, but memories have their own logic.

It was the start of the 70s in Madras, as Chennai was called then. My family travelling from Mumbai (then Bombay) had joined a host of relatives to celebrate the marriage of my aunt.

Weddings for us kids, was a holiday wherein rules and regulations are put into cold storage. The elders have their usual tensions and the pressures, while we kids are left unattended. It is unfettered fun. Weddings those days weren’t ‘evolved’ (as some would point out). All we kids had to do was slip on some new clothes, which wasn’t any different from what we wear regularly. And in any case an hour into the new dress it was all the same. We weren’t asked to be a part of some skit, or rehearse some dance steps, nor were the designers draping us to fit into some theme. All the kids did was to make the most of the freedom.

Now adjacent to this marriage hall, where we all were gathered, was some civil work going on. Consequently a big portion of the road was dug up and it had morphed into a huge pit (the present condition of roads remaining much the same is purely coincidental). What it meant for us kids was we had extra supplies of materials, pebbles, mud and the works to keep us engrossed.

Making the most of it we jostled, fought and generally made a nuisance of ourselves. It was during one such playtime when I was, all of a sudden, punched from behind. And being the kid I was, I clenched my fists and in all anger swung back and using all of my body threw a punch on to the forehead _ of a calf!

Here, time froze. Had I been made aware of the theory of  relativity I would have recognised the moment. For, while everyone was going about their business, the calf and I were in a separate time zone of our own. My brain, unprepared for the event, was assimilating all the information to make some sense of it. What is the calf doing at the end of my fist? The calf had its own existential  dilemma. Why is this kid punching me back, should he not make way once I had butted him?

Once both were up  to speed with the events that transpired, time returned to its normal course and very sheepishly I stepped away, although still miffed from the uncalled for head butt. 

The calf on its part, having teething troubles with its just-rearing  horns, wasn’t quite done yet. It found a new target and tried out its power on my cousin, a scrawny kid then. Soon he was airborne, all limbs flailing and headed right into the dug-up bottomless pit when a good samaritan plucked him from thin air and deposited him on safe ground. The calf nonchalantly sauntered away, perhaps muttering kids!

The elders were made aware of the incidents very late in the day lest they pull a plug on our fun.

So, Jallikattu anyone? Well, my cousin and I, we have been there.!