Random Ramblings of a Reluctant Blogger

(Names have been changed to protect the identity of certain people considering their celebrity status!).

One of the things one learns early in school is forging friendship and teamwork. And at times the best friendship is forged in adversity. It was sometime in early ’71 and I had just joined a new school in Mumbai (then Bombay) and being Bombay it was not surprising that a few celebrities (read filmwala) kids were a part of it. 

For me, though it was of little consequence. Movies then were just a rare occasion and the celebrity circus now being played out was almost non-existent. If we were aware it was because some or the other kid told who was who. And that’s how I came to know Sameer Thakur was one of those whose father was connected with the film industry.

For me though, he was just as naughty as any 11-year-old-kid would be, without being a brat. One of the guys who would somehow or the other have the class in splits, was also the favourite of the teachers, being academically good. And kids that we were, our humour quotient was very much on the low scale and anything, or almost everything would have us in peals of laughter. Which further goaded him to keep us entertained. That he was the tallest amongst us also meant we looked up to him. We were seated according to our height and I, being all of just four feet, shared my desk with Ganesh Pai in the front row. The school functioned in shifts and I was in the morning shift.

Sameer used to get away with any number of pranks. (How far was that influenced by his father’s position? I am not sure). And one such prank landed him in direct confrontation with Prabhu Karmakar, also a son of a celebrity (Once again read filmwala). We never could find out what had transpired between them, but just that it had taken the shape of a fight between morning shift and afternoon shift.

And one morning Sameer called us and said that they had decided to settle scores during the recess.  Nothing is more exhilarating to boys than a collective farcass. And there we were, some 10 to 12 of us, punny, frail, but high on enthusiasm, walking along with Sameer to the ‘war zone.’  

Each one of us practised the moves we thought we would employ. But our enthusiasm fizzled out in no time as we saw the ‘enemy’ team assembled there. Every one of them much taller and stronger than any one of us. Some of our team members quickly tried a retreat, but the opponents soon swooped in on them. I and Ganesh were just behind Sameer and even before we could realise what was happening a sturdy fellow lifted Sameer off the ground and started swinging him as a hammer thrower would do to a hammer. I closed my fists and swung hard so that the ‘giant’ releases Sameer. I realised my punch had landed when a shooting pain hit my knuckles. The pain apart, knowing that the punches landed emboldened me and I landed in a few more, By now some of the school attenders realising what was happening broke up the brawl. The great big fight was over in a few seconds and fortunately for us given that we were out-thrashed.

 None of us bore any visible signs, like a  black eye or so, but thrashed we certainly were. Those who watched the tamasha from the sidelines could not suppress their laughter as the defeated warriors trooped in.

At the principal’s office both the protagonists were dismissed with a simple warning. When Sameer reached the class he asked us to assemble before we left for our homes. Was another fight in the offing? No it was not. And we realised Sameer had just one question on his mind. “Which one of you hit me?” he asked. It was then that I realised all the punches I had landed were on my teammate! I kept quiet though.

On the bus back home, I confided this to Ganesh and he chuckled saying he thought he was the only one who had hit Sameer!. Secrets shared, we both couldn’t help but laugh. 

Defeated though that we were, a smile and a sense of pride  engulfed us.  

 A pride, the misdirected punches and the results notwithstanding, coming from the realisation that we  stood up and fought.