I,Me,My,Mine

I think we probably were in 7th grade or so when we were introduced to terms I, Me My, Mine by our English teacher Mr Lanke. Actually, though we had English as a subject from 5th grade, he was the one who made foundations of English grammar solid by getting it mugged from us in a lyrical pattern. So the whole class used to recite after him,'I, Me, My, Mine, He, She, It, They, Them, Their, Theirs' and we automatically learnt it by heart. He had some different rhythm for, He, She, His Her etc, unfortunately. that I don't remember like the first one. 

I, Me, My Mine. In fact, they encompass the whole world. If you omit these, is anything left?

How long I remember being me? 

I was born in Panchmarhi, a beautiful hill station situated in Satpura ranges in today's Madhya Pradesh. In those days it was known as Central Province Central India [CP, CI] to a middle class Marathi couple having an illustrious background. My father's family-owned lands in acres and practically were landlords. Albeit in a different way because my grandfather was a double graduate in that era and was a well-revered figure in the province. My mother came from a family of Diwan Bahadurs where her paternal uncle was BE from Manchester and father was Mamaletdar in British Raj. Unfortunately due to the turns of the events both families had to see bad days because my maternal grandfather died when my mother was seven or around while due to land reforms my father became penniless within no time and we became lower-middle family with just existence.

It's really surprising though I was born in Military Hospital I never had a birth certificate. So whatever birth date was put while seeking admission in primary school stuck with me. It did bother me, but slowly, maybe years after, I made truss with the fact and got over the sense of injustice.

Even though we stayed in Panchmarhi till I was five or so, my memories of my birthplace were[are] very distinct. So much so that, I, in coming years could always visualize the entire topography vividly with details to the last. Our bungalow was situated on the edge of a valley which was densely forested. Visit by the leopard , even striped tiger was a frequent event and stories about somebody caught, always circulated. Our sweeper, I still remember her name, Dhania too was the victim. The bedroom situated on the farthest end of the bungalow, many a time was visited by the serpentine guests and I remember my mother recoiling with fear taking me and my brother, senior to me by 2 years under her umbrage in the front hall waiting for my father to return from his work in the military offices. Another frequent visitor from the jungle was a spider, the species was so big that it could have easily measured up to the size of a closed fist. 'Makdi' was feared for another reason because even a casual touch by it used to give a severe allergic reaction. Eruptions used to be so big that if on the face, they gave disfiguring scars lasting for a long time. I remember visiting a daughter in law from the next bungalow who had to face the ordeal. Her face I still remember was no less than ghastly.

I was a naughty child and though always heard all the stories above, did not fear to venture out on my own. I never liked clothes on my torso [ even today I like to be as near as possible to the mother nature] but as the paths were rough and had a lot of thorny bushes along sides, shoes were must. So once, sans any clothes, even for shame, but with shoes, on to protect feet from biting thorns I had ventured out without telling anybody to have a dip in a small rivulet about a mile and a half from the house, known as 'Zaria'. And of course, there erupted big havoc.' Benurwar's son is missing' was the chant, mostly fearing, whether the boy is taken away by a wild cat or fell off the steep edge in the valley. Totally unaware of the drama that went on for hours I returned home fresh after a nice dip in the water in my birthday suit! Now I don't remember the faces of my parents, but one thing is sure that I was neither scolded nor reprimanded nor had few spanks on my posterior but got a tight hug from both, with tears flowing freely from the eyes.!

I and my brother hardly spoke Marathi, which I find intriguing. Maybe because my father came from the same adjoining area he might be more conversant in Hindi. But it was sure that till the age of 5 for me and 7 for my brother we never spoke Marathi!

Being in military services many daily chores were taken care of by the attendants allotted by the army. So we had Nimbuji who used to bring his buffaloes in the front yards and Benurwars used to get more than dairy fresh milk because he used to milk them in front of us in our own utensils. Lukewarm frothy milk was no less than divine. We had it until we left the place.

I and my brother had personal attendants to look after us. Mine was Halaku while my brother's was Michael. Being Christian Michael was more erudite while Halaku, as the name suggested, came from lower caste so was more submissive but definitely more caring and loving than Michael! Of course, even being high-class Brahman my father, never bothered about such class and caste discrepancies and so I used to happily roam all over Panchmarhi on Halaku's broad shoulders. No ritual of a bath after climbing down from his shoulders. Really my father was way ahead of times in many respects. Religion was only one minuscule from them.

Surrounded by small hillocks and big mountains from all the sides Panchmarhi was more than picturesque. Sitting on the steps taking one to the main hall of the bungalow, was the spot for endless games. Dhoop Gargh was visible while sitting on the steps. on the left hand while bang opposite in front, towards Northwest, was Chaurya Gargh. Dhoop Gargh was nearer and more visible and some sadhus used to reside there.in tents or were they caves ?. The kerosene lanterns they used to light in the evening and night used to be visible from our bungalow and it was game to count them. It was a sight to watch when they swayed on the loft of air but looked eerie if you thought how in the first place, they hanged from nowhere?

To Be Continued As I ME MY MINE