Flying high-To Kishoreda and everybody

[Guest guest]

Good one,Kishoreda.

I thought,this interesting story would come out ,as one of the initial stories

from ur memory diary,during our first days of inception of this site.

Looks like, u have indeed kept some wonderful stories still, up ur sleeve,for

the future.....

But this Bossgiri(by our own kids) is still on,nowadays and it's getting younger

day by day..

What do I mean,by that?....

Gone r those days,when I would join Sohana,Prabha's Divya and Muthu's Gayatri in

singing nursery rhymes with them,loudly or sipping imaginary tea, or eating

doughy small rotis,made by them all,during their role play at our home..in those

small cups and plates..

They would all enjoy it and so would I.

But these days,if I have to attend the parent-teachers meeting,or if I have to

receive one of her school/classmate or one of the school staff for an eye

check-up,I am briefed by my loving daughter,what I must exactly say,and not

wise-crack(in short)..

When her boisterous and noisy group of friends come over for their regular

3monthly party at our place,we both parents r requested(ORDERED is another

word,for the same),that we must just walk in, to say hello and to serve the food

and soft drinks...then leave,their room .

So,it's still the same...only that thankfully...I haven't goofed it as yet,by

moving around with a Mickey Mouse print undergarment....

Shyam(84)

Flying high

The life of a staff child is not all a bed of roses. There are so many

tensions and worries, which a plain student can never comprehend. The first

problem is that everyone approaches you with caution. It is natural to be

wary of a potentially dangerous person. Secondly, being the progeny of a

staff member means that everyone assumes that you are a worthless idiot, who

has been granted admission just on the basis of your genes.

Then you have to live up to the expectations of everyone. If you score less

marks, everyone just nods his head saying, " I told you so. " And if

perchance, you score spectacularly, they nod their heads again saying, " I

told you so. " Thus life is beyond doubt a tightrope walk.

Nevertheless, there is one anxiety, which is unique to staff children, which

no plain vanilla flavoured student can ever understand or even imagine. This

is much like the stage fright, which novice actors feel when they face an

audience for the first time. However, in this case, it is the first

appearance of your parent in front of your own class.

Sheetal was faced with this unique anxiety. Her Dad was a senior professor

and well respected in academic circles. On the other hand, she had seen her

balding, pot bellied Dad wear Mickey Mouse shorts and go wading at beaches

in Goa. She had also heard him burp and fart quite loudly at home, while

lounging on the sofa in a banyan and a torn lungi. Thus she had no great

illusions about the star quality of her father. But tomorrow he was going to

take an introductory lecture of her own class for the first time.

Every girl wants her father to be looked up to by her friends, though she

may privately have contrary views. Sheetal was no exception. The previous

night, she had gone home from her hostel and exhorted her Dad not to crack

off colour jokes or wear ill matching clothes. In fact, she had chosen the

particular set of clothes she wanted her Dad to wear tomorrow. She had

polished his shoes to a glistening mirror. She had admonished him repeatedly

that his favourite joke about the actress and the pimp was not suitable for

the young, untarnished ears of her classmates. After frantic pleas to keep

sane for the crucial one hour, Sheetal left for the hostel with her fingers

crossed.

It would be an exaggeration to say that Sheetal did not sleep a wink that

night, but not much of one. She tossed and turned hoping all would go well

tomorrow. That night, God must have got a lot of prayers from that one room

in the hostel. Hopefully, God's secretary must not have deleted them from

the Inbox, considering them to be Spam.

===============.

Sheetal's Dad, Professor Pradyuman, was equally tense that night. He did not

want his child to be ashamed of him. He had prepared his speech well. It was

witty yet knowledgeable. He wanted his daughter to be proud of her father.

He woke up in the middle of the night, and pussy footed to the bathroom,

leaving his snoring wife asleep.

He quietly closed the bathroom door and then only switched on the light.

Facing the mirror, he assumed a benevolent but humorous face. He wanted

Sheetal's classmates to think of him as a jovial person, who, though miles

ahead of them in experience and age, was actually young at heart and liked a

chuckle or two. He had peppered his speech with many one-liners and

anecdotes. He cleared his throat and whispered at the mirror, " Hello and

Welcome my young friends to the very first lecture. Actually, I am as

nervous as you are, because this is also my first time. " He had omitted an

off colour joke here about first times. It was quite apt for the situation,

but in deference to his daughter's wishes he had censored himself.

Pradyuman paused momentarily for some imagined polite chuckles, before

continuing, " Every time is my first time, because I see every lecture as an

opportunity to write something fresh and useful on the blank slates of your

minds. " Did that sound too obtuse? He decided to omit that part.

He shoved his hands into his imaginary pant-pockets. Yes! That pose made him

look suave and debonair. He would assume it through the lecture.

Knock! Knock! " Pradyu, are you practicing your lecture inside? " His wife's

strident voice broke his reverie.

" Er, no, I mean, Yes, I mean, just pissing. " He hurriedly pulled the flush

and came out.

==============.

Sheetal was in two minds. Should she sit right in the front, so that if her

Dad made a big boo-boo, she would not have to face the class? Or she could

sit all the way behind, so that she could hide behind a sea of faces? Either

way the choice was tough. She chose to sit right behind, as far away from

others as possible.

She was not too confident of her father, but with yesterday's dose she

expected him to be at least not shameful. The class filled up rapidly. Her

best friend, Amruta, sidled up to her and patted her back. No words were

spoken, but that is what best friends are for.

At that moment, Professor Pradyuman strode confidently to the centre of the

classroom. As everyone stood up, he gave a huge smile and boomed, " Good

Morning! Good Morning! Please be seated. "

Then he carelessly assumed the position with both his hands in his pant

pockets. " Welcome, my young friends, to this very first lecture. " He then

draped his left leg on the table. He assumed that made him look informal and

jovial. As he continued his speech, he was happy to note that his audience

was enjoying each and every word of his. In fact they were laughing out

loudly at even minor jokes.

He looked up proudly at Sheetal, who seemed to be hiding behind a book in

the back row. Pradyuman nodded mentally to himself, " Poor girl must be

jittery that I will crack that joke about the actress and the pimp. "

Now, Professor Pradyuman was on a roll. With such a receptive audience, who

wouldn't be. His slightly humorous points were loudly guffawed at, and his

rollicking anecdotes were greeted with loud laughter. Each time the entire

class would turn back and look appreciatively at Sheetal. However, Sheetal,

poor girl, was so nervous, that she refused to lift her eyes from the book.

Time flits by when you are having a great time, and the Professor was mildly

surprised when he found that his time was up.

He wound up his lecture with a remark, " So, my dear friends, when you have

any difficulty, remember me as your friend, because I am open to

everything. "

A huge resounding clapping and laughter from the audience left a warm glow

in the Professor's heart as he made his way out of the hall.

====================.

Sheetal's mother was very happy. Pradyuman had given her a full report on

how their daughter's classmates had lapped up all his jokes and witticisms.

Pradyuman was not known for his subtlety, but this time he had actually NOT

cracked that one about the actress and the pimp. It was a historical first.

Now the parents were just waiting eagerly to watch their proud daughter

return home.

There went the doorbell. Sheetal was earlier than usual. Professor Pradyuman

tucked his lungi upwards and went to open the door. He had on a 100-watt

smile, much like that Happydent ad. He was so proud of his achievement

today.

The Professor wanted to welcome Sheetal with the words, " And so my dear

child, aren't you proud of your Dad? " But the words froze on his lips when

he saw the smouldering and angry expression on his dear child's face.

Sheetal just stomped into the hall and collapsed into her mother's arms,

sobbing.

The Professor was baffled. He had done nothing to deserve this. So was his

wife. From the account she had heard, her husband had been a resounding

success. She smoothed her daughter's hair and caressed her back before

enquiring gently, " What happened, beta? "

Sheetal looked up teary eyed and shouted, " Daddy messed everything up. "

The Professor was perplexed. " I thought I was wonderful. Everyone was

laughing at my jokes. "

" They were not laughing at your jokes, they were laughing at you! And why

did you have to stand with one thigh on the table and both hands in the

pockets? "

This time the Professor was even more bewildered. " In fact, I thought that

made me look smarter than usual. "

" It does, BUT only if your fly is not open!! And you wore the Mickey Mouse

shorts!!! "

Kishore Shah 1974

(Based on a true story. All names, except mine, have been changed, as

usual.)

[Guest guest]

It seems that you had heard of this story during your student days. It sure

was the talk of MGIMS for a few years. Every new batch was told and retold

this story with relish and added spice. Within a couple of years, it was

part of the Sevagram folklore.

Kishore Shah 1974

Flying high-To Kishoreda and everybody

> Good one,Kishoreda.

> I thought,this interesting story would come out ,as one of the initial

> stories from ur memory diary,during our first days of inception of this

> site.

> Looks like, u have indeed kept some wonderful stories still, up ur

> sleeve,for the future.....

> But this Bossgiri(by our own kids) is still on,nowadays and it's getting

> younger day by day..

> What do I mean,by that?....

> Gone r those days,when I would join Sohana,Prabha's Divya and Muthu's

> Gayatri in singing nursery rhymes with them,loudly or sipping imaginary

> tea, or eating doughy small rotis,made by them all,during their role play

> at our home..in those small cups and plates..

> They would all enjoy it and so would I.

> But these days,if I have to attend the parent-teachers meeting,or if I

> have to receive one of her school/classmate or one of the school staff for

> an eye check-up,I am briefed by my loving daughter,what I must exactly

> say,and not wise-crack(in short)..

> When her boisterous and noisy group of friends come over for their

> regular 3monthly party at our place,we both parents r requested(ORDERED is

> another word,for the same),that we must just walk in, to say hello and to

> serve the food and soft drinks...then leave,their room .

> So,it's still the same...only that thankfully...I haven't goofed it as

> yet,by moving around with a Mickey Mouse print undergarment....

> Shyam(84)