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Of those free days

There were Occasions of  Free Talk. They were not exactly the days of childhood; they were somewhere in later years of High school and earlier days of College. Wasted lot many days during those time; debated on what could be a topic and what could not be a topic. And there was an immense sense of righteousness; how it is possible that it can be incorrect ?  Played chess for hours and nights, with daylight and lanterns; discussed why we we are really stronger than US; put thousand of green, yet having red fusion,  Litchis, in water so that they get sweetness. We were not bothered about what people think about you; and its not like that people were not taking notice of you behavior; they were, but we were simply immune. Why Knight is stronger than  Queen; why I hate Mango, why Litchi is the best fruit, why this Prime Minister can't become fast ( IK Gujaral was the prime minister); how to check it is Chicken or Mutton curry, and why I hate fish and like curry of Chicken or Mutton. There were likes and dislikes. If you dislike eating Fish you will simply, not eat it. There was no room of adjustment. There were no theory of compromise.

Compromise for many a things, ironically, germinated in those days only.  There were shadows or elements of what could symbolize the thought that in coming time there will be chances of struggle. I used to play Chess with Maternal Uncle (Mamaji) and he liked to play Chess with his brother-in-law (Wife's brother); both of them I called Mamaji.  It did not use to be a mentally high Chess tournament; rather the steps were quite predictive; and I use to win a lot which was the boring part; the real match used to happen with these two Mamajis. There were statements like - not every one should play Chess to the taunts that, why you are taking so much time. If you must have food in between (for other family members are simply annoyed) then if you are praising food in between, simply meant that, yes,  I have a real wish to play more. While game was going on, electricity was distant, Lantern was on (and some time even moonlight was sufficient, we used to play on House's roof), Radio was tuned with News, and our analysis of News was immediate. The air was fresh (I went to Mamaji's home, a village; rather developed one); you call it breeze, sky was not cloudy but appeared deep black when Night advanced, Moon was clean and had useful light. There were the distant sound of Trees, of Jugnoos, of Jackals and in between there was bark of our Dogs. Dogs are engaged in their stories, if you don't play Chess you will give ears to them, and if you are normal person you will relate their barks with some problem or some story. These were the chirrups,  and in between there were echoes of Check, Cheque, Chek, Maat, Maaat, Shah- Maat.

Little I stressed over the fact that these two Mamajis were unemployed.  They had money, they wasted a lot, but they were unemployed. Was it the problem of their generation, I cannot summarize. But they were unemployed and I had to become employed. So you must pass examinations and thus I landed in a College. But even in the College, the anecdote of those Chess days were flushing in and out the relaxing mind, and there was a wish to live an extension of it. Fresh air, Litchis, long nights, clean moon, I wanted all of them in my bowl. But the notion that you will have to compromise eventually (they say, you have to succumb; follow the line) was now resonating with higher and higher beats. So much so that you cannot hear yourself.

Will write more on it in pieces.


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