Childhood is a an adventurious journey for children. I had my share of adventures in Deothang Primary School. I loved playing and fooling around with friends at school. I would rush out
of the classroom door at the first strike of the bell for want of playful fun.
I just loved breaks. We had loads of fun with friends but at the
same time we used to be in conflict quite frequently. Often, we fought over trivial reasons. For instance, over a marble game. Yes this is about one of those kid fights of those diddo days. And
this fight was a big fight indeed for me because my opponent was a bit taller
and older than me. He was known by the name Pamo
(or Pawo). I don’t remember the exact reason of our conflict but I do
remember the fight scene vividly. It happened during one of the lunch breaks at the school. Our friends stood in circle
and witnessed the dual combat. We wrestled and tussled, throwing each other
down on the ground. One moment I would be under him and next moment on top –
rolling and tossing. Up sprang on our feet again and pounced likes little
monkeys at each other. Our tongues were shrieking with ego. The callous words
rebuked each other amidst fast thumping breaths. Furious and aggressive as we were,
the battle went on until our shivering legs were barely rigging our whacked
bodies. After a vigorous judo-like wrestling we came to a halt, but still
holding firmly onto our odd positions. Funnily though, we decided to pause for
a moment to regain our breaths. We were dog-tired although our ego would not calm
down. No more words except heavy heart throbs and hot fuming breaths. Sweat was
dripping into our eyes; tears welling inside our eye sockets; our faces
blushing red-hot; the crowd was dead silent! Our fiery eyes met – uncertain and
not as confident as before! We were evenly matched.
Suddenly, I made a move having regained a bit of energy.
Pushing and swinging sideways and tripping his legs I threw him down on the
ground with a big ‘thud’. I pressed him down with all my strength. He struggled
and wriggled trying to overthrow me but in vain. He was soon tired. I got him
pressed under for once with firm certainty and I was determined to maintain that
status. I was dead sure of my triumph. But surprisingly, amidst the calming wheeze
he said to me, “Could you excuse me for a while”? I asked him, ‘why?’ He
answered, “I am not comfortable because my kayra
(belt) has stripped loose and I need to tie it again”. I said, “Very well,
there you go” and let him loose and see him on his feet. Next moment he caught
me by surprise. To my utter astonishment he pounced on me like a vicious tiger.
He grabbed me by my neck and swung me head down. I fell on the ground with his
body weight over me and then he had me under his control. I struggled to free
myself but to no avail. I knew he cheated on me and I did try to tell him but
he was deaf to my words. Rather his sudden and brief victory made him wildly
boastful and rebuked me with all his egoistic vocabularies. He was sworn to
defeat me and to prove his superiority to our friends and above all to me. He
proclaimed, “Don’t you dare me, kid! You can’t! You can’t challenge me, I told
you!” (In Sharchop: Kham tsong may nan, naie
sho ja marba yek pa mai. Shuet)! Just then, ‘tring, tring’ went the bell
and our friends took off. I just happened to repulse strongly at once and was
freed from his grip. We let go of ourselves and rushed after our friends at
full speed.
After school and later in the evening I reported to Aum
Barma back home. She was not happy seeing me with my dress gone haywire and
soiled with dust and dirt. She grumbled, “Why is your dress dragging and
sweeping filthy? What have you been up to at school? How did this happen? Have
you had a fight?” ('Otha Bulenpa' was her famous scolding). She went on with her threatening questions and remarks. I
silently stood there like a statue, and simply letting her words bypass me. As
usual she helped me empty my big drape pockets. She took out the few ragged
books, probably pencil and eraser, and then she put her hand for the plate. To
her utter shock she pulled out an oddly flattened piece of grey aluminium
instead of the plate (kala derma/kala kholom).
As she grabbed and took it out of my big pocket, she exclaimed, “What the hell
is this?” I was dead silent. She gazed at it closely and turned her eyes at me
as she raised the crumbled plate close to my face, and furiously blurted at me,
“Isn’t this your plate? Oh my God, what have you done to your plate! I gave you
this brand new plate earlier this morning and look what have you done now! I
just bought it yesterday and you crushed it today. How can we survive if you
destroy one plate every single day? I don’t have money to buy another. Oh God,
what shall I do with this notorious kid.” I was staring right over my nose at
the plate that that almost turned into a pulp. I realized this had happened
during the fight at school. But I did not have a single word of excuse. I got
the hint of damage that I had done given the thin economy of the family. Indeed,
money was as scarce as winter willows. We lived barely on three square meals a
day. The stock used to be sent by mother from back home. Father hardly visited
us and even if he did, little did he give. Aum Barma was a nun and she was only
taking care of us on sheer goodwill. We were living in one of the cheapest single
rooms that were ravaged by rats and bedbugs. Luckily, the proprietor was a kind
lady by the name ‘Kapchi Ama’ who was good to us.
That day, I think I gave her the saddest shock of her life.
She was indeed unlike herself that day. She was thoroughly infuriated and there
was nothing I could do but stand there, almost frozen. My elder sister silently
observed the scene from the corner of the room. Apparently she was scared too and
probably she knew about the fight and communicated to Aum Barma. Aum Barma was so
mad that she almost hit me or perhaps she hit me. I cannot recall it but even
if she had I think it was worth it. I did not understand then or perhaps I did
but I do now definitely. I deserved all her scolding (or beating) because I
broke her heart. To be precise, it was not the aluminium plate that I crushed that
day but her heart. It would have cost her a few bugs but those few bugs were utterly rare and precious. And yes, she threatened me that I should go to bed without eating
as a punishment. But when it was dinner time she put the food on my plate and
coaxed me to eat and wipe my tears because I was crying. She also threatened
that I go to school thereafter without a plate. Yet again the next morning she
shoved in another kala derma
(aluminium plate) inside my khanang
(dress pocket) with a light warning remark, “if you crush it again…” Most happily, I took to my two little
light feet knowing that all is well again. But I did not know one thing for
sure and that was the fate of my new kala
derma. Poor kala dermas!
