‘Mithun you didn’t have your milk’ his mother screaming from
the balcony as he scooted out of the house. ‘I hate white milk’ screamed back
Mithun ‘I want chocolate’. It was assembly time 9 minutes away from 8:21 AM
just when Mithun reaches school. It was time to stand in the line and proceed
in single file from 6 C and congregate at the “assembly”. The usual morning
ritual where students in white and navy blue start from the various classes and
very much in a reluctant ant like way enter the assembly and stand in their
positions designated class wise. It was an embarrassing for the guys in front
and quite a reason for the guys at the back to be cheaply happy- height order
is the rule of the moment. However by the time you are in 6th
standard you are pretty much inured to this nonsense. Typically the assembly
begins with the prayer, a solemn silence, pledge with guys going mute when it
come to “All Indians are my brothers and sisters …” After that some inane
thought for the day repeated twice, news, gathered in a hurry by the designated
reader from the morning newspaper typically from the school library to save the
hurry at home. Then either Vada, the PT master, would “You bloody Buggers…”
opens his vituperative for the morning or some announcement by some descent
teacher about some sports/cultural. Then the commander shouts attention to call
for the national anthem to be played. Our commander today was the Mithun who
had his first opportunity in the secondary section. Quite a big jump
considering 6th to be the lowest rung in the secondary strata of 6th
to 10th standard. He didn’t lose this opportunity bellowing the
shrillest squeal to command the school prayer.
Today Vada was in good mood and he came to the mike smiling
infecting the same smile in everybody except Mithun who had to command a
contrived serious demeanor. The announcement was again a disappointment some Cross-Country
run sponsored by Nutramul which will be 3 kilometers from the campus out gate
to the school. Something was wrong today Vada was open to receive questions and
that to from the students. The usual rest of the program was duly over and the
periods began. Mithun was still in the assembly of the morning. Not going over
again and again over his performance as a commander but Vada’s announcement-
the Cross-Country run. He was imagining the 92’ Barcelona
games with all the Marathon runners running
through streets lined with ambulances, volunteers serving waters. “It is
Nutramul Cross-Country run, they must be serving Nutramul on the way” wondered
Mithun and he was not alone. Vada was feeling very special today as his PT room
now had students lined up outside to ask doubts about the run.
‘Thakuma, Ma I am going to participate in the Nutramul Cross-Country
run. They are going to serve Nutramul along the way’
Thakuma didn’t understand a word but she was smiling and
even encouraging, happy seeing Mithun upto something exciting. His mother on the
other hand
‘What Cross-Country? You are going to run three kilometers?
Are you MAD?’
‘But they are going to serve Nutramul along the way’
And then the cold war ensued with mother and son holding
ground and Thakuma still wearing that wise smile. Ultimately Thakuma reasoned
her belligerent daughter in-law. Mithun’s mother was nervous and insecure because
of her husband who had gone abroad. The rapprochement was brokered by the guile
of Thakuma’s negotiating skills and it was a win-win, well nobody really
expressed any material ground to begin with. It was more of a psychological
give and take that our elders know so deftly about. The whole evening Mithun
went over the whole program of Ambulances on either side of the way with volunteers
carrying Nutramul for the runners- those uplifting the value of sporting spirit
spreading love, camaraderie and good will with Mithun waving his hands on
either side of the roads lined with spectators who are cheering and waving
back. Its Olympic spirit all the way faster, higher and stronger. ‘Humko Tan Ki
Shakti Do…no wait that is bournvita’, Mithun correcting himself.
Finally the day came, Thakuma, wearing a fresh beautifully
angelic white sari and Mithun’s skeptical mother in Garden chiffon with Mithun
walking in front as if burdened by his guardians for their slow walking speed. ‘Walk
fast; I need to be ahead in the starting line up’. Finally they reach the start
with Thakuma and Mithun’s mother backing off into a corner to a vantage point
to see Mithun run. ‘Mithun. All the best’. Finally the motherly love got the
better of her with Mithun carelessly disregarding it ‘Alright, alright see you
at the finish line’ and off he went.
The start was anything Barcelona
like, it was pell-mell, helter-skelter and all the slow build up, pacing
oneself and sustaining a campaign- nonsensical. The run began and Mithun
already huffing, puffing, panting, breaking a sweat with 2.9 KM to go. Every
pore of his body screamed. Soon there were many who couldn’t take it and
started walking. ‘What nonsense that’s a foul’ wondered Mithun and ‘Where are
the ambulances? The volunteers?’ and his heart sank ‘Where is the Nutramul? No
Nutramul? No Nutramul’. They were just running through the jungle of the
campus. ‘That Bastard Vada must be having a mighty laugh’ grumbled Mithun and
all the physical toll couldn’t make him escape the fact- he was duped. With a
kilometer gone by he didn’t feel so bad. Finally he caught up with Rajesh,
though not in his usual circle of friends but looking at him walk with
shoulders all down he was feeling bad for him not that he is in anyway better
in being equally duped. Rajesh was ignoring him in the beginning but his effort
to move away from Mithun cost him his stamina. He looked at Rajesh and there
was for the first time some semblance of maturity. ‘Come on lets run together’
suggested Rajesh and Mithun agreed. By now they had crossed the half way mark
and quite surprisingly both Mithun and Rajesh settled into a rhythm. This eased
things though they were in no way capable of enjoying running through the
forest of the campus.
All notion of time was lost by now and there was heavy
feeling that the race might already be over. Nonetheless the duo resolved to
finish what they set out to do and they finally were closing on the final
kilometer, with the Gajendra circle to go around and entering the back gate to
the football ground. Looking at the ground now however, the alliance suffered a
blow and both wanted to out do the other but there bodies would have none of
it. They had to sustain through the enforced peace. Finally they entered the
dusty football field with mud now having a ball over the white canvas shoes.
The goal post and either one forgot who came before whom. The prize
distribution had already begun.
The duos morally finished. They now zombie to the basketball
field where serpentine queues menacingly slithered towards a single counter
serving a cup of ‘Hey Rajesh Nutramul Da come’ Mithun suddenly finding a burst
of energy from nowhere. ‘No Da I have had enough not interested you go’ and of
Mithun went into the shoving and pushing which was by now turning into a riot.
Mithun’s mother and Thakuma were totally at loss looking at their precious
struggling through the suffocating queue and salvaging a cup of a chocolaty
drink. Mithun's new found strength finally secured what he came for, his prize,
Nutramul. ‘Ma this is a nonsense drink’ on the first sip, ‘there is no sugar,
no milk also’ on the second sip, there were no more sips as he threw the cup
just missing one of the seniors. Mithun had enough and the senior instinctively
backing out. Mithun had no energy left to cry.
In the comfort of his home with the usual day to begin anew -
Mithun’s mother mixing Bournvita in Mithun’s milk, his favorite, Thakuma,
arranging his books into the school bag, just so Mithun would be back from his
bath, gulp down the milk and chomp down his rotis. It was a busy morning for
him to catch his morning assembly to command the prayer.
Thakuma - Grand Mother (Father's side) in Bengali
Ma - Mother
Humko Tan Ki Shakti do- Advertisement Jingle of a popular milk powder brand
Nutramul, Bournvita- Chocalate Milk powder brands
Da- Tamil colloquial word for addressing a male friend
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