My childhood

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My maternal grandfather, Naik, was Deputy collector at Vidisha, near Bhopal. Being the first, I was born there in Vidisha. I don’t know any further details… when we came to Indore. But I consider Indore as my birthplace.

 Jailroad in Indore was not as crowded as it's now. Marathi was the official language, since it was a Holkar state. Indore had a ‘Marathi’ culture then. Many brahmin marathi families live here. Marathas were from Raje (Royal) family. Many brahmin marathi speaking families had good connection with each other. We used to have regular festivals like Ganpathi, Shravani, Diwali, Holi in a traditional way.

 

Holi was celebrated with traditional Rangoli at the front door after sprinkling water. Sugarcane bamboos were arranged along with few dry wood sticks from the neighbours, cow dunk cakes were arranged and laid. Guruji was invited to perform traditional pooja of ‘Holikadevi’ and then the fire was lit. No ruckus or noise… no danga… only quiet Pooja. Every house hold had their own Holika-dahan. The colours of Holi next day was a descent application of gulal and sweets distributions. Dassera ‘seema-ullhanghan’ Diwali, Ram-navami… all festivals were celebrated with zest with bhajan keertan and some entertainment programs. Ganpati utsav was a 10days celebration.

 

There was a small ‘Mini’ theatre, Sonar wada, next to our house at Jailroad. It used to have regular shows of drama and music. These artists people, when sick, used to visit my Uncle, he was very fond of music. We used to have one such one musical program in our house during Ganpati festival. We had Pandit Deenanath Mangeshkar’s program too few times in our house. My uncle knew him well. Mageshkars were in Indore those days. I must have been very small, but I do remember these musical programs in our house.

 

We used to invite our friends for Rangpanchami to play with colours. We used to make colours from flowers and petals and soak in warm water. We needed to take out clothes before  playing with this colourful water, after which we had bath and wore same clothes, all were served good food with sweets in abundance. Every one had fewer sets of clothes 2-3, so they had to kept properly in order to use for one year. Books were all ‘hand me downs’ from seniors… no notebooks… only pencil and black slate… disposable. Education in school was cheap.

 

My primary education from 1st to 4th standard was in local Primary school. Being in a large joint family we were 8-10 kids in school. There were no special birthday celebrations or special favoritism for anyone. Many a times even parents didn’t know which class their own ward is. So when my father was asked by my school head master about my birth date… he replied, “Don’t know”. Head master eventually put my birth date a s 1st September 1923… my friend who too was born on the same day was 23rd September 1923. I had no privilege being a school teacher’s son, in fact I was threatened by all, that they will complain about me to him.

 

There was no change in the curriculum and books in the school, hence every year same books were handed down to next child in the family. Those books used to last for 10 years eventually given to some poor students.

 

I was growing, had my ‘Munj (thread ceremony)’. But my mother’s irritable nature remained constant. We never could predict, when she will throw tantrums. Me and my younger siblings grew up in an awkward situation. My youngest sister was just 3-4 years old then. She would get scared and cry… all her 5-6 elder brothers would then console her. All cousins grew up together and there was tremendous love and affection for each other. There was no ill feelings in anyone’s mind.

 

My father had a low paying govt service, my mother had problems. I grew up in a compromised situation, however my aaji and atya more than made up for the void of them. I realised that only I can change the situation for me and my younger siblings. I decided to study hard… achieve merits in exams and take care of my siblings… make them independent & stand on their feet… have peace and prosperity in my family. My father was too simple and timid, and it was not possible for him to help us. He himself had been dependent on his kaka… had no ambitions… no enjoyments… had no peace in house due to my problematic mother. Somehow my father spent his life as a despondent.


-RP Bhoraskar

 

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