"रूपं देही जयं देही यशो देही द्विषो जहि"

"रूपं देही जयं देही यशो देही द्विषो जहि" - श्री दुर्गासप्तशती

मैं देवी से यह प्रार्थना करता हूँ और आशीर्वाद मागता हूँ की हे देवी! हम रूपवान हो, विजयी हो, यशश्वी हो तथा हमारे द्वेषों अर्थात काम - क्रोध आदि का नाश हो.

Blow Pipe

In my final year of school, I had to come to study in 1968 to Bombay (Now Mumbai) since my father had been transferred at the Indira Dock. It was easy for us to get admission, since we were already students of Central School (now Kendriya Vidyalaya), Seminary Hills, Nagpur.

We for a short while stayed at Ghatkopar, before shifting to Bandra Bandstand in the Government’s quater. All three of us – two brothers & one sister used to travel by local up to Kanjur Marg station from Ghatkopar and would climb up the Powai Hill to the Kendriya Vidyalaya. Sometimes, for a change, we would get down at Vikhroli station and take a BEST bus up to the school. This was more or less a routine for me for one full academic year; thereafter I had joined engineering college at Jaipur, and other two of my siblings continued for one and two years each respectively .

Our class (11A) room was at the extreme end of the corridor on the right side. We had a make shift teacher’s rest room at the extreme dead end of the corridor between the two class rooms. Our class teacher, a very handsome lady, as a Kashmiri should look like, was to occupy that room along with other few lady teachers. Madam Lahori had a typical accent and would call “sh” as “s”. She could never pronounce my name correctly as “Pushkar” but “Puskar”, but it used to sound very sweet. Whenever not in a good mood or annoyed due to our mischief’s, she would shout by name (she could recognize the voice of each one of us) sitting from her room and make us shiver.

Many of the names of my friends and classmates have faded from my memory; it is almost around forty years now, a few names I recollect are, Swaroop, Ray/Rai, Kamla, Patwardhan…. I hope one day, this nostalgic event posted on this net blog unit us. We remember each other and get connected/ networked though this modern media of internet.

One of the reasons for commotion in our class was due to a shot from a blow pipe from the other classroom diagonally opposite to ours. These shots would come from Ramesh’s blowpipe. He was my younger sister’s classmate of 10 A. He was also very studious and always stood first among his class. He would keep few grains of pulse in his mouth, look for a target in our class; most venerable would be the one who would be listening very attentively to the teacher. The shot used to hurt; every one of our classmates had been hit by his stray shots. Anyone of us, who would get hurt, would not hesitate to take a revenge in between the two lecture breaks, if got the chance, or otherwise during the lunch break. The ensuing commotion would not be taken lightly by the Madam Lahori and a stern warning would be given to both the party. I hope Ramesh would give a similar blow pipe hit to the smart guys from the developed countries during the forthcoming meet on climate change at Copenhagen.

P R Chandna