Letters from a daughter to her father: Week 1

19 June 2009

One week up!

On this auspicious occasion of concluding the first week of Phase II training in the Academy, let me have the privilege of publishing the first in a weekly series on “Letters from a daughter to her Father”.

P.S- Don’t ask me how I got these letters!

Dear Papa,

I reached Mussoorie comfortably and my first week went off very soundly and sleepily. First day was basically looting and I lost Rs.1205/- in the first round. Very coarse briefs were supplied thereafter and this evoked different languages from most our friends here. These languages were tested and certified in a place called Sampoornanad. Historians tell me that once upon a time, there were persons by this name! How horrible…

Everyday morning all students do frog jump and other rituals to please the mountain Gods. This continues. As you know, the local custom is not to bathe for days. The school is helping us to adjust to this local tradition. Now a new local custom of wearing unwashed clothes is also fast catching up. The Laundromats have also been shut to facilitate this.

2^nd standard class is not really different from 1^st standard except that we can now slowly understand what is going on around us. Maybe it is a stage in the development of the brain. Lessons are not very difficult and this year I may pass without tuition. Many of my friends have ditched their old friends in 1^st standard and have become chums with new. Angry old friends said that it was for sitting on a better bench. I am convinced that certain benches are indeed uncomfortable, unless one has been brought up sitting on those very benches. For example, my bench is the made of the old coconut tree that stood in out backyard- I find it wonderful to sit on. My bench-mate Ajit is developing a taste for coconut of late. Govind tells me that his bench is full of thorns, while Suhas says his is so comfortable that he feels like a King. I recall that Karl Marx rightly said that the beauty of a bench lies in the tough posterior of the beholder. We should ask Sanket as well, but he was in mourning.

One of these days here, I met a long haired nice uncle who reminded me of my Great grand Uncle who used to tell me happy-ending stories. This uncle was sooooo nice! I bet he said many goody goody things; I was meditating and hence could not hear much. But it must have been good. As you know, my concentration during meditation is immense.

My meditation has become even stronger after a new meditation ritual has been started in the school. After a heavy breakfast we are supposed to sit erect in the garden and meditate for half an hour. We usually count the travelling ants if meditation doesn't happen fast. Music is also played so as to mask sounds which are locally referred to as snores. One uncle sits throughout staring at us. He knows only 4 sentences and 2 verses which he repeats everyday with great precision. But by his looks and expression, he seems contented with whatever he knows. Boy, what calmness…what composure….I’m almost tempted to place a cracker under his seat. No papa, I won’t do that.

Papa, that didi whose daddy comes and gives us a speech whenever he visits her, has finally passed out of the school. Our prayers have been answered, or else we would have heard that uncle in 3^rd standard also. Papa, you are always right, God is great.

Btw, a new teacher from Patna came the other day to teach Aitty Vaitty. He looked dashing and Anindita didi asked him for an autograph. He instead gave a photograph and took the next train to Patna. I don’t know why. We were then told to make friends with him; but then I remembered what Mummy had said- never talk to strangers. I hope I did the right thing. Nila didi has said that I did the right thing. A dashing young lady teacher with American accent also came to take class and my close friend Mohanraj took a special liking for her, but she just shook his hands and said bye. None of us could meditate in this class as our eyes were popping out.

And finally Papa, Madan, the boy with the bag who was on Maunvrat finally spoke today. Indeed we humans are nothing before technology. I’ll mail you next week, Papa. Hope I’m okay till then.

Yours lovingly,

Bitiya rani