Me....On the Threshold of Adulthood

First Experience of life outside Controlled Environment:

Upon Completion of My 10 std, I was all set to Join Diploma in Auto Engg. We faced a new Problem in the form of a new rule by the Directorate of Tech Education in Karnataka. It specified the joining age of 17 years & above, mandatory to seek Admission into Automobile engg .

Though there were vacant seats at SJ Polytechnic, this rule disqualified me from getting into the same.

Failure? Take the next best route out

This forced me to get on with Pre-University, much to my disliking. I was admitted into one of the best Pre-university college's in the City those years "The National College, Basavanagudi". The College had an amazing track record of churning out Who's Who of Many Industries with PU & Degree Rank holders Every year.

A college like this, I Thought :Was no place for a Silly boy like me." I was never ever interested Studying any thing there.

So I started off as "A reluctant student" at National College. The huge classical Classrooms were a shift to Vintage college era, from the compact comparatively smaller rooms in the high school.

The Photography club exposed me to Practical Photography, NCC took me on camps which were non existant in the school also met up with many classmates from my primary school with whom during the High School days I had lost touch.

All in all the Friends circle with whom I prefered to identify myself , made Negative impression with the Principal . I was Summoned to his chambers on many occasions & once had to take my father along too.

Learning the Art :

The Art of Bunking , Quite walk outs from class rooms, Movies, Adjusting Attendance, Proxy Attendance, Renting Big Brothers & Uncles etc , All courtesy National College.

All in all I enjoyed my stay there.

Phew!! Fianlly the wait was over:

Two years studying PUC, were more like "have to complete for the sake of completion". I refused to take up the Entrance test (As CET was known in those years) & for sure wanted to get into Diploma in some way or the other.

Me........ My Adolcent age

High Schooling

After getting a First class in 7th Std(For the second time in my entire schooling till then), I shifted from Nivedita School to Acharya Patha Shala Boys High school (as other schools had no place for my kind of scores). This School was very famous as " THE SCHOOL" to all the Notorious elements of the area. A few of our class mates had tested the back Benches for over 3 consecutive years. In short it had a superb reputation as "the degraded school" of the Era.

When I look back Twenty five years ago at my school, My opinion on the school is now entirely different. Its type cast ,was predominantly due to the School management having a Generous Philosophy of providing education to the underprivileged.

On the Contrary to the type cast, there were Excellent teachers, with commitment & trade mark teaching style. Their connectivity to students was one of the best I've ever come across till now.Till date, I still do a bit of Heart to Heart with a few of them.

Learning to be "The Best Among the Worst" :

Since I had an English Medium Middle schooling & a great teacher in my Grandfather , training me at home , I was understand & communicate with teachers in English better than Other classmates. The Command on language, improved & increased my proximity to our teachers. This Proximity launched me onto a new platform which was never mine in my Nivedita school days.

This new Privilege Empowered me to test the teachers skills & knowledge & at times I would even get into testing their patience too.

This School offered me a platform to check my Man management skills. I was made the Class's second Monitor in 8th Std & was the 3rd Monitor in the 9th & 10 stds.

Sports was there too, Played for both Foot ball & cricket teams. In cricket, We did manage to enter the Bangalore under 13 Quarter finals, but lost it there.

More than Playing, I was the one Whom our PT teacher entrusted with Cash management like bus tickets, Lunch etc for the entire team. I was more like a Team's Financial manager than the player of the team. All this.... Courtesy Our PT teacher who happened to be our "Neighbour".

In short this School taught me a lesson of my life time. It was easy Being the "Best among the worst". A literal short cut to fame.

Marks :The Poor Run .........Continues

My run on poor marks did not stop at the previous school. It still continued here too. Poor hand writing this time around was complimented a wavering mind.

When in 9th Std, a Teacher by name M.G.Shashi Rekha (MGS as we called her) ,Who had a very positive approach to every thing in life, called me aside & Suggested that I could score better if I improve my handwriting Skills. This, she said would improve my score in the 10 std Public exam. This probably was "the call" that was needed, Probably a very valid reason to improve, An Awakening to change.

I went back in time, Picked up Copy writing books practised hard to improve my skill. In all I picked all the 6 volumes of the Copy books sold & then Switched over to 4 line book & then on to two line, before finally landing on the regular single line book.

The Prankster at Large:

The Prankster inside me only grew up disproportionately to my age.

When in High school I started to accompany my father to all the technical lectures delivered by him. Thes lectures gave me some knowledge which I would classify now as HALF BAKED & theconfidence to Experiment with Vehicles in style. I felt Empowered!.

Once Madam MGS Threw me out of our class, for listening to Test Match cricket Commentary.On my way out of the school, I as usual pulled my small tool kit out from my bag, opened the spark plug of her Moped & Increased the Plug gap.

Having known that Madam MGS had a bit of Hands on DIY Skills, I did Pulled the HT coil input wire out of its location & Ensured that It would never start with out professional Attention.

From What I understood from my friends , Madam MGS pushed her Luna from the school that day & her DIY skills could not save the day. I am sure When Madam MGS does get to Read this blog, She would know what transpired the otherday.

The Seed of Success was sown by Madam MGS & a few Other Teachers changed me & they are lessons which I would never forget in my life time. Motivation to Change was out up as a necessity I came back to pick up copy writing book & started to write in proper cursive style. Over a period of time Along with my handwriting, My thinikng style improved too.

A major incident that changed a few thing inside me:

I did decide that I would enter Automobile Industry. I did want to get a Diploma Like my father & thought that I could change the face of Automobil Industry. Since the only good Institute for Diploma those years in BLR was SJP, Getting into it had only one way... Good marks. Though We were eligible for a Specific classification under the Reservation list, Father declined to be Certified the same saying " We would be Denaying a Seat to a worthy candidate".

I was put under my father's cousin a High school teacher for my 10 preparations. a Typical day in 10th would begin at 7.00 am with classes then back home at 9.30, rushing to School by 10.30 till abt 5.00pm. Get back to Tuition's at 6.00pm till 9.00pm.

The Waverly mind had to get into action, work hard, Which I had never done in my life. These sudden changes, mounted excess Pressure on me personally.With Just about a month to go before the Final Exams, The Pressure became unsustainable. I could no longer handle it. Emotional Burn outs & tempers running high all around.

One Fine day, I said enough!! after Evening Tuition's in the spurr of the moment, "I called Quits". In this decision I decided to say "good bye" to schooling. Once on the bicycle, My vague plan was to get out of Bangalore First, Then think of the next later on. I was searching for peace, No! to pressures.

The Destination was still unknown & kept peddling....At 9.00pm, while crossing the Town hall, the Temporary destination was Decided. I thought I could spend the Night at my Aunts (Mother's Elder Sister) place at RT nagar & then decide the course of action on the next day.

Communication via phones a Luxury those years. My Aunt's place did not have one. Confident of not being traced, I had dinner with my cousin Rajeev & went to sleep at around 10.00pm. A Knock at the door cane in from distant neighbour around 12.00Am & He had an Urgent message /information to be passed on. The info was about the desperate search for me. He was sort of trying to ck my whereabouts.

CAUGHT....

All this Due to some smart thinking of my Uncle Ravi (mother's youngest Brother).Aunt went onto answer the call & came back to express the panic at our place in plain simple words. The message from my home was to "stay back at RT nagar" untill picked back .Ravi came in after 3 days to pick me up.

I had lost my face to get back home. All the way on the bus, I was pondering on the answers to the questions that I would face. All In all I was mentally getting prepared to an action packed Evening. Through out the 60 min bus journey, I was figuring out ways & means to counter the arising questions.

Once at home, Every thing looked normal, Every one tlaked to me as usual except my mother. She came in front of me just dropped a few tears from her eyes & walked back. Not a word about my absurd behaviour was uttered.

This left me shell shocked. More than my Running away from home, the magnanimity & forgiveness at home was some thing which I had never experienced. My Elders were just there till then.This incident changed from "They're there" to "They're Alway's there". This was the begining when I started to respect them for what they were to me.

There was a Sudden Feeling of "Being Indebted". I had to return this favour back to them in some way or the other. The only route which I felt lay ahead of me was to Study hard & get a good score, may be some thing more than what was expected of me.

With the exams only 25 days away, I put in lot of effort to the preparation. Finally, When the Reasults were announced, & I scored a first class, Every one was happy & proud that I finally had achived some thing. This was the Third time I had scored a First class in my life time. The Icing on the cake was being the Class topper in Mathematics with a Score of 91/100.

The learning I had was " Forgiving the Crime" would be the biggest Punishment for for those who are sensible.

Finally me...My Childhood

Born on 21st Sept 1968 as the only child of my parents, I had my share of larger good & very few bad things/ Experiences in life.

I grew up in the most notorious of neighbourhoods in Bangalore. Even today, the notoriety of the area is so high that Auto's still hesitate to come in after 9.00pm.

Have had friends walked into every possible way of life, i.e from the Most Notorious Anti Social Element in the area to the a current day Circle inspector of police; From a Senior management professional to the Security guard. Growing with them all was fun & I've enjoyed every bit of it.

The Primary school Student:

My Nursery on wards till high schooling was done at Nivedita School at Gavipuram. I was a Famous kid for two reasons (not sure was it right or wrong)

1. Family Background
   
2. Hopeless student.

My hall mark of school days was my Awful handwriting . This was the main reason why i lost marks as my communication was very very confusing.This Prompted teachers to push me on to the back benches.Typical Back benches were places previous years leftovers hovered around.

On innumerable occasions My parents were summoned to get fired on my behalf. All these failed to ignite the fire inside my belly .

My teachers usually complained to my parents on

• my dreaming & not being attentive in the class
• Bad handwriting

not being reactive in the class

poor scores in test or Exams.

Fortunately, I scraped through to the next classes with out being struck even for a year & was a teachers nightmare due to my poor Edu Skills.

One Incident which is still fresh in my mind is when the PT/ Drill Teacher Mr.Sridhar hit me on the back with a Base drum stick causing a blood clot. It was the one period before the last one. The pain was unbearable & the shock from this hit was so severe that I could not even cry. When I reached home & showed it to my mother & Grand father, The later sprung into action by driving us back to the school & firing the Head Mistress for the wrong doing of the PT/Drill teacher.I remember that he even went to the extent that threatened the School authorities ( who were on the verge of going back home after school) of Legal consequences.

The Very first reaction to this threat was, the PT master coming home & apologised to my grand father for the wrong action & later on pretended to be very friendly with me.

The Street Plays:

I enjoyed on the streets along with a few chaddi Pals playing cricket, We Played all sorts of games from Kabbadi to Koko, Cricket to gang Chatter boxes . On a specific day, a few of my Chaddi Pals were locked up inside Hanumantha nagar Police station for playing on the streets. This was at the instance of a neighbour who had complained to the police that we were a nuisance in our neighbourhood.

We have lost the count on the number of window panes we broke, the number of passerby who were hit by the ball from our cricket bats.

Learning to be proud of Dirty work

Me Sitting with my Cousin Shankar on Father's Sherpa

Me on Bicycle looking at our Renault

Our home had a small shop (Which still Exists). This used to be the Sunday Garage of my father. I usually used to be there when he worked either on our car or friend/Relatives vehicle. I remember father working on BSA Motorcycles, Bullets, Jawas, A wide array of cars.

At times, I too would be allowed to work along with him as his part time unreliable helper . This used to be the motivational reward for no being harmful or dangerous with any ones gadget/equipment during the week. I relished & still cherish these moments.

Since Grand father loved & Owned only Imported cars ( their technology was better than the Indian counter parts), Spare parts for these were not easily available. This usually prompted father to rekindle his love for old parts from Gujuri (the scrap markets) scouting & sourcing old parts for our cars or others vehicles. Our roof top was the store to many such parts & we in fact had a couple of Spare Engines (for the Renault we owned), large range of Suspension & steering parts.

Whenever there were restrictions to play on the street, I used to steal a few tools from under grandfathers cot & experiment on these recycle able parts on the roof top. At times few parts would have been rendered useless too.

One incident Which I remember till date was when I used a Screw driver to punch a hole into the Crankcase of the spare engine of the Renault & the engine oil gushed out of the crankcase. Not knowing what to do about it, I was bit panicky. Grand father noticed that I was too quite for too long came up on the roof & was amazed at what he saw . He saw may desperate juvenile effort to stop the oil ooze out, laughed at me & asked to accompany my father to the welder to get the case repaired.

When Father finally decided to quit his neat clean life style to a dirty one & started his workshop, most of his rarely used tools used to be in a wooden crate under Grandfather's cot. This even with out saying, would be used in my play. I did play with them at times it would be dangerous too to quote an incident I drilled a hole on my left toe nail yelled for help later on . The partial deformation of the toe nail is still there.

There were many occasions when I would experiment & get struck with it It needed my father to bail me out of the situation. Slowly but steadily Cuts & bruises on fingers, Burnt hands & legs slowly became my hall mark.

I still remember the occassional creep under the chassis of both Renault & Oldsmobile (The Kissing car of Lage Raho Munna Bhai) . Oldsmobile was a favorite among my friends during hide & seek or cricket (when we had non one to keep the wickets). The reason why Oldsmobile was famous was, it housed a Massive, large & Strong Boot which could be unlocked ground with a hacksaw blade which we kept handy at my Friend Murali's place.

All a matter of habbit & habbits die hard:

I also was famous for carrying a few tools like Screw driver, Cutting pliers & nose pliers handily some where with me.This provided me with freedom to dismantle any thing that I found interesting. I had to wait till my father came back to guide me to put things back into their normal state. Most easy targets would be anybodies Radio, Table fan, LP record player & bicycles at times even Scooters or motorcycles.

They say habits die hard. This is very true in my case. I still carry a Forty eight function Swiss army knife handy, with me always. Relatives & friends who take notice of this knife set, go back in time, recollecting the nostalgic incidents we were involved in & then we all burst into a loud laughter.

The most unforgettable Incident in my childhood:

The Most important incident of my younger days is the Tear up of the Chamber's Twentieth century Dictionary. I asked for an Ice cream at MTR, I was not bought that for health reasons, (which I did not understand). Came home & put up a fit .When this evoked cold response, I pulled my Grandfathers Dictionary & tore a few pages. Father & grand father just pulled me aside & wrote a note in the same. This is just the tip of the iceberg of my style in my childhood.

In short When I sit back & reflect upon my Child hood, I think I've got every thing I wanted from it. In short I've been blessed with a very good childhood & I thank my stars & God for the same.