The landmarks …

Although the dictionary meaning of “landmark” is defined as, ” an object…such as a stone or tree that marks the boundary of land.” Or ” an event or development that marks a turning point or a stage.” When we use the term “landmark”, we often apply it in that context.  For example, if an stranger is to trace out an address in a newly raised colony. For the help, he might be suggested some ‘post office’ or ‘hospital’ as a landmark to locate the colony. In the known history of mankind, there are so many events got recorded as watershed, so they may be counted as turning point and clearly marked as “landmark.”

Have we ever given a thought on the point that in our personal life, we too happen to encounter with some “landmarks.” Such ‘landmarks’,  at the time of their occurrence seem “hackneyed.” But, with the lapse of time, when man reaches his middle age. The same “hackneyed” moments, we recall as “landmark.” After reaching a sustainable bend of life, when we take ourselves as “settled in life.”  There, a kind of stagnancy we begin to experience in our life. In that state of mind, every person begins to retrospect his past life.

                                    Desire to live in past 

In that retrospection, he eagerly recounts his bygone days of childhood, teen age and nascent adulthood and so many other tings. An all time proverb, rightly describe this situation, ” past always seems golden to us and we recall it with anguish.”  All we, after crossing a bend of life, voluntarily or involuntarily travel down the memory lane. In this journey our parting childhood friends, old village or muhalla, classmates , schools etc often flash in our memory as per our imagination.  Everything, in such an animated manner, a twinge we feel inside the heart, ” alas ! once only once! I could be able to witness or encounter that lapsed time.”

A grave ambition, we foster to visit those departed places of past life.  Some school or college campus of youth time, those play grounds etc. Astonishingly, in our subconscious state of mind, even we visit those places in our fancy.

If you are fortunate enough and manage to visit your first ever primary school of your infancy. The place, where you chanced to learn first ever alphabet of education. You can presume yourself super lucky, if you find that school still in its original shape. It’s miraculous that in your nascent childhood you happened to live in some remote rural area and no such remarkable change you witnesses there after so many years. On reaching there, you find almost everything extant, in accord with the images conjured in your mind, of childhood memories.

                                          The luck favored but ? 

I in myself chanced to visit my first ever basic primary school, after a lapse of long forty years of time. The school, I left at the age of four or five years of infancy, but that ever remained alive in my memories. I know you won’t believe, when I was a student of that school, that located in the foothill village of my Himalayan province. It was an old fashioned small tenement, consisted of three to four rooms added with a verandah and a kitchen for the headmaster. A stone walled construction, roofed with corrugated zinc tinted tin sheets.

When I reached over there, I found no any worth noticed major change. Might be, in between this period of time, this tenement were put to whitewash certainly. But, the same pale colored whitewash, as we often find in out Indian government run primary schools. The white wash which emits a dull impression, as if, no whitewash been applied for.When I occasioned to reach there, the sun set was about to approach. The one change, I noticed was that the school was now properly fenced with a strong wall. Along with, a main gate was erected that was unbarred.

In vicinity of school some residential construction were raised in scattered manner. That had no adverse effect on the original scenario of the school. In sooth, the school was as same as it was in my childhood. It stood mutely; in obmutescence, as if, waiting for little students to come in and create some din. The little mango tree of that time, now turned up into a huge tree. Out side, in the corner of the compound, still, that big rotund cemented drinking water tank of old time stood in working condition. I too stood there “speechless.”

In fact, this silence had an emotional drive, that, gave me the pleasure of finding back some “treasure,” lost long ago. I set there on the step of verandah, still feeling myself as an infant. Fraught with the sense of anxiously waiting for my childhood class fellows. Those little friends of past, I in my fancy, expect to appear in person. Though in fact, I was not able to recall the name or face of any one of them. Every thing blurred before eyes. The morning prayer of the school in a chorus, began to reel before my eyes. With ostensible chanting rhythm, I found myself as a little child, stood there in a row with folded hands chanting the prayer.

                                Image Shattered 

The chirping utterances of the village urchins, forced me back to my senses. Those were the little boys, from the same village.  Gathering there, for evening frolics with cricket bat and ball. I recalled my old time, we used to play traditional old games. I threw a glance over my school with my hearts content. I promised silently to pay the next visit shortly, and with that vow I retreated.

It may sound strange to you, of my taking a vow to a tenement to visit again…but it happens Sir! Emotions drive you to do that! But, for next coming few years, I could not manage to visit the school site. Eventually, when I happened to be there next time, everything was drastically changed. Now there stood a large double story reinforced cemented building, in place of old tenement. The school, too, had been upgraded to Junior High School level. It seemed to me, as if I was witnessing some strange fellow. I came back with heavy steps, with a feeling of having lost some precious item, Penned by– Vinay Pharasi…..