Reminiscing The Rusty Picnic Days

We were probably still pondering about our Arithmetic lessons, anticipating the never-ending toughness amongst us, that also had high possibilities of converting and gradually taking the form of ‘terror’. Things intensified, even more, when you had to do assignments on the same and you still had no inkling as to how things added up, most prominent among them being the problems on calculating the age of the father and son. To be blunt and brutally honest, more often than not, my solutions would result in the son’s age being more than that of his father. Well, by now you must have definitely guessed about my expertise on Arithmetic, I’d rather prefer saying Mathematics a whole… The gigantic paradox and perhaps the tragedy of life is that these things tend to hit harder when you are zeroed in as the ‘ugly duckling’, and probably even start cursing your fate and question your genetics…

These monologues somehow tend to reach the ears of the mother, and how much ever you strive, you can hardly save yourself from sneers like, “Oh! How did you end up being so very weak in Mathematics, especially when you belong to this family?” or sometimes even as blunt as “Why don’t you follow the footsteps of your brother? He has always topped, and Maths has always been his favourite subject…” The sneers continued, and very uncannily bore an inverse proportion to my grades in Maths, which diminished day by day…

Things weren’t any different in my friends’ place, one of them even was the younger brother of the class topper, so his tragedy doesn’t even compare to mine. Whenver we had some spare time post classes, we’d circle around each other and tried contemplating life, some even said that life itself is an illusion and that these grades don’t really matter in the long run, yet ICSE sadly didn’t feel the same way. Amid such deepened pandemonium, one of the most prudent ones suggested, “Oye, let’s arrange for a picnic…” A picnic like all of a sudden, amid boards, amid all the ever-increasing pressure? Where would we find a place, let alone how do we even manage to sneak out of the house? 

As always, this one confidant had an impeccable solution, where she suggested that we’d have an indoor picnic during our lunch time, and would be managing with all home eateries, or probably depending upon our mothers’ mood, we might see if we could ask her to cook some Puris and Dum Aloo. The heart leaped out with great joy as soon as I heard this, and within nanoseconds we got volunteers for Chips, Ice Cream, and Cold Drinks, these were out of some minor savings from last Diwali. Fortunately for me, mum was elated for some reason and readily agreed to make Puris and Dum Aloo. 

The next day we sat in rapt attention during the Arithmetic class, lest we’d for asked to do a detailed assignment, that might lead to spoiling our mood, and the picnic eventually. So, we couldn’t take chances. Puris, Dum Aloo, Salad, Cold Drinks, Chips, Ice cream and Sweets. Truth to be, the menu was so tight it couldn’t be completed in half an hour’s time, yet we managed somehow, I guess I heard my confidant munching onto some potato fries during classes after break… 

There it was. Our very first maiden edition of the picnic, amid a lot of happiness, ecstasy, joy and laughter, sans selfies and hashtags!

As I sit here on a rainy afternoon revisiting an old chapter of my life from the good old days, I realise that it’s not rusty at all, rather much like honey.