Run

We all gathered in the tin shed. Miss Jenny stood on a small stool , in the centre of the small group. 

She was short , and forceful . Then she pronounced ,” Today all will take five rounds “. We all held our breaths . When she made pronouncements like that , you do not contest , you do not protest, you do not even squeak , you just run . Run for your life . 

Then she clapped her hands , an environment friendly gunshot , and we shot out of the shed , higgledy -piggledy , in a jumble , stumbling against each other . 

Miss Jenny was known to sneak up behind stragglers holding their friends’ arms for support , behind bubble gum chewing enthusiasts , and open -mouthed chronic “panters” turning purple blue while panting . Hands would be quickly disengaged , gum spat into grass, and mouths closed . 

I was one of the open -mouthed idiots , who suffered years of humiliating knuckle taps on the chin , before I remembered to not mouth breathe while running . Miss Jenny believed that shutting the mouth conserved energy , and you could run longer . It actually worked . I ran and ran . It was one of the most glorious periods of my entire existence . I have never run with such gusto, and a simple desire to please , as I ran to please Miss Jenny .

Village Ramlila

Every year , Vangesh was chosen to play the lead female roles .

Why ? Vangesh was as unfeminine , as they come . He was taller and more muscular than most of the cast .

 He was heftier than the guy who played Ravana, and he had trouble kidnapping Sita , played by Vangesh. She swatted Ravana on the hand , onstage ,last year .She also  leaned on Lakshamana , drunkenly , when he chided her . Last to last year , she hooked her hands playfully , into Ravana's Dhoti , and threatened to rip it apart. Then She coquettishly marched ahead of him , hip-swinging , braid flying and batted her eyelids at him "You coming?" Ravana meekly followed. The crowd hooted in glee.

When Hanuman came to the vatika to "rescue " Sita , he was to throw some thermocol mangoes down at the ground . This enraged Sita to no end , and she proceeded to throw her raw , cowhide , peasants' shoes at him . One of the formidable footwears hit the poor guy squarely in the chest . That mere act of sacrilege made news for quite some time .

Vangesh , with his drunken buffoonery , sold more seats than a staid and composed , demure Sita ever would . Everyone knew the story . Vangesh just notched the fun quotient up.

So , this year , Mahabharata , was being staged . As  a change . Vangesh was Draupadi, of course .

When the time came , Vangesh was sozzled . He preferred payment in the form of toddy bottles , which he consumed , in advance , before the play.

Draupadi was to be dragged by her hair to the court . The artificial braid pulled at Vangesh's own , short , oily locks . Irked, he raised his bangled , hairy arms and pulled the offending braid off. The crowd roared, and the producer quaked behind some curtains.

This year , some ladies from "good families" had bought the front tickets . the show had better be not "too rowdy".

With Dushashana brandishing the headless braid in his hand , like a limp lance, and his scalp still itching , Vangesh picked up a pitcher of water , kept next to Dhritarashtra , after having been sprayed on the mud floor to settle the dust down ( it also served the dual purpose of waking up extra actors who nodded  off , mid play)and emptied the contents on his head , in one swift move.

This served three purposes .

One , it silenced the crowd , who didn't know what would follow, next .

Two, it sobered up Vangesh.

Three , it wet all the various layers of sarees that Vangesh wore , rendering them dark and indistinguishable from each other .

Dushashana was supposed to slow down , after pulling the second saree , which was red , and Vangesh was supposed to start praying for Lord Krishna , who would arrive in a hand cranked raft lowered from the ceiling , awash with twinkling lights.

In the absence of colour -coded sarees , Dushashana pulled with all his might , till Draupadi stood shivering wet , in  short oily locks , pink makeup streaming down her stubbly chin , in "her" striped blue and black "chaddi".

The crowd roared . The ladies covered their mouth .Some one threw a footwear onstage . In one moment of absolute clarity , Vangesh knew , the play was seconds away from a free-for-all .

So , he folded his hands , and broke into a prayer . Not the prayer rehearsed, but a different one . One that is recited every evening , in every hindu household.

"Twameva mata cha pita twameva "("You are our mother , and you are our father"), rang Vangesh's shaky baritone , and people put their footwear down . The producer peeked through his fingers.

"Twameva bandhu sakhaa twameva "(You are my friend and my confidante), The women folk in the first row, got up , folded hands , covered their heads and joined Vangesh.

"Twameva vidya dravinam twameva "(You are the wealth , and our wisdom ), The stage guys chose this auspicious moment to lower Krishna down , complete with blinking lights. More people joined in the chant.

"Twameva sarva mam ,mam  deva deva "( You are my everything , O Lord) ,The crowd finished the prayer with a flourish. Thousands chanting simultaneously . Vangesh bowed his head , and the hundreds of spectators bowed their heads , goose-fleshed , and overwhelmed.

It was a spectacular ending to a farce .