One fine morning , I set out on an adventure .
No , I didn't climb mountains , or was stranded in an island full of caves , which were conveniently full of canned food .
Neither did I save the world .
The adventure was more like a wild-goose -chase .
On a barmy morning , I set out to look for a school . A school where an important exam was to be held . It had a common ring to it , and every third bus was emblazoned with its name . For reference sake , we shall call it "The tender Soul's School". It was a chain of schools , but at this point in time , I didn't know that .
Timmy , the driver , poked his head out at the first intersection of the Model Town , and espied a young couple . The girl had a black and white dupatta around her face and was incredibly thin . The boy was bearded , rotund , looked at us puzzled . Tapped the side of his head , as if looking into its sparse reserves , and hummed ominously . The lady , astride a purring scooter , vroomed into view .
"Bhaiya ! ' She commanded Timmy . "Follow me ! I know the exact place ".
We started , like lost sheep , and the lady in scooty braked hard . Screech , Screech. She braked , we braked . "Maa nu das deyin mein ghar challin haan ." (Tell Mom I have started for home ). She screamed at Mr. Beard . He nodded absently , still figuring out the latitude and longitude of "Tender Souls " . "Paaji ... "He began a fresh set of instructions for Timmy , and was promptly interrupted . Lady Diana , raised her barely visible eyebrows , yanked his arm , and him into present tense " Main ki kya ..." (what did I tell you ?)
"Aaho , aaho " We were not the only meek sheep here. "Mein phone kardaan ." (I will just call )
The lady took off , zigzagging the traffic with professional ease . She stayed a comfortable 20 feet ahead of us , regardless of the state of intervening vehicles . Thelas , stray dogs , SUVs, she ducked them all , and sailed past , her gossamer thin dupatta waving , and her thin frame hardly breaking into a sweat . It was a feast for the eyes . Now I know what ringside spectators at formula 1 races feel like.
The worrisome fact was , we had left Model Town behind . Long ago . And the admit card clearly mentioned Model Town . Well, I thought , maybe this was some other Model Town , in the same city , like M.G.Road in Mumbai , of which there are several , I am told.
The bungalows were replaced with humbler abodes of living . Karyana shops scaled down . The vast fields of ripe golden wheat , awaiting harvest , replaced choc-a-bloc houses and shops . The air grew thinner , and cleaner . The road divider disappeared . We had crossed the town limits and came upon the famous water park , called" Wonderland ". I remember being told it was 25 kms from city centre . We had literally , gone off on a limb here.
Suddenly , we saw the girl come to a halt at an intersection . She waved us on , straight ahead , "maybe a kilometre or two " .
Another enquiry had to be made at a cycle repair shop , who asked us to take the first right and then second left.
A large campus of sorts loomed ahead . Sweeping driveway . Gateposts , watchmen , manicured hedges bordering the property , and a massive board proclaiming "Tender Souls' Group of Institutions " . We felt as if in our quest for a bit of gold , we had hit the mother lode .
First entry , for any enquiry , had to be made in a register at the gate . Name , purpose of visit , time of entry .
Second entry at the receptionist's table . A sleepy lady , bored to death , just mechanically pushed the fat register in my direction . Name , phone number , If I was a parent (here I lied and wrote that I was one , as every visitor ahead of me was , and not being one would put me on the spotlight , rather painfully), what business(official), with whom (principal ) , I gawped at my own cheek and pushed it back . She just motioned me up an impressive flight of stairs , painted red , and lined with leafy pots .
Inside , in the foyer , a gigantic photo , possibly of the founder stared down at me . Bespectacled and fierce looking . As if asking "How dare you enter ?" I looked away .
Office of the in-charge (some sort of principal, ad hoc , or vice ) , was neat , and empty. A dulcet tone spoke , almost ventriloquy from the founder's lips . "May I help you ?" I jumped out of my skin . I looked at the photo and stammered "Actually ,I..." . Some one coughed at my elbow , and I saw a petite lady in a red kurti , looking at me with mild consternation.
Turns out , this was not the school I was looking for , as I suspected all the long while . The real school lay in the city . After obtaining correct directions (mildly vague still) , profuse apologising on both our parts (unnecessary drama), and refusing invitation to water /tea , or such nourishing beverages , Timmy and I sped back to crowded urban confusion .
Sun was at its peak , and things had begun looking bleak.
We had just entered Model Town for the second time , and following instructions , had reached a leafy avenue , where we espied a couple beneath a tree . A policeman and a policewoman (what is with this couple thing? Coincidences )sat on their respective bikes .
Timmy put the question to them . The woman kept an eye on us , from a distance , and the man cleared his throat and began .
He must have not proceeded much farther , when a man on another bike (a plainclothesman , or so he seemed) , forced his way into the conversation and said the dreaded words ," Follow me !I know the exact place !"
Timmy and I looked at each other , smiled , and set out to follow him . The police people were right when they had emphatically echoed each other ,"Laagge hee hai ." (It is close by !). It was indeed very close by .
A few twists and turns , all , thankfully , in familiar terrain ,and here we were . Facing a newly built building , some parts still under construction . The receptionist offered me a chair , by dislodging an older woman , who looked like an ayah. The floor outside the principal's office was scattered with the residues of ongoing construction . Moved furniture , spattered cement . and a dislodged portrait of the famous bespectacled founder . The photo was identical in every aspect to the one I had seen in the other "Tender Souls ". I greeted her as an old friend .She returned the stern stare back.
The receptionist was busy unentangling someone's paperwork . A student was being transferred between the two branches of the "T S" , and the hassled father had grown a stubble in the process, it seemed .
A clean shaven peon , sat on a stool at some distance and kept staring at the pretty receptionist with salivating , dogged -eye devotion .She talked , laughed on the phone , and he never let her out of his sight , even when tying the shoelaces of a boy or retrieving an eraser off the ground . Several cute school girls in short skirts and giggly , dimpled faces , walked past him , but he had eyes only for the lady . It was touching and creepy , at the same time .
The Principal didn't seem to be letting up talking to two sets of parents any time soon . It was 1430 , and I felt I should barge in before I succumb to hypoglycaemia or dehydration , or both . She received me with warmth . But before she could speak , a man sitting next to her , his back to us , swivelled around , and answered my query .
"A test by CBSE , on Sunday , NEET Exam." I nodded dumbly . Relieved at having someone comprehending an iota of what I was talking about .
I was reassured that this was the venue . The exam? Well, the NEET team comes down from the national capital , dislodges the school functionaries, takes over the foyer , classrooms and conducts the tests, he answered blithely . Sounding somewhat resentful of the whole arrangement . The principal just nodded dumbly. Talking of the real powers behind the thrones .
Reassured , Timmy and I raced back home , with two stops . One for refuelling the car , and another for slaking Timmy's parched throat .
No , I didn't climb mountains , or was stranded in an island full of caves , which were conveniently full of canned food .
Neither did I save the world .
The adventure was more like a wild-goose -chase .
On a barmy morning , I set out to look for a school . A school where an important exam was to be held . It had a common ring to it , and every third bus was emblazoned with its name . For reference sake , we shall call it "The tender Soul's School". It was a chain of schools , but at this point in time , I didn't know that .
Timmy , the driver , poked his head out at the first intersection of the Model Town , and espied a young couple . The girl had a black and white dupatta around her face and was incredibly thin . The boy was bearded , rotund , looked at us puzzled . Tapped the side of his head , as if looking into its sparse reserves , and hummed ominously . The lady , astride a purring scooter , vroomed into view .
"Bhaiya ! ' She commanded Timmy . "Follow me ! I know the exact place ".
We started , like lost sheep , and the lady in scooty braked hard . Screech , Screech. She braked , we braked . "Maa nu das deyin mein ghar challin haan ." (Tell Mom I have started for home ). She screamed at Mr. Beard . He nodded absently , still figuring out the latitude and longitude of "Tender Souls " . "Paaji ... "He began a fresh set of instructions for Timmy , and was promptly interrupted . Lady Diana , raised her barely visible eyebrows , yanked his arm , and him into present tense " Main ki kya ..." (what did I tell you ?)
"Aaho , aaho " We were not the only meek sheep here. "Mein phone kardaan ." (I will just call )
The lady took off , zigzagging the traffic with professional ease . She stayed a comfortable 20 feet ahead of us , regardless of the state of intervening vehicles . Thelas , stray dogs , SUVs, she ducked them all , and sailed past , her gossamer thin dupatta waving , and her thin frame hardly breaking into a sweat . It was a feast for the eyes . Now I know what ringside spectators at formula 1 races feel like.
The worrisome fact was , we had left Model Town behind . Long ago . And the admit card clearly mentioned Model Town . Well, I thought , maybe this was some other Model Town , in the same city , like M.G.Road in Mumbai , of which there are several , I am told.
The bungalows were replaced with humbler abodes of living . Karyana shops scaled down . The vast fields of ripe golden wheat , awaiting harvest , replaced choc-a-bloc houses and shops . The air grew thinner , and cleaner . The road divider disappeared . We had crossed the town limits and came upon the famous water park , called" Wonderland ". I remember being told it was 25 kms from city centre . We had literally , gone off on a limb here.
Suddenly , we saw the girl come to a halt at an intersection . She waved us on , straight ahead , "maybe a kilometre or two " .
Another enquiry had to be made at a cycle repair shop , who asked us to take the first right and then second left.
A large campus of sorts loomed ahead . Sweeping driveway . Gateposts , watchmen , manicured hedges bordering the property , and a massive board proclaiming "Tender Souls' Group of Institutions " . We felt as if in our quest for a bit of gold , we had hit the mother lode .
First entry , for any enquiry , had to be made in a register at the gate . Name , purpose of visit , time of entry .
Second entry at the receptionist's table . A sleepy lady , bored to death , just mechanically pushed the fat register in my direction . Name , phone number , If I was a parent (here I lied and wrote that I was one , as every visitor ahead of me was , and not being one would put me on the spotlight , rather painfully), what business(official), with whom (principal ) , I gawped at my own cheek and pushed it back . She just motioned me up an impressive flight of stairs , painted red , and lined with leafy pots .
Inside , in the foyer , a gigantic photo , possibly of the founder stared down at me . Bespectacled and fierce looking . As if asking "How dare you enter ?" I looked away .
Office of the in-charge (some sort of principal, ad hoc , or vice ) , was neat , and empty. A dulcet tone spoke , almost ventriloquy from the founder's lips . "May I help you ?" I jumped out of my skin . I looked at the photo and stammered "Actually ,I..." . Some one coughed at my elbow , and I saw a petite lady in a red kurti , looking at me with mild consternation.
Turns out , this was not the school I was looking for , as I suspected all the long while . The real school lay in the city . After obtaining correct directions (mildly vague still) , profuse apologising on both our parts (unnecessary drama), and refusing invitation to water /tea , or such nourishing beverages , Timmy and I sped back to crowded urban confusion .
Sun was at its peak , and things had begun looking bleak.
We had just entered Model Town for the second time , and following instructions , had reached a leafy avenue , where we espied a couple beneath a tree . A policeman and a policewoman (what is with this couple thing? Coincidences )sat on their respective bikes .
Timmy put the question to them . The woman kept an eye on us , from a distance , and the man cleared his throat and began .
He must have not proceeded much farther , when a man on another bike (a plainclothesman , or so he seemed) , forced his way into the conversation and said the dreaded words ," Follow me !I know the exact place !"
Timmy and I looked at each other , smiled , and set out to follow him . The police people were right when they had emphatically echoed each other ,"Laagge hee hai ." (It is close by !). It was indeed very close by .
A few twists and turns , all , thankfully , in familiar terrain ,and here we were . Facing a newly built building , some parts still under construction . The receptionist offered me a chair , by dislodging an older woman , who looked like an ayah. The floor outside the principal's office was scattered with the residues of ongoing construction . Moved furniture , spattered cement . and a dislodged portrait of the famous bespectacled founder . The photo was identical in every aspect to the one I had seen in the other "Tender Souls ". I greeted her as an old friend .She returned the stern stare back.
The receptionist was busy unentangling someone's paperwork . A student was being transferred between the two branches of the "T S" , and the hassled father had grown a stubble in the process, it seemed .
A clean shaven peon , sat on a stool at some distance and kept staring at the pretty receptionist with salivating , dogged -eye devotion .She talked , laughed on the phone , and he never let her out of his sight , even when tying the shoelaces of a boy or retrieving an eraser off the ground . Several cute school girls in short skirts and giggly , dimpled faces , walked past him , but he had eyes only for the lady . It was touching and creepy , at the same time .
The Principal didn't seem to be letting up talking to two sets of parents any time soon . It was 1430 , and I felt I should barge in before I succumb to hypoglycaemia or dehydration , or both . She received me with warmth . But before she could speak , a man sitting next to her , his back to us , swivelled around , and answered my query .
"A test by CBSE , on Sunday , NEET Exam." I nodded dumbly . Relieved at having someone comprehending an iota of what I was talking about .
I was reassured that this was the venue . The exam? Well, the NEET team comes down from the national capital , dislodges the school functionaries, takes over the foyer , classrooms and conducts the tests, he answered blithely . Sounding somewhat resentful of the whole arrangement . The principal just nodded dumbly. Talking of the real powers behind the thrones .
Reassured , Timmy and I raced back home , with two stops . One for refuelling the car , and another for slaking Timmy's parched throat .
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