You know that thing abt the first crush...how it's always special and you always, always clutch it close to your heart w/ a fondness, which sometimes literally borders on the insane?
Well last night, I suddenly realized that I had been clutching the wrong one all this while!
An image which has always haunted me since like forever, but one which I had never managed to place, last night, suddenly propped itself firmly under my finger! I'm not sure if it was my thumb or the index finger, but it all suddenly became clear as daylight!
But first, it's only fair that I talk abt my just-dethroned erstwhile First Crush. BTW, tho' it has lost the crown, my fondness for it has not diminished even in the least bit!
Anyway...
I've always believed that my first crush happened during my Jr KG year -- ya I know I started a li'l too early, but wot cld I do...this world is suchhh an enchanting place ;-)
I still remember it warmly n vividly...so much so that I can still feel the crispy wafers crunching aah-so-deliciously in my mouth. Thing is, it was recess and I was sitting under one of the mango trees -- we had two, n mercifully they're both still there -- in the compound of the primary section of our school...w/ the tiffin box -- which BTW, was the sole reason for my even agreeing to go to school! -- perched happily in my lap, being fed crispy wafers and sweet pink strawberry crackers. I was crazy abt those crackers, actually more than the crackers, I loved the soft shiny pink wrappings they came in. They tore so noiselessly and so easily...as if they understood my eagerness to get to those light as light rectangular pieces of sheer delight...n they melted tingling on the tongue...
I still dun understand how I managed to tear my eyes away from those delicious distractions. But then again, it's not that surprising coz wot I saw next has survived in my heart w/ a fondness really bordering on the insane...n one which still refuses to diminish inspite of having been toppled from the top slot...well, atleast chronologically speaking...
Hmmm...wot I saw was a very very pretty woman in a tight black skirt n off-white frilly blouse. She had just walked out of the classroom...straight into my heart! She was the most amazing woman I had ever seen...ok, I agree my life had been barely a few years old, but she really was something. Not just pretty, but she was one of those women who knew how to "maintain" herself. The last time I saw her was when I was in my 9th or 10th std...n even after so many years, she was almost just as pretty n just as shapely as she had been during that beautiful recess many many years ago! :)
Even when I had moved to the secondary section, which was housed in a separate building, I used to make a pilgrimage to her class...no, I wasnt obsessed...it used to be once in a while ;-)
But I must admit that I used to wish very earnestly to get demoted many times over, just so I'd smhow land up, back in that nursery class of hers...so I cld sit on those tiny colorful chairs n watch her endlessly ;-)
Ok now abt that image :)
It's actually frm the very early years of my childhood. I was born in my village -- apparently it's a tradition...atleast on our side to have the first child at the mother's maternal home -- and spent a few years there. I dun remember anything from those years, except for this image.
It was of a very young woman, in a white saree walking by our house. She was fair, which is again a rarity down south, which is where I am frm. She had nice black hair tied back in a bun. Now I know u'll say all the women I seem to get attracted to, all smhow seem to be fair n moreover wearing white. But it's not so. I actually have a thing for dusky complexion! Abt the white saree, I really cldnt do much abt it. She shd've been wearing smthng different...maybe a plain blue saree or smthng brighter, smthng more colorful...bright colors go well on a fair complexion. Maybe this is the reason, that image managed to remain elusive for all these years! Something brighter wld've certainly made a much stronger impression!
Anyway, the woman in question was a distant aunt. Actually in the village, everybody was related to everybody in some way...sometimes in more than one way!
Our village economy revolved around beedi making...atleast for most women...n for even some men! Now beedi-making is quite an involved process and it starts a day in advance. U need to collect the leaves, the tobacco and the string -- we used to get pink colored one...it depended on the brand of beedi...I think the one made in our village was Shivaji Beedi. The leaves would first be soaked in water for a while to make them soft...otherwise they'd be brittle n cldnt be cut into the rectangular strips needed to make the beedis. The delicate pink thread had to wound onto tiny spindles. I used to love this task. The thread wld come in a soft soft bunch n it had to be untangled before it cld be wound onto the spindle. I've ever since been majorly fascinated by disentangling of string. Infact I used to enjoy untangling the 'maanja' more than even flying the kite.
Then there was an assortment of cute li'l specialized instruments for making beedis...scissors, a sort of metal strip which was used as a template for cutting the leaves into the proper shape, a winnowing basket to keep the strips of leaves and tobacco. N there wld be some ash, usually kept in a coconut shell...this was used to keep the fingers dry while rolling the beedis. Somehow that coconut shell would always seem like it's come from a different era...it almost had an archaelogically-significant look abt it.
I sometimes feel that if I had tried doping, I wld've been really adept at rolling joints. But smhow smoking has never appealed to me. Oh ya, there wld also be a small metal rod, a bit like a blunt nail, which wld be used to seal the heads of the beedis. Some women had real fancy ones, nice n smooth n shiny. I remember distincly, being very tempted to steal them ;-)
The women wld gather in groups at smone's house in the morning to cut the beedi leaves into those rectangular shapes. Wot I remember most is the sound of scissors going snip-snip-snip around those metal strips.
It was so rhythmic...almost music!
My mom's house had a nice awning outside, made of branches and leaves. The best part of the awning were the nests. Sparrows wld raise their chicks in them. I remember lying under that awning on a charpai on hot summer afternoons, in the shade, looking w/ absolute wonderment at those li'l birds ceaselessly tirelessly bringing food for those tiny cheeping chicks.
And below the cheeping chicks, the women wld gossip and laugh and crack jokes. Everybody was good at proverbs...there was one for every damn occassion! I used to be absolutely bewildered by the number n utility of those proverbs! It seemed to me that these women came out of the womb already crammed w/ all those proverbs, coz even the li'l girls knew how to use them! I dunno...I used to love hanging out w/ these always-laughing-joking-making-fun women! Maybe that's where my fascination for women began...n it hasnt abated since...au contraire, it has only grown w/ time ;-)
Anyway, it was during one of these leaf-cutting sessions that I saw her come frm the lane which snaked around our house...w/ a small basket on her hips, draped in a nine yard saree, looking very fresh, very delicate n very tender. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell u one important obsession of these women. They loved chewing paan. So this woman, my beautiful distant aunt, also had a paan in her mouth. That red color of the paan on her lips, went very well w/ her fair complexion n her white saree. She looked damn pretty, especially the way she was carrying her li'l basket on her hips. She came n stood clutching her tiny basket on her hips, making small talk w/ the other women n I just cldnt take my eyes off her. There was smthng very sensuous abt her whole demeanour...of course I dinno anything abt sensuousness then...I was too bloody young...
Now that the image has come, I think what I had liked abt her was her youth. And her quiet silent smile among those boisterous cackles of women.
It's a really nice image, not just for this beautiful woman, but also for those simpler pieces of village life...where everybody knew everybody, where everybody was even related to everybody, where everybody was either an uncle or an aunt or a brother or a grandfather...where u cld go to anybody's house n eat a nice hearty meal...just like that...just go n help urself to anything u liked. If the sabzi at ur place wasnt good, u cld go to smone else's...usually wot cooked in the surrounding kitchens was common knowledge, so u cld pick n choose...once the main course had been taken care of, u cld go to yet another house n take a dollop of deliciously spicy mouth-watering pickles...n then move onto yet another house where u cld eat w/ a side dish of the juiciest gossip...or if u were the restless-soul variety, u cld eat strolling like a vagabond...but w/ a plateful of food!
I am very glad this image has come back to me...it's given me a bite of a slice of life long-gone...a life which will never come back...but one I'll always treasure...
I can still hear those chattering women...n that young woman w/ red lips, n a li'l basket held delicately on her hips...n I cant help but smile :)
Well last night, I suddenly realized that I had been clutching the wrong one all this while!
An image which has always haunted me since like forever, but one which I had never managed to place, last night, suddenly propped itself firmly under my finger! I'm not sure if it was my thumb or the index finger, but it all suddenly became clear as daylight!
But first, it's only fair that I talk abt my just-dethroned erstwhile First Crush. BTW, tho' it has lost the crown, my fondness for it has not diminished even in the least bit!
Anyway...
I've always believed that my first crush happened during my Jr KG year -- ya I know I started a li'l too early, but wot cld I do...this world is suchhh an enchanting place ;-)
I still remember it warmly n vividly...so much so that I can still feel the crispy wafers crunching aah-so-deliciously in my mouth. Thing is, it was recess and I was sitting under one of the mango trees -- we had two, n mercifully they're both still there -- in the compound of the primary section of our school...w/ the tiffin box -- which BTW, was the sole reason for my even agreeing to go to school! -- perched happily in my lap, being fed crispy wafers and sweet pink strawberry crackers. I was crazy abt those crackers, actually more than the crackers, I loved the soft shiny pink wrappings they came in. They tore so noiselessly and so easily...as if they understood my eagerness to get to those light as light rectangular pieces of sheer delight...n they melted tingling on the tongue...
I still dun understand how I managed to tear my eyes away from those delicious distractions. But then again, it's not that surprising coz wot I saw next has survived in my heart w/ a fondness really bordering on the insane...n one which still refuses to diminish inspite of having been toppled from the top slot...well, atleast chronologically speaking...
Hmmm...wot I saw was a very very pretty woman in a tight black skirt n off-white frilly blouse. She had just walked out of the classroom...straight into my heart! She was the most amazing woman I had ever seen...ok, I agree my life had been barely a few years old, but she really was something. Not just pretty, but she was one of those women who knew how to "maintain" herself. The last time I saw her was when I was in my 9th or 10th std...n even after so many years, she was almost just as pretty n just as shapely as she had been during that beautiful recess many many years ago! :)
Even when I had moved to the secondary section, which was housed in a separate building, I used to make a pilgrimage to her class...no, I wasnt obsessed...it used to be once in a while ;-)
But I must admit that I used to wish very earnestly to get demoted many times over, just so I'd smhow land up, back in that nursery class of hers...so I cld sit on those tiny colorful chairs n watch her endlessly ;-)
Ok now abt that image :)
It's actually frm the very early years of my childhood. I was born in my village -- apparently it's a tradition...atleast on our side to have the first child at the mother's maternal home -- and spent a few years there. I dun remember anything from those years, except for this image.
It was of a very young woman, in a white saree walking by our house. She was fair, which is again a rarity down south, which is where I am frm. She had nice black hair tied back in a bun. Now I know u'll say all the women I seem to get attracted to, all smhow seem to be fair n moreover wearing white. But it's not so. I actually have a thing for dusky complexion! Abt the white saree, I really cldnt do much abt it. She shd've been wearing smthng different...maybe a plain blue saree or smthng brighter, smthng more colorful...bright colors go well on a fair complexion. Maybe this is the reason, that image managed to remain elusive for all these years! Something brighter wld've certainly made a much stronger impression!
Anyway, the woman in question was a distant aunt. Actually in the village, everybody was related to everybody in some way...sometimes in more than one way!
Our village economy revolved around beedi making...atleast for most women...n for even some men! Now beedi-making is quite an involved process and it starts a day in advance. U need to collect the leaves, the tobacco and the string -- we used to get pink colored one...it depended on the brand of beedi...I think the one made in our village was Shivaji Beedi. The leaves would first be soaked in water for a while to make them soft...otherwise they'd be brittle n cldnt be cut into the rectangular strips needed to make the beedis. The delicate pink thread had to wound onto tiny spindles. I used to love this task. The thread wld come in a soft soft bunch n it had to be untangled before it cld be wound onto the spindle. I've ever since been majorly fascinated by disentangling of string. Infact I used to enjoy untangling the 'maanja' more than even flying the kite.
Then there was an assortment of cute li'l specialized instruments for making beedis...scissors, a sort of metal strip which was used as a template for cutting the leaves into the proper shape, a winnowing basket to keep the strips of leaves and tobacco. N there wld be some ash, usually kept in a coconut shell...this was used to keep the fingers dry while rolling the beedis. Somehow that coconut shell would always seem like it's come from a different era...it almost had an archaelogically-significant look abt it.
I sometimes feel that if I had tried doping, I wld've been really adept at rolling joints. But smhow smoking has never appealed to me. Oh ya, there wld also be a small metal rod, a bit like a blunt nail, which wld be used to seal the heads of the beedis. Some women had real fancy ones, nice n smooth n shiny. I remember distincly, being very tempted to steal them ;-)
The women wld gather in groups at smone's house in the morning to cut the beedi leaves into those rectangular shapes. Wot I remember most is the sound of scissors going snip-snip-snip around those metal strips.
It was so rhythmic...almost music!
My mom's house had a nice awning outside, made of branches and leaves. The best part of the awning were the nests. Sparrows wld raise their chicks in them. I remember lying under that awning on a charpai on hot summer afternoons, in the shade, looking w/ absolute wonderment at those li'l birds ceaselessly tirelessly bringing food for those tiny cheeping chicks.
And below the cheeping chicks, the women wld gossip and laugh and crack jokes. Everybody was good at proverbs...there was one for every damn occassion! I used to be absolutely bewildered by the number n utility of those proverbs! It seemed to me that these women came out of the womb already crammed w/ all those proverbs, coz even the li'l girls knew how to use them! I dunno...I used to love hanging out w/ these always-laughing-joking-making-fun women! Maybe that's where my fascination for women began...n it hasnt abated since...au contraire, it has only grown w/ time ;-)
Anyway, it was during one of these leaf-cutting sessions that I saw her come frm the lane which snaked around our house...w/ a small basket on her hips, draped in a nine yard saree, looking very fresh, very delicate n very tender. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell u one important obsession of these women. They loved chewing paan. So this woman, my beautiful distant aunt, also had a paan in her mouth. That red color of the paan on her lips, went very well w/ her fair complexion n her white saree. She looked damn pretty, especially the way she was carrying her li'l basket on her hips. She came n stood clutching her tiny basket on her hips, making small talk w/ the other women n I just cldnt take my eyes off her. There was smthng very sensuous abt her whole demeanour...of course I dinno anything abt sensuousness then...I was too bloody young...
Now that the image has come, I think what I had liked abt her was her youth. And her quiet silent smile among those boisterous cackles of women.
It's a really nice image, not just for this beautiful woman, but also for those simpler pieces of village life...where everybody knew everybody, where everybody was even related to everybody, where everybody was either an uncle or an aunt or a brother or a grandfather...where u cld go to anybody's house n eat a nice hearty meal...just like that...just go n help urself to anything u liked. If the sabzi at ur place wasnt good, u cld go to smone else's...usually wot cooked in the surrounding kitchens was common knowledge, so u cld pick n choose...once the main course had been taken care of, u cld go to yet another house n take a dollop of deliciously spicy mouth-watering pickles...n then move onto yet another house where u cld eat w/ a side dish of the juiciest gossip...or if u were the restless-soul variety, u cld eat strolling like a vagabond...but w/ a plateful of food!
I am very glad this image has come back to me...it's given me a bite of a slice of life long-gone...a life which will never come back...but one I'll always treasure...
I can still hear those chattering women...n that young woman w/ red lips, n a li'l basket held delicately on her hips...n I cant help but smile :)
