A girlie talk

Its time to write about girls.

Not the way you expect, but how the little boys looked at them. 

There were many girls at the nursery class, but we little ones never looked at them as girls, the perception was gender free, they were just play mates, we never had  separate seats or play area, we all played together. But a graduation to the first standard shattered all the myths, we had separate desks and benches and even separate areas to sit. To see girls we had to look right, they had their typical hair do, a different attire that spoke out they are girlies, and the bags even, all contributed to an intended cultivation of a taboo that boys and girls are two different species. 

The taboo brought different perceptions, say ways of seeing.

Little girls became alien creatures, sometimes things of curiosity. 

My curiosity was quite different, several times I asked myself why they didn’t talk to boys, but there was two or three exceptions, one was Sreekala, the girl who looked like the Little Red Riding Hood, she always wore a scarf, and was very talkative. Her shrill voice shattered the  silence of the class, but she was never scolded, Saramma Mani our class teacher liked her a lot. Sreekala was with me since the first standard, I don’t know where Sreekala is now. 

Another specimen of curiosity was the twin sisters Asha and Roopa. Both of them had a crying face, they never smiled, never answered the questions teachers asked, and never shared their pangs with anyone. They simply looked at  others, a sort of innocent gaze, and never joined our pranks. I have often felt that they never talked to each other even. There was another wonderful pair in our class, Biju and Jiju who came from Paruthippara. The school bus would drop them at their steps and would take a turn in the narrow road close to their home that just fits a bus. Ammavan who took the role of a grandpa and the driver had a tedious time turning the bus, first at Paruthippara and then at Kariyam. Biju and Jiju once cornered Asha and Roopa after a test paper, Biju plainly put it, ‘Why don’t you study at home?’ Jiju was quite sober and full of compassion, he would ask about their father and mother. I was just a witness, I didn’t want to interfere, the twin sisters just returned their innocent gaze, no answers at all. I too felt sorry for them, and often tried to smile at them. The same innocent gaze, nothing much. But Roopa surprised me one day, when Saramma Mani teacher sent me out of the class, for going out to take a paper rocket. I had my green water bottle around my neck, I was thirsty but no water to drink. Roopa helped me to get some water, and it was good sign of a wonderful friendship, back at class the twin sisters smiled, I returned and there after we talked every day.  These all happened at the first standard, the first class room down the steps; I think two more class rooms were there, occupied by the nursery. I will come back to that later. 

Saramma Mani was fond of Banu too. Banu was tiny but cute, she was not talkative like Sreekala  but was active. She rolled around the class like a tennis ball, rebounding from benches to benches. Saramma Mani used to call her Bhaanu not Banu. Sometimes she called her Bhanumathy out of love. 

Another face that illuminated our class was Supriya, with her film star looks. She had height and size, and her pleasant face always wore a smile showing her beautiful teeth. Supriya most often interacted with us, so we crooked boys had no complaint against her. I think her father was in Malaysia, thats what she once told me. 

Other two faces that looked serene were that of Reena and Sumitha. Reena was always in a contemplative mood, her blue ribbon ran across her head like a bow, she had a perfect fit and style accentuated by her ribbon and hair do. Sumitha and Janadas came together, either they were family friends or they were neighbours. Sumitha had a poise of doing things, her presence was always felt, but did not over do things like Sreekala.  Lekha was notable with her village girl looks and mannerisms. But the most quiet in our class was Geetha, she is now working as Associate Professor in English somewhere. 

When the little boys graduated to higher classes they found that the girls have become more attractive than aliens that inspired curiosity. The first sense of the fatal attraction was aired by Jyothish George when we were in the third standard.  Jyothish was referring to Anitha M who was Banu’s neighbour and friend who always accompanied her. I think Anitha came in the second or third standard and left the school after primary classes. Anitha was beautiful in the parameters of the seventies, she was the only one who beautifully spoke English.  

In the third standard Rosamma was our class teacher, she was a well built woman, very fair and strict. But she cared the little children like Saramma Mani, who was an abode of love. One day while taking attendance Rosamma teacher, asked Anitha 

‘Why were you absent yesterday’ 

‘Because I was ill, I had sore throat too’ a clean reply as a volley in tennis. 

All the little boys looked at her, they felt proud of Anitha, who spoke at least one sentence in fairly good English. Our eyes rolled and rolled after her, Banu never knew the price of the jewel she was carrying around.

 So when we shifted our premises to the high school, all the excitement went off, it was a different air up there, the girls became very serious, and less interactive. One thing we noticed was that they have grown bigger than us boys. They looked down upon us, frowned upon us and they behaved like matured women. 

At the fifth standard, Sheela Raghunath was the focal point of attraction, with her creative talents. I still remember her plastic school bag in yellow, orange, white and black combination, the little boys too wanted the colour combination like that. But the class became a friction point with occasional fights with Suja Mary Samuel. These frictions were always there till we parted with girls at the seventh standard.  Suja Mary Samuel’s legacy was carried over by Shamsha, she often fought with boys, but she was quite loveable. 

But one good word has to be told, its all about Chitra, she was such good friend and an understanding girl. She never frowned upon the little boys, so was Beena KR.  Another good name was Gija Bhai, I don’t know how many would recollect her, I only knew her real story when Annie told, many years later. ‘Eda why don’t we trace her, I really want to meet her ‘, Annie said with compassion

‘ I too ‘ , I retorted.

Gija Bhai in fact lost an year at the sixth standard. 

On the first day, when I stepped in to our sixth class, at the left end of that old building down below, Gija Bhai warned me that passing sixth standard is quite difficult. I believed her, because for me she appeared like a sister figure. 

Sisters flourished, after the seventh standard. 

Ammachi took away Anitha Mathew, Anitha Mathew Mavelil, Suja Susan, Suja Mary Samuel and many others. She made us pledge in the name of the nation and constitution.

We are brothers and sisters.

It was the end of all.