The Good Morning Diaries

This is not a story, not an incident, but just a log of what I did each morning for a good part of my childhood. I am borrowing heavily from an article called 'The Entity' that I had written 7 years ago for my school and college hostel magazines. So if you find the text too familiar, you know where the inspiration comes from. :)

For those of you who don't already know, I was brought up in this 'far far away' town called Port Blair. I have been away from home for a long time now. Thinking of this town brings back post card picture type memories. An uneasy feeling follows, a pining to be there once again. When I think too hard, my mind takes me to the memories my morning walks, and the long romance with a place. It all started when my cousin who used to stay with us started going for his early morning jogs. The fact that he wouldn't take me along, instilled the will in me to go out all alone. He'd wake up at 4, an hour before sunrise and sneak out silently. Being the smart fox that I was, I'd wake on my own and follow him. I'd keep a measured distance from him so as to not bother him and more importantly to make myself feel safe. He moved out in some time and then I started venturing out all on my own. The time of which I talk about, I was 9 years of age.

The place where I was stayed is called Atlanta Point. When I get started every morning, the first few hundred meters was the most daunting. The challenges included a curved dark road, the street dogs and a few baleful things- the MP's wooden quarters, the tin shack on the farthest end of road, and a giant mango tree. Port Blair is a town of small hills; you'd never go too far without climbing up or down. And my house being on a hill top, I'd cut across the streets and take that small steep pathway amidst the creepers. This route and the falls taken here have given me scars on my forehead which I still carry. But I would look at the street lights ahead and run. Distant barking ensued. It would get interesting when the dogs caught up. When the proximity increased, I'd stop and bend over to pick up a stone and make a quick movement of the hand as if about to throw. That would make them stop and retreat a few steps but the barking would become shriller and quicker. I'd slowly inch forward and then do the same thing again, only much slower the next time. When I get to the street lights and a good distance away from the canines territory, they would turn back. From where I stood, a left turn and a fifty meter walk would take me to Cellular Jail-the national memorial. And right in front and below me lies 'The Place'

The Place, The Activities
In front of me lies the Stadium, the long arced road lining the sea, flanked by the Marina Park to it's left, the Water Sports complex and the distant islands. I have distinct memories of this place.
The Stadium-I can even remember when my mother carried me to a rally held by Rajiv Gandhi! From a long distance I waved at Rajiv and he waved back and I would talk about that to my friends for years to come. Each day, well after sunrise, I'd look in and around the stadium and if I was lucky I'd find someone to play with.
The Park- It was well lit, had gardens, and a small playground for kids and till sunrise, I used to restrict myself to this place. So I'd just walk in the park, have my turns at the swing, the jungle gym, the seesaw and the many equipments. I'd try and jog for some distance. Then there was this traffic park, where kids could cycle. I struck a deal with the Policemen there to let me cycle for 30 mins for 2 Rs which was double the time for the same money and without having to follow and the traffic lights!
The Water Sports complex-It was a fisherman's hub then. Vakkom Purshotaman taking over as the Lt Governor of this place and a big investment had turned it into an amusement area. It was like a rectangular bridge with the farthest point being 100 ms into the sea. At the end of this was Aberdeen Jetty. You didn't have to go Scuba Diving to see the rich life in the sea. You might not believe it, but my daily sightings were small sharks, the iridescent fishes, sea horses, water snakes, sea cucumbers, crabs and multitudes of other creatures whose names I do not know! And on luckier days, even more exotic specimen like the jelly fishes! All you could do was hold on to the railing and be awed!

The Odd Characters
Apart from the mundane crowd - the fat, the old, the resident athletes of Netaji Stadium, the very young like me and a few fitness enthusiasts, sometimes you'd come across some not so common characters.
One of them was a shriveled old fellow who used to carry a walking stick and walk very briskly. He served the British army during WW II and fought the Japs when they occupied the islands between 42 and 45. The legend about him was that on being stranded on an island for weeks and on not finding any food, he survived on flesh from Jap wrists! I don't remember his name but everyone seemed to know him and to have heard of his tale. So each morning when he was in sight, I'd move off the road and watch him walk. One day he smiled and asked me to walk with him. Reluctant at first, I gave in and tried-not walking but running to keep pace with him and didn't manage to get too far. He was a friendly face that day onwards.

Then there was this RSS sevak in his khakis and shorts who would teach Yoga to kids. I suppose he was just trying to find a few recruits. One day, he got hold of me and a few other kids and after a few exercises, he took us to the statue of Subhash Chandra Bose who is immortalized in the Park in his 'Dilli Chalo' pose. He lined us up. Eyes closed, hands joined, he asked us to repeat the prayer he was muttering. It must have been in 'Elvish' or 'Sanskrit', just couldn't get a line right! It started with a giggle, a 'hehehe', followed by the 'Shhh Shhh' and the 'Umm Umm' s from the reciter. Soon we were all holding our bellies and laughing. And before the RSS chap could finish his prayers or maybe even open his eyes, we were all scattered, running in different directions.

A Day
The sea was calm and was gently caressed by the cool winds and the clouds gracefully hid the moon. Though still dark, the silhouette of the Ross Island right in front of me was clear. And with the North Bay to its left, where the light house stood dutifully-doing it's routine round of circles. The wind just got cooler as it brought down a drizzle along with it.

Slowly the sun rose from behind the Ross. It wasn't at its usual glorious bright self, portent of what was to come. I ambled towards the Aberdeen Jetty - a pier with a narrow long pathway and with a small concrete structure as waiting area. On the way, there is a small pool at the side, with sea water as the source and with sand at the base and where kids swim and play. I had been asked not to get in and as I passed I watched them play, wanting to get in myself. I got to the jetty and as I stood there, a sudden gust of wind caught me and the jetty being so narrow I could help feeling that I might be blown into the waters. And then the cloudburst! I ran into the shelter. The winds got stronger and staying in the shelter did not do any good as it was open at both ends. As a young boy, I was foolishly gallant. And the conviction in my own powers was such that even if the devil himself came down I could have beaten him blue and black. Or was it? I stood there thinking of the lesson about the sea monsters that I had learnt and couldn't help wondering what would happen if one popped up in front of me. (Now that I already had a rendezvous with a real monster in school :) ) There was the real threat of being caught in a storm and the illusory threat of monsters which a mind fed on imaginative literature was playing up. Just seeing someone might have given some respite.

The weather got more inclement. I had a dilemma: either run back or stay, with the risks involved in either case. I was drenched with rain and cold with fear. Though frightened at first, an enthrallment took over. People talk of moments when you really feel alive-when your senses are so heightened that butterfly's wing beat or every falling rain drop can be heard. Well! This was one such moment. Stranger still was the emotion of being dwarfed by something and still feeling powerful.

I stayed and long! And with the rain thumping down on the waters and the winds playing mischievous, there was something that I knew deep within myself-That this picture had been etched on to my mind and the joy of having this bounty was to last a long time.








And that I would blog about it almost two decades later! :P