quidnovis61

 +39.6ºC.

Hyderabad (in southern India) was scorching. The dry heat (RH is barely 28%) is the only thing that makes it ever so slightly bearable... had it been a coastal town I would have re-booked my tickets or just stayed indoors 24/7. However, the evenings turn relatively pleasant here  - remember, I said, relatively....which means that the temps come down to a less-scorching 34ºC or so... The pollution in the old city area is appalling. Albeit that, I like my forays into the milling, bustling, teeming street life that opens up in the glaring naked bulbs of the myriad shops noisily hugging street after street....spilling out on to the pavements. Its my own gratis Son et lumière show - a treat for the senses!

 

Parvez(our driver) and I went to Abids- a shopping area in the OldCity to do some shopping. The pollution...hmmm.... literally took my breath away :-/ But there were other 'treats' awaiting that far out weighed the momentary discomfort of rickety buses and auto rickshaws belching out diesel fumes - the unfortunate bane of urban India.

 

F.D Khan  - my favourite cloth shop - has a collection of cloths that anyone can just dream of. I of course immediately bought a beautiful piece. What is it that Oscar Wilde has so sensibly put? "The only way to be rid of a temptation is to fall for it"... How right he was. And keeping that in mind I bought that beautiful piece that would put a male peacock in dance-mode to shame.  It is, what my American friends would call: AWESOME! Yes, there were some other pretty awesome bales of cloths but I have a personal rule about falling for just ONE temptation a day :-) and so, my daily quota was up!

 

As is the tradition for Parvez and I - we always stop to have coconut water on our way back home. It is my all time favourite drink. It has just the right balance of sweet and salt, it is always cool no matter how hot it is outside, it is readily available in every street-road-alley corner in India, it is high on minerals and low on fat and carbohydrates  - and the best of all - it comes in its own sterile packaging. What more could one wish for?

 

I have learnt a lot about coconut water from Parvez.... where the best ones come from (Bangalore) and why (because of the soil and the temperate climate) and thereby most expensive but also having the most water in them... they cost a "whopping" INR 20.00 each (25 pence) as compared to the ten rupee coconuts. I have also learnt where they get the coconuts from (Rythuu-mandi which is Telegu- the local language- for Farmers market) and how much profit they make per day - it isn't really too bad as far as daily earnings go... but the discomfort of standing all day in the hot tropical sun is a tough working environment indeed... if they are lucky they might find a spot under the shade of a tree.... and the top luxury is to have a plastic chair to sit on...

 

One usually finds the coconut-wallahs (street-vendors) under the shade of a tree with a mound of coconuts on his cart or on the ground. Its a simple business and does not require any paraphernalia... We stopped by the coconut-wallah near the local hospital there was a tiny face with sparkling eyes and teeth looking at me and smiling from under the cart!

 

He said: Amandee! (Hello in Telegu).

 

And that was how I met Sai...!

 

Sai is a charming young fellow! It was a pleasure talking to him.

 

He asked me how many coconuts I wanted. I saw his father behind him and told him I would like two please.

But, to my astonishment, this young boy jumped up and replied he would get them for me. His father smiled benignly...

Sai could certainly wield the heavy snarling sickle-knife with great dexterity... this was clearly not the first time he was doing this!  He served it to me with a flourish and a grin on his face that seemed to say:

Oh ye of little faith! See! I could fix it, couldn't I?

 

 We conversed while I sipped the cool liquid that trickled down and soothed my parched throat. Sai is 12 years old. He studies in the VIII standard. And he goes to the small local school everyday except Sundays... what was most amazing was, that his school hours were 9 am to 8pm. I had no idea. It included everything... lunch, snacks, studies, exams, cricket games, playing in the courtyard - and homework for the next day! But he came every night to help his father before bed-time!

He spoke good enough English. I asked him what his favourite subjects were and pat came the reply:

Social studies: that included Geography, History and Civics! After a split second he said with a broad grin:

No...actually the best subject is Cricket! :-)

Boys will be boys!

He told me about his friends... he told me about the innings he had made...he told me about the bigger boys who were stronger and faster... he told me about how he had caught the ball once and the other team was out!... he told me how good he was at "spinning the ball"...he spoke animatedly in cricket-speak that I have long since forgotten... arm ball/spin off/hat trick/LBW/innings...and so on. He jolted memories and sent me spinning 45 years back in time when these words too came naturally to me... when running out into the field, or the cantonment park or the street outside the house meant a few hours of cricket-fun with friends before it was time for home work... I went reeling back all those years as I saw myself in his eyes... it was a run down memory lane - cricket bat, ball, shin pads and stumps in hand.

 

I remember seeing a cricket cartoon from the July 1920 issue of Punch:

 

Young Cricketer. "Yes, I cocked one off the splice in the gully and the blighter gathered it."
Father. "Yes, but how did you get out? Were you caught, stumped, bowled, or what?"

I smiled into the warm night in misty nostalgic remembrance....

And what did he want to be when he grew up? He didn't really know he said. Maybe a cricketer! Then he changed his mind and said that would not be possible... so he would settle for being a police.

 

And then he thought for a while again and said... Nooo, actually what he really wanted to be was to be a teacher in Social studies. He would like to go to the nearby villages and teach them Geography. He would tell them of all the beautiful places there were in the world (=Itna sab sundar sundar jagha hai, he explained in Hindi)...of maps and capitals and rivers and mountains and villages and towns and the people and transportation and clouds and lakes ... and then he would teach them Civics - our duties as a citizen, the government and politics.

 

There was so much compassion in his voice.

There was Will. There was Hope. There was Determination. There was Idealism.

 

In young voices like his resides the future of India. From humble beginnings to wanting to teach others to be better - not to hunger just for monetary gains and riches. Education is the key to many of our problems that fester and corrode the very structure of our society - any society.

 

That evening, leaning against the car, sipping cool coconut water in the dark hot tropical night, I found Hope. Maybe a lot will change in young Sai's life - maybe he won't be able to realise his dreams and ambitions. I don't know. I may never meet him again. I can but hope and pray that Sai and other young people like Sai in India and elsewhere will be able to lead a rich and fulfilling life - educating others and getting educated themselves in the process. Of having their dreams come true.

 

(I met him once more before I left India)

 

I wished my coconut water would have lasted even longer...He smiled and waved as he carted away the old coconuts on his trolley - and disappeared into the velvety night in the bustling alley by our flat....

 

Signing off for now.

C.S!
(Cresat Scientia/ May knowledge grow/Må kunskapen växa)