It is probably in May/June of 1946 (a year earlier than the Indian independence from the British occupation, in 1947), in the morning about 7 AM I was dropped off at the kindergarten (Shishu) class of Adampur Lower Primary school with a lot of excitement and apprehension in my mind.
As the son of a landlord of a small village, Adampur I was assured of one thing, I would not be receiving “any” hand beating punishment for being late to the school, as the others being late. Students being further late will be progressively getting increasingly more hand beating punishment, the usual practice being late. The first late student will receive “1” small beating, and then the number and intensity of beating will go up. I think there were about 9-10 students in my class, and the last one to arrive usually, when he/she realizes the unavoidable punishment would start crying loudly and immediately informs the dropping off father/mother accompanying the kid that he/she forgot that last night he/she was extremely sick and now even more sick. The accompanying person immediately makes up the story to tell the teacher that the kid was extremely sick and the teacher considers the sickness.
it is 9 AM: I noticed my uncle, a postmaster, also equally a great guy and respectable citizen passed by on the road riding a by-cycle , about 50 feet away. I defiinitely wanted him to know that I am surviving the first day of the school pretty well, and shouted, “Sana Baba (uncle)- look I am here.” That was immediately flagged as a not acceptable behavior by Janda (means ant), name of the teacher and I was told that behavior was unacceptable from the child of a landlord and I shank. He explained to me that calling a person from the back who is starting out on a mission, religeous trip, or auspicious occasion is a very bad behavior and a bad luck for the person making the trip. When that happens the mission person had to break the trip, go back home for a restart, and completely break the trip or restarts again. My feeling shank and I quietly prayed God that my uncle’s should stay unharmed and safe. Never has happened even after my 48 years in America.
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