A normal child’s fantasy

I don’t know if Gods have their favourites but I, a mere mortal, always had one – Lord Shiva.  During my growing up years, many of my friends aspired for a life like Krishna’s, the eternal lover, who was forever surrounded by gopis. But the restrictions levied on girls, by society, turned their dreams into wishful thinking. Lord Shiva’s image, on the other hand, was always more achievable. He was a one-woman man. So I aspired for what was achievable and shunned the Casanova life. That’s the kind of man I wanted to be.

But growing up could wait; urgency lay in my coming into this world. I did eventually and I loved the family I was born into. I had an elder sister who had a humongous friend circle that comprised only girls. I was extremely popular among them and the popularity grew evermore with age.

I think they liked me primarily because I was as plump as a plum cake. Girls love kids with chubby cheeks. Ironically, when those very kids reach adolescence, those very girls shy away from them unless they transform into a Greek God. 

My adolescence was more of a Greek tragedy, but let’s concentrate on happier memories. I felt like a demigod in their company. They’d pamper me with sweets and gifts, and with what I missed most during my adolescence — hugs and kisses.

I started spending more and more time with them. I stopped playing gilli-danda with boys to start skipping ropes with girls. I stopped watching cricket matches with boys and started watching Chitrahaar with girls. I stopped miming dialogues like “Mard ko dard nahi hota” and started muttering “Pushpa, I hate tears”. 

All this amused my parents in the beginning but as time flew, it alarmed them. These were not traits one looked for in a boy; these were girlie things. Boys fight, boys abuse, boys come home with injuries. I wasn’t showing any of these signs. Why? Because I was spending too much time in the company of girls. So they decided to set things right. 

One fine day, dad packed my bags and took me to the Himalayas – no, not to Mount Kailash where Lord Shiva resides but it was in that neighbourhood. He put me in a boarding school. 

I looked around me. There were only boys all around. That’s when it struck me: I was in a boys school. 

There were so many co-ed schools around; why put me in a boys school, I wondered. Why put me in a world without women? Because I was a boy and I was expected to hang out with boys, the norm said. And what was wrong with hanging out with girls? What was wrong with not getting into fights, hurling abuses or being injured? Most of the time, boys talked about girls. I’d found a better alternative — instead of talking about girls, I’d talk to girls.

That was a mistake. Patriarchy chose to rectify this error by oppressing the unorthodox method and company I’d chosen.

Despite all this, I must say that I did make some very good friends there. But they were just friends; not ‘just friends’ because when you go to a boarding school full of boys, you’ll find many Shivas but no Parvati... and no Sati.

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