I think it was 25 years ago that I discovered for the first time the joy of carrying a bag to school. I was convinced that I deserve one because I was joining in class 6 and was to go to high school. No more half broken black slate and dog eared mathematics table book. I thought now I must carry nice smelling glossy paged text books. One for each subject. note books , geometry box etc.
After three days rehearsal, I murmured to my father as he was about to leave for office “I want a school bag “
“What for?”
“To carry books”
“Then you need a bag, not a school bag.”
“ No I want a school bag. That Tahasildar’s son brings a school bag,”
I protested. I could not make him understand the difference between a bag and a school bag, and why I wanted one.
“He is a tahasildar’s son,” he said simply and started to his office.
I could not understand the logic. I went in to the kitchen and asked my mother, and started explaining why I needed a school bag. Tentatively it was agreed that for the time being I shall use the bag hanging from the nail on the wall in the kitchen.
It was an over sized khaki colored bag with disproportionately small handles crudely embroidered on one side Hare Rama Hare Krishna , exhibiting my fathers devotion to god and a rising Sun with all his rays ,small and big on the other side.
My mother taught me how to carry it. Insert my arm through the handles of the bag up to my shoulders and tuck the bag under my arm pit.
I liked it in spite of the inconvenience. It was so long it touched my calves. I could not run with my bag when I was late to school. It used to dangle from my shoulders like the hard, heavy stick our milk man used to tie to his cow’s neck to prevent it from bolting.
But the home grown contraption had its uses.
I could carry many things other than just the books, like unripe mangoes and curious looking objects .And in class I could take out the books and spread the bag on the ground, and use it like a mat to sit on the bare earth.
In the evenings my dear little school bag used to serve different purposes; to bring the groceries from the store at the street corner. I could stuff all the provisions required for the coming month and carry them home.
On ration day it could carry provisions like rice , wheat and sugar. If the shop hadn’t opened yet ,the bag used to represent our whole family in the queue (other families used oil cans, kerosene tins and stones )while I played in the street.
On Sundays my school bag transformed itself in to a vegetable bag carrying green leaves, potatoes bananas etc.
Everything went well till my mathematics teacher discovered sugar in some pages , rice in others for which misdemeanor I had either to go out of the class or stand up on the bench. I preferred the former indignity.
After that I tried to refuse to lend my school bag for other purposes. It was not successful. Then again my mother came to my rescue. and gave me a brilliant idea.: turn the bag inside out while using it for shopping !
It worked well.
Nobody found any other use for my school bag for many days. The bag used to play limited roles. Only when the summer holidays began when I had to go to my uncle’s place, did it changed its role and it became “the travel bag” All my clothes were stuffed in to it making it bulge in to an odd shape. The only problem was that I had to carry it with both my hands. No more could I tuck it under my arm.
Now a days I see my children carrying school bags with many compartments, one for the pencils, one for the books, one for the lunch box and so on and slings to hang where ever you want.
Now we have separate shopping bags for my wife for the vegetables one more bag for the provisions. And you cannot imagine carrying clothes in any of them For that only acrylic molded luggage will do.
I pity my children for what they are missing.
17 th November 1991
published in Indian Express (Sunday edition )
After three days rehearsal, I murmured to my father as he was about to leave for office “I want a school bag “
“What for?”
“To carry books”
“Then you need a bag, not a school bag.”
“ No I want a school bag. That Tahasildar’s son brings a school bag,”
I protested. I could not make him understand the difference between a bag and a school bag, and why I wanted one.
“He is a tahasildar’s son,” he said simply and started to his office.
I could not understand the logic. I went in to the kitchen and asked my mother, and started explaining why I needed a school bag. Tentatively it was agreed that for the time being I shall use the bag hanging from the nail on the wall in the kitchen.
It was an over sized khaki colored bag with disproportionately small handles crudely embroidered on one side Hare Rama Hare Krishna , exhibiting my fathers devotion to god and a rising Sun with all his rays ,small and big on the other side.
My mother taught me how to carry it. Insert my arm through the handles of the bag up to my shoulders and tuck the bag under my arm pit.
I liked it in spite of the inconvenience. It was so long it touched my calves. I could not run with my bag when I was late to school. It used to dangle from my shoulders like the hard, heavy stick our milk man used to tie to his cow’s neck to prevent it from bolting.
But the home grown contraption had its uses.
I could carry many things other than just the books, like unripe mangoes and curious looking objects .And in class I could take out the books and spread the bag on the ground, and use it like a mat to sit on the bare earth.
In the evenings my dear little school bag used to serve different purposes; to bring the groceries from the store at the street corner. I could stuff all the provisions required for the coming month and carry them home.
On ration day it could carry provisions like rice , wheat and sugar. If the shop hadn’t opened yet ,the bag used to represent our whole family in the queue (other families used oil cans, kerosene tins and stones )while I played in the street.
On Sundays my school bag transformed itself in to a vegetable bag carrying green leaves, potatoes bananas etc.
Everything went well till my mathematics teacher discovered sugar in some pages , rice in others for which misdemeanor I had either to go out of the class or stand up on the bench. I preferred the former indignity.
After that I tried to refuse to lend my school bag for other purposes. It was not successful. Then again my mother came to my rescue. and gave me a brilliant idea.: turn the bag inside out while using it for shopping !
It worked well.
Nobody found any other use for my school bag for many days. The bag used to play limited roles. Only when the summer holidays began when I had to go to my uncle’s place, did it changed its role and it became “the travel bag” All my clothes were stuffed in to it making it bulge in to an odd shape. The only problem was that I had to carry it with both my hands. No more could I tuck it under my arm.
Now a days I see my children carrying school bags with many compartments, one for the pencils, one for the books, one for the lunch box and so on and slings to hang where ever you want.
Now we have separate shopping bags for my wife for the vegetables one more bag for the provisions. And you cannot imagine carrying clothes in any of them For that only acrylic molded luggage will do.
I pity my children for what they are missing.
17 th November 1991
published in Indian Express (Sunday edition )
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