The five things I would have done differently...

~ Ajay Chowdhary

The best way of exerting pressure is not to exert pressure, Kirti was clearly happy that I had volunteered to write something for Sandesh, she came back with a list of ideas that I could use to get started, followed up once, and then let go J If she had continued to follow up, I would have apologised and found an excuse – but when she didn’t, I felt that I had let her down. Strange are the ways that make the mind tick. So anyway, here is what I came up with – thank Kirti for this, otherwise you would have been deprived of this literary masterpiece :-D

Go on, read ahead…

The five things I would have done differently if I were to live my Modern days again

And if only I could find my way back to the time

When the problems of this life 

Had not yet crossed my mind 

And the answers could be found in children's nursery rhymes 

I'd come runnin' back to you 

I'd come runnin' back to you …

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers made these words famous, but none of us can deny that there is a little bit of a “what-if” hiding in all of us. However happy we are, there is a niggling thought at the back of our mind asking us how life would have been different if we had done something differently at some turn in life – what if I had taken that road and not this, what if I had acted a little differently, what if my approach towards life was not what it actually was, what if I had studied more, what if I had studied less, what if she had said yes, worse still, what if I had only asked – the list is endless, full of generalities and specifics, depending on how much you think back.

I took a trip down the “Modern” lane, and came up with these five top ticket “what-if” items – the things that I would do differently if only there was a second chance in life.

These appear in no logical or significance order, just drifting thoughts that come to mind when one goes back in time – 25 years is one heck of a long time…

1.     Not get a “zero” in maths: I’m the only one in my extended list of relatives and their relatives to have got a zilch in any subject in any class. I managed this stupendous feat in the pre-finals of my 11^th – DNK’s eyes must’ve popped out of his thick glasses when he was correcting my paper. I’m sure he went through it over and over again, just to find a reason to give me one puny little mark. But I was too good for him, it was a chanceless duck – no score. Not only that, when he couldn’t pass me in any of the re-tests, he gave me a past paper to take home and bring back for checking – my tutor passed that examination, and the rest, as they say, is history.

2.     Not slip out of the class when the teacher was sleeping: one of our teachers in Commerce, Mr. Asthana, was so damned good that he could recite notes in his sleep, which he often did while going through the basics of Company Law and such other interesting topics. Our class had a hand-cricket tournament that we completed during these engaging lectures. Half the class took turns in making their way out of the window when he was standing in the middle of the floor, eyes wide shut, and rattling notes for us to take down – I’m sure not a word out of place from the last year, and the year before that, and the years before that. He had no time for questions – he did not take kindly to being disturbed while asleep, you see. Anyway, I wish I had stuck on (at least on the days when I was not playing) in spite of my wastrel friends, who would take me out every day, if not to play, to umpire the clash of the titans on the (hand) cricket field. For the sake of officiating in the intra-class matches, I missed the entire series of the somnambulistic pedagogue – no wake-up calls there.

3.     Duck when I was slapped by the Principal: one fine day, after the morning assembly (when we were reminded by the Vice Principal of his photographic memory for the seven hundred and forty nineth time), I turn back from the water cooler and bump into – who else, but the Principal. “What class do you have?” came the gruff, taunting question. And as I fumbled for an answer (heck, how was I to answer when I hadn’t the foggiest?) I could see something whir past me from the corner of the eye and land on my left cheek – I think I heard the resounding cracker of the noise first (as I’m sure the whole school must have) before I could feel the sting – it still smarts. But anyway, what I would have done differently was to anticipate and take preventive action – Akram never gave Tendulkar a notice when he came up with one of his bouncers that rose from an uncomfortable length, one is supposed to take care of himself, I should have too.

4.     Not get caught after making optimal use of scarce resources: Juggi traced her family tree to a fierce warrior tribe – she would immediately launch into her war dance if one scored low in her Geography tests, and many stalwarts became a notch on her Smith and Wesson for doing this. With so many things to do at home (watching movies on the newly imported colour TV and VCR, for one), there was little time that one could devote to the exciting “Geogo” notes after getting rid of the routine household stuff (as the movie-at-command above). The only way out was creative thinking – the shorts that we wore were longer when we stood up, and much shorter when we sat down (obviously, you would say, but look at the opportunity). If you wrote something on your thighs (geogo bullet points, for example), you could have a ‘walking’ notebook full of helpful hints that no-one could see when you got up, but you had access to when you ‘sat’ for the test. While this worked in school, one must also remember to rub it off when one reaches home (take a bath, you fool, I was always told) – I should have remembered – my folks gave me hell that evening…

5.     Make proper use of technology: from the town that I came, phones were still a rarity – you were lucky if you got one within 10 years of applying. We got one just as I was leaving for school, which was not soon enough for telephone usage to be a part of my upbringing. I knew one had to pick up the receiver, dial a number, wait for someone to respond, and then say something – what and how, was something I was not taught. Anyway, with this handicap, I managed to get the phone number for someone that I really liked. Not enough courage to say anything to her in the school, I decided to call her up instead. Phones are strange machines, they are earthly carriers of some extra-terrestrial, damaging, paralysing disorder – my heart would beat as if the phone receiver was designed to suck it out of my body, the lump in my throat would become bigger with every digit that I dialled – the damned Delhi numbers had seven digits – too many for my ever-growing lump in the throat. Once, I did get through – the mother answered, making it clear that she does not encourage such intrusions in her daughter’s privacy. Once if did get through to the daughter – after some moments of brain racking she did recognise me – all that I could ask was if she was prepared for the forthcoming tests (they were all of two months away). That was the end of my forays into the world of technology.

But seriously, the biggest remorse is that I did not make more friends. All these MHS84 names that keep cropping up in my inbox are familiar, but none that I can pick up the phone and call, and none that will shout with glee and give me a high-five when they see me after 25 years. I didn’t make strong relationships with folks, and didn’t keep in touch with those that I did. I was warped in my own world, my group of people, my table-tennis (in the stable-like structure (yeah, yeah, they called it the gym) as you enter the main gate), my hand cricket in the lawns behind SSS block, and that’s pretty much it. A waste of time I call it, there was a veritable ocean of people – and most of them would have been fine dudes (and dudies, or did I hear someone say dudettes – but we already know where I stood on that front) but I was too hesitant to strike a conversation with them. I came from a modest background, and I always felt that that was a barrier in making friends with most of the folks that did not – stupid of me, but there it is.

Wonder if there are second chances in life…