Being a second child is a good and a bad thing. The good thing is that for few initial years of growing up the responsibilities in life are less compared to your older sibling. You get to be the talked about new thing when you are born (the honey moon period). But as life goes on you get to wear the old clothes used by your older sibling, you asked to be quiet when elders are talking, get stuck in the old school / college when your elder ones move the new ones.
But my life as a second child wasn't in either one of the above categories. I was considered the intelligent child in my family or 3 which included my mom, my elder brother and me. For some reason concepts appeared (still appear) easy to me and I'm eager to learn new things. If something is not challenging then it becomes boring to me. Today my mother is coming to visit my principal because she's been asked to come.
My mom, she's a hustler. She was married to my dad for just 9 years before losing him to illness. From then on she had to hustle more than ever. Get's up at 4-5am everyday, does her prayers, cooks breakfast and lunch, nags us to wake-up and do our daily chores and get ready to school. Then she herself goes to work as an English Teacher in a school few stops away. She then comes back from work with daily groceries and does cooking. Some days she asks about school and helps my brother with his homework. Then she does her preparations for work, washes dishes, does laundry, family prayer and by the time she sleeps it's around 10-11pm with lights on most days. I need to have the lights on because I'm scared of darkness. But I can't have light turned on in my room so I have the light in her room on. I don't know when it goes back dark because I'd be asleep the moment I'm in bed and sometimes even on my way to bed.
Between all these hustle, she has been called to meet my principal. So after my classes I'm waiting in the empty classroom with my shirt out and trousers rubbed with dirt. I might have been swimming in a desk or may be in the floor, God knows. Then I see the school gate being opened and my mom walks in with her handbag and a bag or groceries in her hand. I stop what I was doing and grab my backpack which is heavy and run towards her. She's doesn't smile but holds my hand and we both reach the office room.
My Principal, a gritty lady I should say is a friend of my mom. I was moved to this school after my dad passed away. I have been always looked after with special care. But now she smiles at her and points her finger at the flag post. I was wondering what's in the flag post, because it's not a Monday when the national flag gets hoisted up and then hoisted down later in the evening. But the speed in which I looked up the flag post was slower than the speed in which I looked down. My heart starts pounding hard as I see a big dried walnut leaf hoisted up in the flag post.
I had been hoisting a new dry walnut leaf to the empty flag post all week, but everyday when I comeback in the morning it would be missing. Now I quickly understood that it was my principal who was hoisting down the leaf everyday after I left home. Today as I write this I don't exactly remember what my mom and my principal were talking about me that day, they both were not angry but were smiling at me. My mom who gets angry fast was also not in a mood to ask me any questions. I wasn't just any other 2nd child but the naughtier one who tries to go under the radar to get the good boy image after doing some silly things.
The story you read about me is being written when I'm 33, married to a wonderful woman who herself is a 2nd child. We have a son and I must not be amused or angered when my son does something like this.
A Day in 1990's
Nagercoil, India
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