Primary/Elementary School in KGF (Kolar Gold Fields - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kolar_Gold_Fields) was a hop, step and jump away from home...literally. The terrain in a section of open land on the way to school was a collection of thousands of small excavations in the ground (about three feet in diameter and up to two feet in depth). I have never seen anything like that again in my life and have no idea of how they were created in the first place...may have something to do with gold deposits. These excavations would almost always be filled with rain water, and that added to the fun in many ways. A bunch of us walked to school each day and this section was cool...we would race each other for about half a kilometer across the section, hop, step and jump. It was like an obstacle course and one wrong step could land you inside one of these mini-pools of water- not that we cared much about getting all wet and slushy!
The mini-pools had another cool thing about them; they were a habitat for crabs, frogs and tadpoles. Each of us had small bottles hidden deep inside our school bags with our precious collections of small baby crabs and tadpoles. These were very prized possessions, something to live and die for. We would trade in these valuables, barter them for other cool stuff, borrow and loan them for a few days and of course fight over them sometimes. That brings me to my story - My tadpole.
I had loaned a tadpole to a friend in the morning and the arrangement was that he would return it to me during lunch recess. When he did not show up for lunch under our favorite tree, I smelt a rat - no a tadpole. I set out to investigate and it did not long to find out, there was chatter in the school that my friend had accidentally broken the bottle and my most valuable possession had died. I was livid with anger, I had to find him and get my tadpole back - alive. I spotted him, near the volley ball court, I was running now, my anger was running faster, my heartbeat even faster. All three of us - me, my anger and my heart beat flung our selves at him in unison and brought him down. I think he was prepared and broke from our tackle in a flash. The volley ball game stopped. The real match was off-court. A circle of guys formed around us as we both took our stance to have another go at each other. And then the bell rang...lunch recess was over. The matter had not been settled...so it was decided that the epic battle would resume again after school near our obstacle course. The chatter was all over, from class room to class room it spread like wildfire....like twitter - only 35 years before twitter was born, but as effective.
When the bell rang at 3:30 there was a rush to the area behind school, must have been about two hundred kids that showed up and quickly formed a circle around the two of us, there were supporters for both of us, and they were loud. It was Showtime, the showdown between two best friends over a tadpole (dead) was about to begin, the cheering grew louder and carried into the distance. Both of us took our positions on the center and glared at each other, no words were exchanged, they were not necessary; this had to be settled physically. We flung ourselves at each other boxing, kicking and wrestling at the same time. With each punch and kick the roar of the onlookers also grew, it had been a long three hour wait from lunch to end of school, the crowds were impatient and finally the show was in full swing. We were quite evenly matched, after ten minutes and several cuts and bruises, there was no clear winner. The intensity of the fight and the roar of the crowds went up collectively, and then something happened....the crowds became silent, there was a hush. The only sound was the two of us at each others necks on the ground. We were oblivious, and kept wrestling. It was after some time we realized that there was something amiss, we stopped and looked up. The circle of onlookers was still there but they had formed a circle at some distance from us and were strangely quiet, they were not cheering.
We stood up and went over to the new show in town. We cautiously peered over the heads of the crowd; one of the kids was being beaten black and blue by his mom. Everybody watched in silence. This family used to live nearby and when the mom heard the huge roars during our fight, she grew suspicious that her son was somehow involved in the action. She was right, when he got there, she found her son cheering wildly. Go Manbir go, give it to him, he killed your tadpole, give it to him. The poor kid was getting the pelting of his life in front of all his school buddies. His mother suddenly stopped, she realized that the attention of everyone had shifted to her and her kid. She looked around the circle of kids and then screamed, go home all of you or each of you will be next! That did it, two hundred kids broke away and were off in a jiffy across the obstacle course, some were adept and some not ... Hop step and jump!. The two of us stopped to pick up our school bags before we could set off, but those few seconds were good enough for the lady to get to us. She towered over us, stick in hand and glaring. Showtime again! We hopped and jumped but could not get away from the stick! After a few whacks, she stopped, got us to shake hands, apologize to each other and make up and sent us on our way home.
Hop step and jump. I had lost my tadpole, but I still have my friend.
