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ShareTales from the Locker Room
Modern society has flung quite a few horrors on modern man--the threat of a nuclear slam-bang, ethnic violence in every corner, the perceived threat of global warming and environmental disaster. Standing shoulder to shoulder with these modern menaces is one more contemporary horror--the school carpool.
I remember, exactly two years ago, when my wife explained this concept to me, and how every Monday it would be my turn to escort four, four-year-olds to school.
I reacted in my normal mature manner. First I cried, then rolled on the floor like a human carpet, and finally I tried to kill myself by swallowing a nimbu. (Of course, after 47 such attempts over the years, the only demise on every occasion was of the nimbu.)
Finally, I was strapped to the car seat and off I went to fetch and carry four children to school, with about as much knowledge as Columbus had when he set out to find India (and then thanks to his travel agent Raja tours, landed up in Barbados where he put up at a swanky hotel and consequently fathered nine children).
My first meeting with the four, luckily passed without any of them using me as a spittoon or a punching bag, though they offered me good money to bypass the school and head off to Metro theatre instead. May I add that I received some good education at Metro myself.
Every Monday morning was the same. After popping two Combiflam tablets and three Crocin pills plus six little homeopathic pills for anxiety, my son Mikhaail would lead me to the car. After about half an hour spent in deciding who'd be better off driving, he'd take to the wheel and we'd pick up Rayan.
Rayan, in turn would comfort me and motivate me to carry on and pick up Kabir, who would spend the first seven minutes in a tranquil haze.
In those seven minutes we would make a mad dash to school, before he woke up and destroyed us completely with enough energy to run three Third World countries. Lastly, Vihaan the philosopher would enter and we would discuss his two favourite subjects--cars and dogs or better still a dog in a car.
Last Monday was the last drop. My health has deteriorated, my hair has gone, my insides are churning but for some strange reason I'm already missing the Crocin.
