In the '60s, my younger brother had just joined the first standard at school. Somehow, my parents had got him a pair of pants in royal blue cotton. My brother and I studied at a school where our father was the headmaster. One day, the PTI told my sibling that the colour of his pyjamas was fit for girls and not for boys. That was an insult to the young man of six.
The boy came home and complained to his mother about the wrong choice of cloth. She told him that it was the colour that both boys and girls of his age could wear. The boy was not convinced. Mother asked him to forget about it. He insisted that the PTI would punish him. She insisted that his father was the headmaster and the PTI was his junior, so there was no reason for the boy to be afraid of punishment.
The next day the teacher again played the prank and asked why he had turned up in the wrong colour. The boy was in high spirits. He confronted the teacher, “Why do you say so? Aren’t you afraid of my father?” The teacher asked, ”Why should I be?” The boy quipped innocently, “My mother said so!” The cat was out of the bag. There were giggles all around.
Later, in 1963. We shifted to a new station and I had joined the eighth standard in the school, where my father, once again, was the headmaster. The local MLA, trusting my father’s reputation as a good disciplinarian, put his son in our school in the same class. Both of us felt important for different reasons.
On a couple of occasions, I was made to stand up for ten minutes for not wearing the prescribed uniform. My VIP friend asked me the reason for such default and I confided in him that father had never cared to get me a uniform. He commented, “That is very stingy on your father’s part.” I had to pocket the unpalatable comment.
Only a few days later, as during a period for physical education, we were told to play a game of Kabaddi, I noticed that my VIP friend’s vest had a dozen small holes. This was my chance for a payback. I asked him how an MLA’s son could be so poorly clad. He told me in a hushed tone, “Yaar, my father is also mean and stingy like yours.” His reply left me silent and satisfied but then I realised that he had defended himself without taking back his earlier negative comment for the headmaster. It left both of us laughing no end!