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WWHD (Jacob Kurien, Aug 10th, 2007) |
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Huckleberry Finn was a character that earned my respect in VIIth grade. This
kid had it all. Teamed with Tom Sawyer, the duo were relentless in wreaking
havoc and whipping up adventures like it grew in their backyards. Signing
oaths with blood, visiting a spooky graveyard in the dead of night, etc.
were common place for these lads. However, unlike Napolean, who had no clue
what fear was, these boys were intimately familiar with the paralyzing
effects of terror and trepidation. They didn't always overcome these
nerve-wracking situations by grabbing fear by the scruff of the neck but more
commonly with cowardice that surprisingly paid off. Reading Huckleberry
Finn's adventures in VIIth grade taught me that being yellow-bellied ain't a
bad thing at all.
I, along with a few classmates, were able to exercise that new-found
principle to good effect. It was one fine afternoon in class and the buzzer
announced the arrival of the most anticipated time slot of the day -
Recess. Most of the class emptied out in a hurry - some to catch a forward
position in the canteen queue, others to yield to the demands of nature and
yet others to release their youthful vigour in playground activities. For
some reason that evades my memory, a few of us decided to stay behind in
class. A handful of boys and improperly channeled energies are the perfect
ingredients to brew a recipe for an incident.
After having exhausted our interest in the barricading powers of the front
seats in the class, someone turned his attention to the door. At that age,
when ADD is all that pumps through your veins, the slightest distraction is
pounced upon and devoured with aplomb. So now all of us were focused on the
door and figuring how we could incorporate it into our playing arsenal. In a
pure moment of discovery, it dawned upon us that the door could behave very
much like a castle gate or a fortress drawbridge.
This basically translated
into the power to keep some individuals of the group outside, if
sufficient force could be leveraged from the inside. What better source of
brute force than to harness the unbridled strength and enthusiasm of a few
kids to whom adolescence was imploring fervently. This new form of
entertainment was splendid and ingenious until the realization spread among the ranks that
the once freely swinging piece of painted oak was now firmly wedged in its
frame.
The level of amusement sank faster than the demise of the Titanic in icy
waters. We officially had a problem. Our efforts shifted to trying to un-jam
the unyielding door. No go. It resisted from budging. A bunch of trembling
fingers were now in desperate attempt to get a grip on the edge of the door.
The effort wasn't paying off.
To make matters worse, recess was drawing to a close. Pretty soon a group of
returning students were flocked on the other side. The muffled sounds
revealed the general sense of confusion prevalent among them. The situation
transformed from one of desperation to one of despair when included among the sounds
coming from the other side was the distinct voice of Mr. Ansari. We
rapidly exchanged horrified glances and were starting to imagine the wrath
of Ansari descend on us. We were lost and our mental machinery seemed
incapacitated beyond recovery. And that’s when the Huckleberry approach sprung up. We needed an escape plan. WWHD - What would Huckleberry do?
When the divine shuts a door, he opens a window. Literally!! Our classroom
was on the ground floor with the windows facing the direction where the new
Jashanmal auditorium would rise in the future. And in an instant, we were
all making a beeline for the windows. There were a couple of girls (one of
them being Sindu K. Sunder) still in the classroom catching up on some
homework. They watched aghast, as a steady stream of rats started to flee
the room. One by one, we were all out.
With the air of freedom fresh in our lungs, we marched back to class. As we
approached the classroom, Abdullah (the ball guy) was exerting his mass
against the door with Ansari barking strategic instructions. After a few
heaves, the door flung open and we mingled with the rest of
the crowd to prevent betraying any guilt on our faces or in our body language.
All of us joined in on the chorus of jubilation. As we streamed into the
class, Ansari failed to spot a few demons disguised in angels clothing file
in as well. Our halos were chipped, but only just, and it went undetected.
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