‘Cheens’ – does this sound familiar??
Is this the name of that exotic island in the Bahamas which you have wanted to go honeymooning?
Or is it the new fashion line which created waves at the Lakme Fashion Week last fall?
Hey, is this the just released bollywood blockbuster featuring all the biggies?
Am I talking of some extinct wildlife here?
Is this the recently launched international fragrance?
Now take off your thinking hats because it’s none of the above and neither is it anything close to your imagination. It is something my life is coupled with. Cheens is my closest friend. Please stop wondering that it’s quite weird a name coz that’s what we call her affectionately and unofficially she is popular by this name. May be you wouldn’t have figured it out anyways, unless you know her personally!!
So pick up your pajamas, put on your sneakers when I take you on a run, the destination being placed at not some yards ahead but some years back. Backdrop of a small town (some where in AP), the story goes about my darling Cheens when she was in the nucleus of her kiddish days. Those were the days when she hardly knew even the subtle difference between the right and wrong. She was all but a doll of wax, which could melt at the slightest heat of any desire. For her, the world was limited to herself, her house, her dolls, playmates and her play area. Anything beyond this margin was out of scope of this naïve little creature. Like Krishna is to his gopis, Saroj Khan is to dhak-dhak karne laga, sexy legs are to Vijay Mallya, all but her friends were to our tiny Cheens. Be it mother’s squabbles, dad’s tiffs or old granny’s spankings, our little maestro was heroic and passionate enough about her playful life to give up on her world of fantasies, which was created & recreated according to the supra architect – our own Cheens.
If we think hard, we would realize how much similar were our mindsets when we were in the same stage of life years back. No worries of tomorrow, no tensions for life, no calculations for debits and credits, no woes & no morose feelings, love is all that these little angels know about.
As usual without any botheration to what the world is doing, our charismatic kiddo is all happy and in gay spirits with her gang of cute monsters (Now let’s not argue how they can be cute and monstrous at the same time).
This particular day of which I am speaking of, was the day to play with clay and water, yes that was the deal of the day, to show up the artistic skills to the extent one could. And the kids started mixing water to make a somewhat paste kind of a substance. Each one of them was set to become the next genius artisan in his/her own sense, where some one is busy making a house of his dreams when the other is doing the wings of her favorite bird she can fly away with, while one of them is confused on if he ended up making a football or a basketball (how does it matter anyways as long as both are round in shape??). Someone somewhere is trying to give shape to his car, if you may call it so, and some one else is all done with what you may presume to be a doll. But here is our champ trying to make what you may say is a plate, may be not too much elaborate with designs and colours, but yes you read it right, she was all engrossed is making her own plate. Why a plate and not something to play with (like the others kids on the block) – that’s a difficult one for me to decipher (till date even she stands clueless on this), as the thought process of a kid is deeper than the deepest ocean, full of sudden surprises.
All are now done with their lovely creations and now they are sun bathing with respective new born acquisitions so that those things made out clay can dry up and gather all ionic, atomic (whatever) kind of energy to sustain itself for some days. Not sure if they thought that this doll, house, ball, bird would stay with them forever, but the best part is that they wanted to put in their best efforts so that they lasted longer than they actually could. April noon sun did not dampen the spirits of these kids and they remained intact with their possessions for it to dry and get stronger with each passing minute. Evening comes and time to get back home after a full day of play outside.
Giggly and joyous our baby gal is hopping yet careful with her not so light clay-plate in hands and approaching home where she is being awaited eagerly by mummy dearest coz of her absence the whole day. Nothing bothers her and her joy now knows no bounds as she feels that she possesses something she created herself. The glare of satisfaction is all evident on her face as she knocks on the door. Worried and anxious mother wraps her in arms and without much ado directs her to cleanse herself and get on to the table for the skipped afternoon lunch at sunset, which conveniently had been forgotten in the extreme playful and busy mood of ''claying extravaganza'' (that’s what I would call it).
Mummy arrives with plateful of rice, curry and other delicacies, but is startled when she sees Cheens happily waiting on the dining table with what looks like a plate made of red clay. Mummy was surprised as what that dirty thing was doing on the table. Unable to bear the stings of Mummy’s stare Cheens speaks up and tells mommy that she would eat on her new plate, made by her, which was cleaned, dried and ready for use. No matter how much mummy explains that it’s not clean and would have dirt in it and it will get muddy once food is put on it, the innocence in Cheens denied understanding. So strong was her conviction which went into making the plate that she could not accept that it was unhygienic eating on it, forget that she would have accepted that it would break and get soiled after usage. After all she had sweated hours together making it. Convincing with any analogy did not budge her and she remained adamant that if she ate, it would only be on her plate. Her point of argument remained that everyday if she could eat on a steel plate bought from somewhere she doesn’t even know, why not eat on a plate she so meticulously and painstakingly has created.
Every sunrise has a sunset, so the climax to this whole episode came when a tight slap landed on the cheeks which instantly turned apple red. Tears trickled down and slowly the little feet descended from the chairs and headed to the bedroom, and of course the empty clay plate stayed in her hands.
For Cheens, It wasn’t the fear of eating on a soiled or dirty plate; it was more about trust that was instilled in her heart that nothing would wrong when she has put in so much of true love and effort in making the plate. It was that little child’s passion which came into her at such a young stage, which made her not to give up on something which was so much her own, till the very last moment, even if it meant a punishment or no food.
Empty stomach, heavy heart, bloody eyes, inability to accept and understand crude reality and such innocence – that’s how the day ended!!
Disclaimer : Now please stop thinking that this one’s a replica of some Swami story from Malgudi Day’s as this one’s oven fresh from the memory lanes of Cheens and of course beautifully (at least I have tried to) penned down by me.
