I Grew Up In India So I Decided To Illustrate What Childhood Was Like There (28 Pics)

Growing up in a small town, away from the city madness, the options for fancy recreational activities were limited. We neither had access to the Appu Ghars, nor the Nicco Parks, nor the Water Kingdoms. We had to resort to all sorts of low-tech options, involving people and day-to-day items. One such activity was pretending to ride a parked scooter, wearing an over-sized helmet (dad’s), and legs dangling high up in the air. Remember all the original sounds we used to make, pretending to race through busy streets? My personal favorite was the sound of the horn, clear and loud enough to scare a buffalo!

Back in the 80’s and 90’s, communication device was a shared family asset. For those who didn’t have access to landline phones at home, STD-ISD-PCO-cum-Xerox centers came in handy. Remember that creaking sound of small bills being printed on tiny rolls of paper the moment you put down the receiver? We had a dial-pad landline phone at home. I thought this was pretty cool until I chanced upon a rotary-dial model at a neighbour’s place. It was love-at-first-sight! Now and then, I used to find excuses to go to uncle’s house to get a chance to play with those magical, rotary dials. Most of the time, the need to make calls from someone else’s phone was genuine. Occasionally, I used to cook up bogus excuses such as “Our landline is not working, have to call dad. Urgent”, which worked just fine. Instant access. I used to pretend to call a number, and then say “Line is busy” and leave. In doing so, I achieved the primary aim without any collateral damage. White lies. Sometimes, when uncle/aunty was busy with their chores, I used to do miniature role-plays, pretending to be a grown-up, and dealing with some stuff! Reminiscent of a by-gone era, these landline phones provided healthy exercise for the mind. Didn’t we all remember half of the numbers by heart? For everything else, there was that diary, which had all the numbers, written alphabetically. Any wrong entry, upon discovery, fetched much criticism and ridicule.

The arrival of mobile phones made many old devices unnecessary as everything became available on one device. The list is endless: calculators, maps, compasses, radios, clocks, books, and so on. One special device that's very dear to my heart has also gone missing. Good old magnifying glass. I remember using a magnifying glass for focussing the sun-rays to burn paper, dry leaves, and sometimes, insects. Is it the combined Karma of a lot of people (who have burned insects like me) that the global temperature is rising, and humanity might get burned to a crisp eventually?

Those were the moments of privilege when my grandfather insisted on taking me to the local market. First of all, I just loved the experience of sitting on a bicycle with a nylon bag in my hand, with a cool breeze brushing my face. Back then, we hardly came across polythene bags (Thank God!). Most importantly, I could sit with my eyes closed if someone else was riding. The most exciting part was to witness the hustle-bustle at the fish market. That entire setup was heavenly—such chaos, yet full of life! There was always a cat somewhere around—either observing from a distance or trying to seduce with the hope of getting some fish tit-bits. With elderly people around, even the fishmongers couldn't object to my exploratory activities.

When it comes to street foods, Kolkata arguably packs the meanest punch. No other city in India provides a wider variety of gastronomic wonders, right from ‘Jhalmuri,’ ‘Ghhoti groom,’ ‘Phuchka,’ ‘Aalu Kabli’ to ‘Mughlai Porota’ and ‘Chowmein.’ And of course, the legendary ‘Chop’ (Aalo / vegetable/mocha, etc.) and the ‘Beguni’ and the ‘Phuluri.’ 

However, my all-time favorite has always been the ‘Chicken Roll.’ Here’s the secret of the best Kolkata ‘Roll’: it has more to do with the outer, crispy coating (i.e. the ‘Porota’) than the content inside (meat, egg, onion, lemon juice, ketchup, etc.)

Can you guess the name of the no. 1 exercise to increase your height? I'll give you a hint: highly recommended by young and old alike. That's right. That's hanging from a pull-up bar. When I realized that Horlicks and Bournvitas (among the most horrible things I've ever gulped) were not doing their job, I had to resort to the ultimate savior. And it started to show the results for a while. Until lateral growth took over, and that's the rest of the story. I had to make peace with 5' 10.5".

How many of you played with millipede or centipede, the insect version of a “touch-me-not” plant? I sure did. Honestly, it was indeed fun. Upon application of external force (in this case, a slight nudge), to witness a crawling insect coil instantly into a button-like form was intriguing enough. The millipedes (the reddish ones) were much more appealing than the centipedes (the shiny, black ones), because of two reasons: firstly, these remained coiled for a longer duration, and secondly, looked far less intimidating. The black ones were stockier and far swifter and hence commanded a relatively higher degree of fear.

The forgotten art of catching dragonflies required synergy of three crucial elements: patience (to outdo the reflexes of an ever-vigilant insect), the perseverance of the highest order (to continue the pursuit after failed attempts), and stealth/ambush tactics (to get close enough to the subject without being detected to administer the "coup de grace".)

The trick was to grab it by its tail first. Once caught the insect tries to free itself by curling back and biting. That was the signal to slowly get hold of its body without damaging the precious wings. Once this was done, all the struggles of the insect to escape went in vain.