My stories- My First toy car

a writing by Satheesan Rangorath

My First toy car
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One day I found a girl playing in the courtyard. She was holding a skipping rope.
She was skipping fast, then faster and faster. I watched her with awe, because I never had seen a girl playing with a skipping rope. While she was jumping in rhythm, I could hear a hum from the rope .The girl was thin in body frame and was wearing a polka dotted gown her hair was bobbed and was shaking every jump she took with the rope.
It was very amusing to watch her. Her hairstyle was peculiar as her thick black hair was looking like a hand fan tied to back of her neck. To my surprise, she was looking at me too. Soon another girl joined she must be her elder sister as she too was keeping the same hairstyle and same type of dress. After putting, some air about skipping game both of them came to me with a hand of friendship and asked me to join. I was very shy to join them with my peculiar attire. Finding my dress, they started to giggle. Nevertheless, at last, we broke the ice and I joined the skipping race. I think I beat them with high points. We became fast friends. That night I made my representation to my mother for trousers. Next week I got a pair of Khaki trousers, the colour I did not like, but I had to accept it under the circumstances. I felt timid to go before the girls as there were far fashionable than me. I learned their name as Bharathi, elder girl and Bhargavi the younger girl. We became fast friends despite of my country looks.

That night I started reading my lessons loudly so that girls next door would listen. I hope to make an impression among them so that I would be having the upper hands because of my literacy, which is absent among them, as they have not yet started schooling. Although, they are elder to me. In those days, girls did not have much schooling. Basic skills in reading writing and arithmetic for the day today affairs were considered enough for the girls. I also started getting up early in the mornings too for my lessons and made everybody get up early by reading my lessons loudly. My idea for making an impression among neighbor hood worked well. Next day the women and my girl friends enquired and wondered about my reading skills. My father was happy too.

After the rainy season, I was supposed to start schooling. One day my father brought one tailor. He took some measurements of me and went away with some clothes that my father gave. After two days, he brought a pair of trousers and shirt for me, although
my measurement was taken the stitched shirts and trousers were very loose and would have lasted for years to come. However, I decided to make use of the best that was available. In addition, my previous experience had taught me a lesson...

During this period, I got my first toy car and a pair of shoes. One day during one of my rare outings with my father, he took me to a teashop and bought a cup of tea and a bun. After having our refreshments, he took me to a grocery cum stationery shop. There the shopkeeper tempted my father to buy a toy car for me. My father rightly agreed and I got a car. It was a green car having a hook to tie a rope. It was my first car. However, I could never play with it as my younger sister took over control of it by influencing my father. He asked me to give the toy to my sister, as I am older to her. There goes my dream shattered. After a week, I found my car dismantled. Its body was separated. Wheels removed. Nothing was remaining in that car except its top. However, I shelved it and hidden under my junk box. I had kept that for a number of years, even during my college days I used to look at my first car with such respect. Along with my toy car, I got another precious gift, my first and last boot from my father. As he never had purchased another shoe or slippers for me after wards. I was bare footed right from my school to the final year of my college. My grandma, who was gracious enough to let me have some luxury, bought a first whole slipper for me. I will tell those stories later.

Story of my boot goes in a pathetic way. When I was about to join the school, I was taken to a cobbler, who took measurement of my feet by placing my feet on a white paper and making out my foot print by a pencil.. After two weeks, my father brought my boots
Which had a flap at front and straps to tie on my heels. It was made up of some rough leather. I was very happy to see it and smelled it as I took it out to wear. My happiness did not last for long. I wore it for a complete day, with out socks. The roughness of leather made my feet sore. Later in the evening when I removed it, I found my both foot having a soft bubble where I tied the booth strap. Next day it was very painful and I was in bed with a fever. The wound was pricking me severely. In those days, it was not easy to see a doctor and dress the wound. My mother gave me some home made concoction and dressed the wound with coffee powder, sugar and turmeric powder. I could not use the shoe for a long time until the wound healed. By the time it healed, I lost interest in my boot. I shelved that also into oblivion.

After some years when I was studying in seventh standard, I found my boot in my junk box, fished it out and wore it. It needed a polish. Therefore, there was no provision for polishing the Shoe. An idea struck me instantly. I bought some asphalt from the road side, melted it and painted my shoe. It was a marvelous idea. I congratulated my self for it. My shoe got a afresh life, and brought it to service. It lasted more than two years before I threw it away as it was beyond recognition and un-mend able. Hereafter, I never had the luxury of a shoe until I earned my own salary.. My story will not be complete if I do not write another shoe story in the next blog. Until then.
By SATHEESAN RANGORATH




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