That yellow Bus

I could have been on second standard [about seven years old], when I was selected to study in Kanti Ishwori Shishu Bidhylaya. This means, I was a bright child to get such seat, right ? This school owned by a member of a royal family. Its in her name as this school bears her name. Not surprisingly, they used to give some seats for the children of Bal Mandir; in this school. Then, I believe this school was in Tahachal area, now its in Tripureshwor, its management also has been changed. If my information is correct, Little Angel’s School has taken the management from the Royal Family. This was a primary school then [ late 70s perhaps ] all the royal children used to go to this school. My bother Sukdev Giri, who was a lot more brighter than me and who went to this school earlier than me, had a class mate like, late prince Dipendra Shah and Paras Shah and other whole bunch of royal children. The time is so much in his mind that he has names his first sons name Prafulla, who was his best friend in this school, whose full name , Prafulla SJB Rana, as he still remembers. Ulike him, I just cant remember, who were my class mates then. I guess; I was just too young, to remember their names and also to realise, that they were royals.

We all were required to have our meal by 8:00 am in the morning. The Yellow [small] Van came, perhaps around 8:30 to pick up us, who went to this school. There used to be around five or six children at a time in this school. Withing minutes of climbing this bus, it made me sick and then all the meal used to be on my small frock. As a grown up today I can understand it, if it made sick to all the small children inside the bus, but I was more sick than them.

Then, once I was in school, a lady [perhaps school maid] used to give me a fresh bath in front of a tube well. She used to pull the water and then I was given a fresh bath under the huge flow of water. How many classes I used to miss ? I cant remember. This whole trip lasted only for about a week and then again I was back in my old school.

All I remember is, I got this opportunity twice or may be thrice; damn my bad memory power; or may be, I was just too young to keep all the details in my head. Another things is that there is no one to cross check about it, as this matter makes more sense in my life than theirs, right ? But my vomiting on the bus just spoiled every thing. Even today, I am a car sick, specially when its run by diesel. The smell of it makes me more sick, than petrol run vehicles.

But what is even more worthwhile, for me to remember today is, none of those students; who went to such good schools, made them fluent in English. Sure enough, for some of the bright students, who got good beginnings, also got opportunities to go to a better school than I had gone, later on in my life. But that too did not give them the confidence enough, to have better life and job, in their life. Forget about good job and life, I can say this more confidently, that my English is a lot better than those, who went to all English medium school and rubbed shoulders with the Royal's children and the children of high society.

There are people, who do feel so inferior for going to unknown school, which has small class rooms and their friends are as poor as they are yet they seemed to add up, the inferior feelings in them. Its not that people did not make me feel the same way, when I was growing up. But hey, my plus point was, I was already in Bal Mandir and nothing worked against it. It seems that I had outgrown all kind of humiliation and insult and nasty comments and everything in between. In fact, we used to use one term while growing up in BM, every thing we hear used to go, “straight from one ear to another ear.” Nothing we did hold, in between it. It was a kind of mastering an art of hearing process and letting it go from another, directly.

When I see people, who went to ten times better school than me and went to a lot better college and yet are not doing that well in their life now, only reminds me of its not the kind of school that one attends and food that one eat and the dress they wear and the house they stay in. At the end of the day, what is inside one’s head, is what makes the whole difference. Perception is what one can not buy, and perception is what differentiate you and me.

Ever since, I was out from Bal Mandir, I am always mistaken from the people in my life; that I am from so privileged family back ground. I mean most of my life. And now you too know the real truth. Bernhard Rutz, should feel really proud of me, for he picking up not only all my college bills, but for all kinds of training I asked him I want to do. But still, there is one more truth in all this again........, I grew up in Bal Mandir.