Saturdays was
the day for Sophian Boarders of the famous school Sophia Girl's school in Meerut Chhavni. That was the day for our weekly walks. These were
pure walks, over the Begum Pul and into the Cantt area in Meerut. Everybody had
to get into a line in twos and with partners, little ones in front and big
girls in the back. There were arguments as to who would lead because if the
leaders turned a certain corner or went down a certain curvy path, all of us
were supposed to follow regardless of where the path led. Such was the
frivolous nature of the ones who led and ones who were led. Sigh. Sometimes we
stopped at old churches in meerut, UP and other times at parks, the latter always full of trees and flowers,
some surviving swings but nonetheless with lots of beehives.
We had been
warned of bees and wasps and many such stinging creatures. We were specifically
told not to throw rocks into trees. Girls did not throw rocks! Well even if we
were cognizant of such warnings, the brood of boys in the park and ones who
followed us on their bicycles, at a safe distance, were not. Up in the trees
hung many beehives and wasp nests. We couldn’t get honey but surely we could
dislodge those bees. What did we know about the loves and hates of bees and
wasps and more so of their stings?
While some of us
played on the swings like good schoolgirls, others got into an ego game with
the boys; who could throw those rocks higher and straighter into the beehives
and wasp nests? Any time egos get involved, mayhem results and so as soon as
some lucky rocks or unlucky ones hit the beehives, some buzzing was heard which
soon grew to a loud noise and then into a thunderous one with hundreds and
thousands of bees and wasps as they all descended on us in a great deluge. Surely
this was ‘pralaya’.
If Sophian
Boarders and its Nuns had not seen fear, here it was in its pure form. Girls
scattered, girls fell, girls screamed, girls howled. Those who were stupid enough
to stand and laugh, the ones who are called spectators - did not survive the
onslaught at all. They got stung just the same albeit a few seconds later.
That’s why poets warned us ‘don’t stand and stare’. Somebody lit a fire to the many
piles of dried leaves. It was hard to tell - which was better or worse – smoke
stinging our eyes and blackening our lungs or bees stinging us?
Nuns flew, as
did the girls, as did the boys, as did everybody else. Some remembered to curl
up, some rolled around on the ground and others just ran round and round the
park, got dizzy and fell down. With nothing to pursue, bees must have halted
their pursuit as well. I do not know the minds of bees. Finally, the drama
ended mainly because the bees were dead and I suppose there was nothing left to
sting. All those who could have been stung, were stung. The bees had their fill
and had died protecting their honey and territory. A lot of us looked puffy and
bloated. Did we walk back in that state or were we carried back; maybe the
Sophia Boarding Van ‘Nirmala’ picked us up - I don’t remember. Anything was
possible in Sophia Boarding, Meerut with those Nuns!
