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| Jun 07, 2009 5:51 am |
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Much heat is still on |
SOEB FATEHI
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the game can have any number of players . . . one day i shall ask my mentor to teach you the game . . . . when we played the game at Chinchpokli station on platform number 1 we had some regulars . . . one girl spoke Tamil accented colloquial Marathi and we also had one Bihari lad who later went back to his gaon after fighting with his daddy to become a minister or something big big like that only . . . there also was a pair of twins, originally from a hamlet near Guntur, who picked garbage and collected empty cigarette packs to recover the metal foil that they sold to a local Marwadi resmelter . . . . incidentally that Marwadi's son sometimes joined us for a game or two and he was very humble and never showed off that his daddy owned nothing and borrowed money to pay rent for the shop and borrowed money to buy scrap and borrowed money to give loans to poor people and earned high interest from them that helped him to pay low interest on the monies he borrowed from a local community cooperative bank where his brother-in-law was a trustee . . . . . ah! there was one more little girl who always cried when she lost and her mother always reminded her that she must not cry just as Kasturba Gandhi, who was also from their native place called Porbandar, never cried . . . . i recall that the mother of the cigarette packet collector from Guntur always told the boy to learn to sing on the local trains to better his lifestyle and cited the example of the singer daughter of the great Aghoranath Chattopadhyaya, scientist and philosopher who was the founder of the Nizam College, forgetting that the professor though in Hyderabad was originally a Bengali . . . . sigh! i always cry when i remember those beautiful days we spent playng KOIBA!
Private Reply to SOEB FATEHI (new win) |
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