Wanted: The key of Tortoise

♪♪♫♪♫♫ Disco Baby….♪♪♪♪♪♪
♪♪♫♪♫♫ Disco Baby….♪♪♪♪♪♪ Music filled my school ground and started overflowing to the nearby houses, compounds, hostel and monastery. The metallic, bell shaped speakers, two each at opposite corners of the ground, discharged their best to embellish, the rarest of the rare occasion.
That was our sports day.
The much awaited event of the year, in fact every year, “Annual Sports Day”.
Standard 400 metre tacks were marked with lime, surrounding the ground. Turfs for hurling items like shot put etc were set inside the lap. Do not forget the long jump pit. These things made the ground look much better, even though grass was only a small patch.
Francis baby, our Malayalam master lingered around the podium set to honour the winners, beside which were the flag posts, the tallest one which had our school flag unhoisted, and four minor poles bearing the flags of four houses set among children to boost the spirit. All these looked majestic to my young eyes.
As in every other year, the DySP of Pala hoisted the school flag and shot a round to the sky to mark the inauguration. We really lacked a band to play and parade the ground.
The events started and our sports teacher Mr. K C Sunny seemed the busiest man in that part of the world.
I had nothing to do. I do not participate in any of the items like most of the other people. But cricket matches were going on parallel wherever a straight stretch of minimum 5 metres were available. The petty shops at the foothill had a good time selling rubber balls and soda-limes. Me just watched around and moved over till I noticed worry in this guy’s face.

* * *

Once upon a time, the state government used to declare holiday for schools when there was a private bus strike. Bus operators often found enough reasons to go on strike and we were the happiest lot on the face of the earth. But the fortune didn’t last long. The government changed and they stopped the practice of declaring holidays. We had to struggle hard to get in to government buses and head to school. Classes were regular, but our kind hearted principal Fr. Clerus dispersed the classes half an hour earlier. He had to repent on this decision as it was a huge task for the BIG old man to patrol the school compound with a yard long cane to break up the cricket players and drive them home. From next day onwards an announcement adjoined the evening prayers telling us to head home immediately. We obliged as we knew the consequences would be dire otherwise.

Some guys were smarter and bigger than most of us and they used to pedal their way from home during the bus strikes. Praveen was one among them. From times immemorial, he was always very smart and brave. During these days he pedalled his way from Mutholy to school just like a brave man.

Obviously, Fr. Clerus was clever, but his students were even better. At least some of them were. Praveen was one. They used to ride around after the lunch during the break. The best thing was to take laps in the concreted, mortar paved basketball court. There were many guys in the court but the centre of attraction was Praveen. I was standing nearby to watch the super performances. I didn’t learn riding yet, but these smart kids were well ahead.
Then Pankaj was coming in with his Hercules champion. This was a bigger one with 26 inch diameter wheels while Praveen’s BSA had only 24 inch wheels. Pankaj was from my place and two years senior. He beheld the scene and told me “You just wait, I’ll show you something”. I expected he will have some ace up his sleeve, but I was wrong. He slowly pedalled to the basket ball court in the opposite direction of our man Praveen.
Praveen was approaching the South West corner of the court, where the big, leafy shady tree which blossoms every year had shed leaves abundantly. Seeing Pankaj approaching from the opposite side, our hero panicked and started to wobble. He continued like that for may be two more meters and fell down to the left side, landing on his knee. But he show didn’t stop. He slipped over the wet leaves with concrete beneath for around five meters. I was seeing a cycle crash before my eyes for the first time!!! (This was very simple when compared to the ones I had later).
Pankaj braked and watched in bewilderment. Praveen stood up to reveal a white patch on the left elbow and a neat hole on the left knee as big as a rupee hole.

What I appreciate in Praveen is his presence of mind.

The first thing after he stood up was to pick up the BSA and come to me pushing it alongside and tell me “ I am going to tell at my home that I fell down while playing football. You should not say anything else”. I nodded and by that time the bell rang for the class.

Later in the evening, Pankaj told me he never expected this guy to fall down!!!!

* * *
On this day I am seeing the very same panic which I had seen plenty of times.
Something is amiss for sure.
I went and asked “Praveen, what’s wrong?”
“My cycle key is missing”.
Me “Did you look properly…………. Check your pockets”
“Yeah, but it’s nowhere”
More people approached and soon news was spread that Praveen lost his cycle key. I searched for a while and not finding anything, moved on. I was never much of a retriever.
After some time I heard Fr. Clerus’ voice over the speakers requesting the cooperation of all the students to find the lost key.
The most susceptible place was the playground and almost all the students and teachers were searching there. I was sure that the key can’t remain hidden for long. Suddenly I heard Praveen’s voice over everything.
“I GOT IT, I GOT IT”
I asked “From where did you get it”
Answer “It was in my pocket”.