No stranger to mishaps
N J Ravi Chander
No stranger to mishaps, this writer has met with many horrific accidents throughout his life. There are plenty of firsts in our lives – our first bike, car, house, teacher, house and mishaps- and these stand out like bookmarks that distinguish between chapters and stick to our memories.
During my kindergarten days in the 1960s, a neighbour named Sampath would wheel my brother N J Prasanna Kumar and me to school on a rickety old bicycle. While my younger sibling rode on the crossbar, I planted myself on the carrier. One day Sampath made the folly of wheeling full pelt and swerving at a bend on the route. The momentum threw me off balance, and I hit the ground in a flash.
I lay spread eagled on the road sobbing as a few onlookers rushed to my aid. The mishap left me cooling my heels at home for two months with my right hand encased in plaster. But recuperating from a fracture was a welcome respite from school as I detested books!
While in standard one a classmate brought a brand new rubber ball to school but refused to share it with the other boys. Like any other child of my age, my eyes shone on seeing the ball. I snatched the bright red orb from his grasp and scampered away, oblivious that this would make him furious. Within moments something struck me on the rear of the head like a bolt from the blue. It was a missile in the form of a small stone thrown at me by the ball owner, and blood flowed like a tap.
A few senior students rushed to my aid, holding a handkerchief against the wound and whisked me away to the hospital at the street corner. There was a trail of blood on the road as a swarm of curious onlookers followed us. Carried up the hospital steps, the seniors finally laid me on a table. A young doctor sewed up the gaping wound and had the scalp plastered and dressed, making me appear like a wounded fighter on the battlefront!
Post-lunch, my mother came dashing to school with anxiety written all over her face. The servant-maid who ferried meals for us had broken the news. That picture of concern and undying love for her injured son spoke a thousand words and remains etched in the memory. The episode had a happy ending though with the errant classmate apologising for his folly and becoming one of my best friends; a camaraderie that lasted till high school!
Some years ago, I had the misfortune of being hit below the groin during a State Senior Division Hockey League match at the astroturf laid KSHA Stadium in Bengaluru. An opposition defender let go a stinger from close quarters when I tried retrieving the ball.
Screaming in pain after taking the blow, I collapsed in a heap. The concerned teammates summoned a stretcher, and a few uncertain moments followed. With players from both sides crowding around me in a circle, I suddenly leapt to my feet and resumed playing much to everyone’s delight. Phew! But that was scary.
(The author is a former banker who has taken up writing as a pastime. He contributes to the Deccan Herald, The New Indian Express, The Tribune, The Hitavada, The City Tab, The Hans India and Kashmir Vision)
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