April 11, 2020

3. Rekha Chitra Pathasala...Peacock feathers in Notebooks..

The house we lived on was located on the main road. If we walked a few feet past the Mandi, there was a drawing school. As I was interested in drawing and coloring, my aunt pushed me to go and inquire. What would a ten year old go and ask? I was hesitant and scared to go and speak. Unhappy to approach, unable to talk back, cursing my ill fate, I mustered all my courage and went and asked the instructor cum owner of the place if they would teach me art. His name was Harish. A middle aged man. He said they don't teach kids my age and you have to have completed at least 7th grade and have to prepare for a state level examination. As relieved as I could be, I went and reported the same at home. One would leave it at that. But my aunt wouldn't. She persists me to go and convince him to teach me. Not sure if it was my pale face or my determination; he agreed to teach me. 
        Today if I am able to draw a line properly or make a rangoli well, the credit is his. I learnt the art of sharpening a pencil there. Though sharpeners were in use by then, I learned that a pencil has six edges and you keep sharpening each edge and sharpen the lead only to your desired thickness. I learned the variety of shades a pencil could carry. From HB, 2B to 8B to H9 and the magic you can do with those shades. I was taught that art doesn't mean filling in the pictures with colors, or using the sketch pens in a disorderly manner. He did not let me draw any other picture for an year except vertical & horizontal lines, semi circles and curves..If my strokes are thin, that's where I learnt. I haven't come across an art teacher like him who teaches the basics like he does. I tried to find for both my kids and couldn't. May be I won't ever. I owe you, Harish sir. 
                  I remembered something when I say pencils. Unlike kids today, we did not have hundreds of pencils and dozens of erasers. Each of us were given one. Before the end of the week, my sister's pencil would be as short as finger. Upon asked at home, we wouldn't tell the truth, right? Secret behind the pencil length is someone said that if you stored the pencil shavings in a note book, it would produce peacock feathers. Now tell me, how many of you tried that? 
              Meanwhile my sister joined in a classical dance school and she would walk more than a kilometer, crossing a railway track and lot of traffic. So, we moved to another home opposite to Ushodaya Junior college. It was owned by a popular contractor 'Mallesam Mestri' who owned many houses...More memories to come...

3 comments:

  1. Love your memories sweetheart. Keep writing. Hope your kids read them too. Hugs.

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  2. Wow.... I realized that any post about childhood memories, the words just flow effortlessly.... you took us back to the lessons with Harish sir and the pencil scrappings in the notebook....Lovely post Prithvi

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