People say we never forget the pain and joys of childhood I think so too. When I was in Tundla my father had two compounders, that worked for him and were very close. They were regular visitor of our home.
One of them was Bashir Bhaisaab, all I remember about him was he has 11 kids and the 12th was on his/her way when we left Tundla and another thing too, he and his family stayed at our home to guard it while we were away, I don’t know where to, but when we returned the swing, our heartbeat was snapped into two, I don’t know how that almost impossible task was accomplished because the rope that tied that swing was iron, must have been at-least 2-3 inch diameter because I remember it taking quite some place of my kiddy palms.
The other one, Ramanand Yadav, for some reason took a nasty fancy on me and made my life quite annoying, every time that *** used to enter the house he used to chant a two line poem that somehow translated to “the queen and the maid of the household”, and then he used to add that my father picked me up from a dustbin and was bringing me up. Boy! I wonder how could my parents allow him to say those things.
Even now, after all these years I feel like kicking his **** that fellow showed up in my elder sister’s marriage he still was a **** but knew to keep his mouth shut. If he had given me a single chance back then…. 😉
Alas bullies are almost always shrewd! By the way, no he was not a small kid when he was bullying me, his kids were lot older than me. I think the eldest one was older than my eldest sister. So it was not a kid harassing another, it was an adult deliberately harassing a gentle kid who could not hit back. 🙂