This Used to be My Playground-1

First published on August 20, 2017---this post is something I come back to often.  Of all the posts published here, I have read this post the most of all. 

I come back to it and re-live my childhood.  So grateful that I can put these down and retrieve them at will.  

So many emotions connected to this 'space' and 'place', that even today they come alive just by looking at this image.  Imagine what happens when I stop here deliberately.  Although situation, people and visitors have changed.  Some have gone, many moved away, and the our house that was a ground floor house with four and half rooms and large areas to play and enjoy winter sun both in the front and the back, is now a four storey apartment building.  

Yet, so much of that house I have carried within myself, ---yes----much beyond that chipped tooth that everyone sees when I open my mouth!!

This picture is right from behind the row of houses where I grew up.  It used to be an open area, with a  little fence, on the opposite side of which were two huge trees.  Peepal and Neem!  

Both the trees are native to India.  

Neem tree is medicinal and very useful. Its twigs are used to brush teeth and it is said that bacteria would not even breathe near your teeth if you use it regularly.   People, even today, keeps its twigs at home, and chew on it first thing in the morning. Its more bitter, but better---than any toothpaste that uses fluoride.

Neem's fruit, nimboli, which is utterly bitter is good to control diabetes and its leaves are used as moth repellants in clothes or even for preventing lice in hair, and several skin diseases. It is quite common to find face masks and face washes made of parts of this tree.  

Some pharmacy companies in the US were trying to patent the medicinal qualities of Neem, along with Tumeric, the yellow powder used in Indian food, and today popular as 'Tumeric Latte' in Starbucks!! (an unhealthy trend, which is what happens when you take away the context of use).

Picture of pipal tree, from our house 

Peepal tree grows tall and large.  There were always several peepal trees in every village. One surely in the village centre, around which a 'thada' a seating arrangement was created in cement. Village elders and travellers would rest under the tree. It was also used by sages for meditation. Like the neem tree, it has medicinal properties.  

But Peepal is associated more with spirituality and its use of 'giving shade' to travellers, being home to many other beings, squirrels, ants, sometimes snakes, birds etc. Hindus would generally shy away from chopping its branches, its considered a sin.  Ofcourse, due to population and the fact that some of these trees are now too close to our houses and interfere with cables and electric wires, may damage cars if heavy branches fall on them, sometimes the unthinkable has to be done.  But often, it is the non-hindus who will do the chopping.  The tree is also used for pradakshina (circumambulation, or meditative pacing) as a mark of worship. 


Both these trees were planted by my father.  He told me numerous stories about the trees.  Pipal tree was popular with the goat herders.  Yes, even in Delhi!!  They (mentioned here) would beg my grandfather to have some small branches so that their goats could graze on fresh leaves. 

Once Dad had planted them it was the travellers who used them, many street workers used them to rest under and shepherds used it for their goats and cattle.  He told me numerous stories about the trees.  Pipal tree was popular with the goat herders.  Yes, even in Delhi!!  They (mentioned here) would beg my grandfather to have some small branches so that their goats could graze on fresh leaves. 

Neem, Dad told us, could not grow to its full potential because of the wire he had tied around its young trunk as a support, got absorbed into the tree as it grew in thickness. And the tree, though tall and large could not really become as big as is possible . One summer Dad put a swing on the Neem tree, there as just a low metal fence between us and the Neem tree, and it was about 10 feet away from our back door.  We enjoyed the swing thoroughly.  But, my youngest sister who was barely two could not.  So smart as father has always been, he took a bucket instead and tied it to the end of the rope.  My sister was put into the bucket!! I still remember it was red plastic bucket with a silver handle.  Few seconds after you saw a beautiful rosy smile on her cheek.  Yup, she had relieved her self in the bucket.  We all went eeeuwww and laughed at the same time.  

This area, behind our back door was also the place where we played in the mild winter sun.  All the neighbourhood aunties were back from work, or the housewives were done with cooking --at least two meals of the day and would pick up their sowing and knitting--mostly knitting and chat away about life, discuss movies and recipes.  We, carefree under the watchful eyes of our mothers, would play with abandon.  Anything from stapu (hopscotch), to catch, to Vish (poison) Amrit (ambrosia) to Elastic (here you view another version of it and another one here).  Badminton and Cricket and dodgeball were played on the other side of the street. Even though there were about 6 parks within 5 minute walking distance we usually stayed around our lane, maybe because we felt protected because of our parents and may be we were just lazy.  Chupa-Chupai, (hide and seek)--we played only during the power cuts (this requires another post), when the entire neighbourhood was dark.  There was another game we played, but for some reason it was played just about any place we hung out. Pithu!! (Seven Stones).  Someone needs to revive that game. It requires one ball, several useless stones, some kids crazy to play and a large field!!  No plastic toys, no computer chips, and its a great exercise for eye-hand coordination and exercising your synapses!!

As I write, I keep remembering more names.  Another one was Gilli ( small stick) Danda (long stick).  The game must be an earlier form of both baseball and cricket. Among other things, the similarity lies in hitting a small stick or shaved wood, with a bigger stick (Danda).  And then there was Kho Kho, which for some reason, we played only in school.  May be because it was better when the teams were larger, like they could be in school.  

Tiipi tipi tap, What Color do you want? remained one of my favourite games.  One person would say, Tippi Tippi Tap, what color do you want?  One color would be chosen, Purple, red, yellow etc. and then within the next minute all the players ran to touch something of that color, if they got caught before they could touch the color they were out.  Then other games such as Langdi-taang (Lame leg--it was like tag only the person catching would hop on one leg, what an amazing exercise for teaching the body about balance), Dodge ball or basket ball, were school sports, including some badminton and table tennis.  There were other games such as LONDON (also called Statue),  where players were supposed to freeze before the person catching could finish spelling LONDON, and the one who stayed in that statue state despite being made to laugh or talk won!! 

For a short time, I remember, my grandfather had grown a kitchen garden there. It was public land but empty and no one used it.  A few summers most of our vegetables came from this patch.  Then two successive years the area was cleared and cleaned to stage the Ramlila, a ten day enactment of the Indian epic, the Ramayana, making our house the green room for actors. Oh what fun, I felt like I was in the company of Bollywood stars.  Even then, it remained our 'playground'.  Whenever this area was cleared ---it felt like 'possibility' but shortly after, it would be covered in grass and weeds. 

I remember noticing many a sunsets there.  One of my favourite memories is when Sahni aunty, our neighbour, who was also a school teacher, one late afternoon pointed to us kids, who were busy with a game of elastic, and said, 'Who wants to chase that golden ball'.  That sunset is etched in my consciousness, it was bright and round and gold.  The kind of sunsets you get in India---long and warm.  That is a peculiarity of Indian sunsets, they are slow and take long, and for about thirty minutes or so everything 'under the sun' acquires a golden hue!!

This was also the place where in fifth grade, while skipping rope, I chipped my front tooth.  My teeth were still new and I remember staring at my face for the longest time, not wanting to smile.  But that 'chip' has become my trademark and I almost do not notice it now. 

Since this area was the 'back door' area, you also had somewhat of nefarious activities .  Well, not really --but somewhat.  I remember one young couple that used this place for their rendezvous.  We kids, not understanding much, knew by their scared looks that something was up.  And we would follow them screaming, 'someone should know, what are you doing? shall we tell your parents' and we would then give an evil laugh.  And we were not even in our teens yet---most of us younger than ten years.  

When this area was still dirt road and unkempt, cows would walk here freely to graze on the little grass on either side of the fence.  Everytime mom made chapatis for cows and birds, she would say open the back door and find a cow.  Sometimes we would make special dishes for the cow.  I remember when I was very young, possibly under four, I have a faint memory that there was a hut in this area, where a village-family lived, they actually owned a cow.  And we would often get gifts and sweets when a calf was born, including the milk that a cow gives right after birth (colostrum).  It is very good for health and we would make sweets out of it. My parents told me it is because our house was among those hastily built for refugees from Pakistan claiming their houses, and that only a 5-6 decades ago that place was completely rural, even though a part of the capital.

Sometimes I would open the back door to just pull a chair and read, and other times, especially in my teens, I would use it for my lone time.  Around the time I was tenth grade, Dad made an attic like room which was quite spacious, and we lovingly called it our palace.  From the window of that room, I had a clear view of this area, still unkempt. The Government never kept its promise of turning it into a park, which we kept hoping for (today I seriously think we should stop blaming governments and take charge and do things ourselves if we are lucky enough to be living in democracies, no matter how frail). 

Quite often this area was filled with construction materials, because our neighbourhood always had some or other house being constructed, or renovated, or upgraded.  Also, at the time there was much empty space, some of which has been filled with new houses.  So, our most favourite material was gray-sand, that is mixed with cement to be used as a binding agent.  I remember once we made a sand-castle out of it, it was quite expansive, meaning we built roads and walls ...to make it look like a fort. 

One of my distinct memories about this place -is studying late at night for my boards (standardised exams for tenth grade) and listening to construction workers singing (mostly women were singing) ----they sounded like trained voices, (like in Fiji and Botswana)--the songs they sang that winter, around a bonfire, still warm my heart. And have always kept my interest in music of the land.  What we get to hear today is commercial and connection to commission and fame, but real music came from the hearts of the people, who knew their environment and made it a part of their songs.(Here is one, but not a very good example. Sort of commercial.  The lyrics are good though. If you ask for mercy, you shall get mercy, if you ask for forgiveness, you shall get forgiveness. But the ones I am talking about had a major environmental theme in it)

Now, instead of that low metal fence there is a ten inch stone wall.  On the other side is small shopping centre.  Not exquisite.  Also a parking lot. 

Or at least it looks like a parking lot.  The above picture was taken from our now four storey building. I grew up in a house, that had only the ground floor, with the exception of our huge attic. Now, we live far above from the ground. We either stare into the peepal tree, or look down at some of its branches. The Peepal is still the stalwart, and stands taller than we can imagine, giving shade to passers by.  But the dirt path is cemented. May be on purpose,  no cows come there, because their hooves cannot find traction.  The stone wall blocks our view, and all we can see of the sky is turning shades during the evening.  Many high rises and huge houses have come up in the area. We have stopped using this path because we usually use the front gate. 

The peepal still stands, holding all our memories, and shines them back at us, whenever we look at it. 

Its branches are cut many times and they grow back.  Like India, the tree must be a senior citizen, it looks young and green though.  Ready to allow children to play under it. 

The area, now cemented and supposedly much more organised remains lonely and quiet.  No children play here, nor do women chat over knitting and gulping cups of tea, no one opens their back doors to exchange a bowl of daal. The neem tree, that we used for our swing is gone, because it needed to be cut to make room for cars. 

And yet every time I walk past this place, sometimes on purpose, I stop, and turn to this area, breathe in the memories.  Laughter and jokes and sunsets mingle, sand castles come alive, I can hear cow bells, I see my grandfather yelling at the Afghani goat herder to not take more leaves than he needs, I see my Dad snoozing there in autumn afternoons, I hear my mom sharing a recipe with others, I see Sahni aunty pointing at the sun, I see myself running to the mirror to see if there was any blood on my chipped tooth, and there I am, my teen self, all brooding and thinking life has just ended because I had a bad day.  Then there is the background music of the village construction workers, that soothes it all.  

As I walk away, I hum to myself, This Used To Be My Playground!!  (video).