Polly- an Introduction

Thanks to her office guys who pressured her into joining FB, I finally found Polly again, our friend from school, who had just about created the profile with her basic info… Polly is the one who inspired the wildness in me. I met her in class IV, could not understand or pronounce her name for days. Usually sitting in first or second benches, my friend Sharda saw the combined Moral Science class of different sections as an opportunity to goof around a bit. I was about to learn to laugh from this time onward. So, Sharda would lead me right upto the last bench near the second door of Class IV-C and sit with the quiet girl in the corner.

(picture borrowed from the internet)

Sharda prompted, “is se iska naam poochho, na”/ “ask her name”… I did that for a couple of days, until she got angry, because we could neither understand nor pronounce it, even when she showed us her copy with the label… and Sharda would cover her mouth and giggle! One day I was absent and Sharda made friends with the girl and told me the next day that she is a nice girl and her nick name is Polly… Not that I know the meaning of it now, but I can pronounce her official name too…  It is written as ‘Sutapa’, pronounced "Shuthopa". So that was that, and then Sushma had gotten all of us 'abnormal' girls together by class VI...  

All of us were uniquely funny, but Polly has also always been amazing. She used to travel all the way from her home in Hindmotor, a small town in Hooghly District to our school in Park Lane, near St.Xavier's in Calcutta... Rumour has it that Polly beat up an older boy of class V who then left school...

It is Polly, who would reach a friend’s doorstep and just as she’s about to ring the doorbell, would start to pray, “he bhagwaan wo ghar pe nahin ho”/ “God, please don’t let her be at home!”

Captain of Gold House by the time she reached class VII, she is the one who inspired me to play catch and patiently taught me how to really throw that tennis ball! With guts to not hide behind a demure façade, during a tiffin break when Sushma gave Polly’s butt a back kick, beautiful Mrs. D. Basu also called them both, ‘GoonDi’/ruffian, but with a lot of loveJ

 Picture taken at BITM, during Science Exhibit, Class IX. (R-L) Sushma, our best friend Shadma (may she rest in peace) and I.

Between us, we have lost some loved ones. Now is the time to collect all good wishes for those remaining…

My nieces have heard the story of how when we were in class VIII, Tushar, our office peon, had told us of the bad-smelling plant… when crushed it smells like S*** and can be used to have some fun. I had gone to school and told my friends about it. And Polly volunteered to bring it… ‘Although, the plant may not be in Hindmotor (town near Calcutta) where she lived with her family, her father may be able to find it from a town nearby’. So she asked uncle to bring it as “Dolly ka peT kharaab hai”/ “Dolly’s stomach is upset”. May he rest in peace, Uncle had gone to the other town, brought back the medicinal herb and the next day Polly had gotten for us a bagful of those infamous leaves.

We had duly crushed the leaves all along the red skirting of our classroom, disrupted the studies because of wasteful discussions, and in the end our new and handsome biology teacher had come in and agreed with us, saying “It is coming from the chemistry lab, shut all the windows.” Many of us complained of headache by the time he left and ran to open the windows!

(Shadma, Shalini, Sutapa, Sharda, Nauras and Sangeeta. Clicked by me on a trip to Nicco Park, Calcutta, with some of their new friends from College)

Polly invited us every year to her place for her Birthday treat! No matter when it fell, we tried going on Saturday. My mother used to learn of new superstitions and was especially skeptical of us doing anything on Saturdays… She had become extremely protective of us since Papa. I used to regale her with the stories of Polly’s bravado and get permission! But I do remember her smiling when she said ‘yes’, (despite her brother’s/ my Mama ji's warnings) after her time restictions… and I realize (only after seeing Barkha with her kids) how happy my mother must have been, seeing her shy and quiet kid going on a day’s journey to Howrah Station, on a local train to another town for a feast and then coming back with friends. One day we got late, really late…                        To be continued…