2.30s

How 2.30s in my life has changed?

My faintest memory of afternoon 2.30 is of summer of 1989 is. Didi would come jumping around from school, hug me and shower her kisses on me. Mummy would ask both of us to go for shower and didi and I will sing:

 I hear thunder, I hear thunder.

Hark don't you? Hark don't you? 

Pitter, patter raindrops, 

Pitter, patter raindrops,

I'm wet through; so are you.

I would laugh at my loudest. Seeing her singing gave such adrenaline rush. One of the most absolute form of happiness, I can recall from the initial years of my life. I would clap and dance. Mummy would come and wrap both of us in towel. Lunch  was followed by afternoon siesta. Papa would try to sing to make us sleep and didi and I would silently giggle at his attempts waiting him to sleep. We would quietly slip away for our singing, jumping, dancing.

It was 1995. I was happy that papa was transferred to a nice place. Only because I changed my school and I could spend more time at home doing nothing than sleeping on my sister’s lap in school bus. The new school was just ten minutes walk. 2.30 was the time when I would be finishing my lunch. I would be painting after that. I had this nice drawing note book with camel poster colors. These were my prized possessions. I also had brushes of all the number. All my life will be focused on 2.30 afternoon drawing sessions. There was a big study table in our room which didi used. I was very attached to the school uniform especially the white shirt; the only oddness in otherwise colorful 2.30s. Mum would scream at me but I would never change. It was only during evening that I would change. What a moment of solitude it used to be. Starting from 2.30, everybody at home would be taking the afternoon nap and I would secretly paint. Secretly because mum expected me to take rest but I discovered in me the indefatigable painter.

2004, we would be sitting in lab, waiting for the titration results to come or Frog's muscle twitching. Those centrifugation tubes, pipette, titration experiments. There were no chairs in the lab. I would always wear my torn jeans so that when diluted hydrochloric acid falls on my jeans, I would not regret. We looked like those car mechanics with greased white lab coats. I so much hated these 2.30s. There was nothing exciting about them. All I would look for will be running away, escaping to some unknown territory away from that four walled laboratory. I would have those silent tears in my heart.

2009, I will be sitting in environment law classes discussing polluter pays principles, M.C Mehta’s cases, wildlife protection act, Public Interest Litigations. How much engrossed I would be. The next class would talk about diminishing resources, optimization and marginal utilities. I was glad to be away from four walls of lab but that longing for siesta would often remain especially triggered by the lectures.

2013, I am supposed to be analyzing policies, intricacies of what renaissance forestry sector in India needs and the description of this 2.30 is shortest. Probably, I left my heart in 2.30 of summer of 1989 and I never use brain when I visit ‘catharsis’