An eventful picnic

Right in the middle

We had arranged a picnic at a sprawling open space somewhere on the outskirts of Moradabad in the early years of the '70s. The event was exclusively organised for the employees in the middle tier of our machine tool factory. On the day of the event, boarding two buses enfamille we arrived at the venue. The spot, besides being off the track, had tall trees which soaked up much of the heat of the sun; there was also a river nearby with clean water flowing in it.

Soon after reaching the spot we had piping hot idlis that we washed down with steaming coffee. Breakfast done, games were organised for children and prices distributed. Spoon race, sack race for couples, threading the needle while walking were games played by the better halves of many male members.

Tambola, (a game similar to binge) was the next one that attracted the most people. Opting out of the game, I began strolling towards by the river with a handful of others who were Tambola-shy like me in tow. I sat on the river bank soaking in the sight of the water lapping against the rocks and boulders in its flow while others were joyously playing duck and drake picking flat stones lying around them.

With the clock ticking towards lunchtime, we retraced our steps to the picnic spot and joined the first sitting of diners before whom were placed banana leaves cut to short lengths. Soon a wide south-Indian fare, prepared specially for the occasion, was served to everyone. After everyone had dessert, musical chairs for the womenfolk commenced. Every successive round progressed exuberantly with the crowd around making whoopee. In the last round of the game, two ladies were running around a single wooden stool. When the music stopped they dashed to occupy the stool. One of them named, Mary flumped on the stool that broke into two with the impact of the fall. The other lady fell over her like a ton of bricks. The crowd of onlookers around stood breathless for a moment. Collecting however from the shock some of them rushed to them and helped them to be up.

Finding Mary hobbling towards the vehicle for our return to the factory I assisted her to leg up. Almost a decade later, chancing upon the same Mary at a park in Bangalore, I stood speechless as she was not on a musical chair but a wheelchair, her face pallid, body paralysed below the waist due to the same slump on the stool during that bittersweet occasion of the picnic. Grief choking my throat, I stood eyes suffused with tears.