MEMORIES TRIGGERED

Yesterday a friend and I were playing a game of Scrabble. At some stage in the game, my rack had what I thought was a bingo-friendly combination: AGIINP and a blank. I could make PAI(R)ING but it was a "non-go" (the Scrabble player's jargon for a Bingo on the rack that encounters a no-go on the board. Or PAI(N)ING.

I wished I had an S in place of the second I in which case the possibilities seemed endless: SPA(C)ING, S(C)APING, SPA(R)ING, (R)ASPING, S(H)APING, P(H)ASING, PAS(S)ING, PAS(T)ING. PA(R)SING, SAP(P)ING, (L)APSING, GASPIN(G) — and many more. Buy then, as in life, so in Scrabble. I philosophised: you don't get everything you want.

That was when the word PIGNOLIA flashed in my mind. Not a common word, I agree. Like almonds or cashew nut, this edible nut of a pine tree is used in confections. I could make the word using the floating 'O' of the OVARY on the board. I did exactly that and scored a hefty 78 points.

Now, though I had come across this word in 1957 — that is, a good six decades and a half back — I was using this word for the first time in my life and in my Scrabble journey.

I was in Class VII in the MCCHS (Malabar Christian College High School) in what was then called Calicut. Our class teacher was Mr VM Easow who taught us English and mathematics. The strong foundation he laid in these subjects is what I built upon. Equally, if not more importantly, I cherish the values "Easow-Maash" taught us.

Easow-Maash had an impeccable handwriting, whether he wrote on the blackboard or on paper. A typical foolscap (NOT fullscape, he would repeat) sheet with his writing would have thirty lines — no more, no less — (I can see Easow-Maash frowning that I did not use the correct "no fewer") and no over-writings, no corrections and no ersures.

The last periods on Fridays were allotted to the class teacher. Easow-Maash used it for personal interaction with the students and overall development: elocution, recitation, quiz, etc. On days when the weather permitted, we would venture out: he would take us to the college playground. Though his house was on a plot adjoining the playground, instead of going home at the end of the period, he would walk us back to the class and leave the school only after the long bell goes.

On one of those Fridays, Easow-Maash took us to the beach. We picked up seashells and pebbles and made sand-pits and sand-castles. Some who had gone to the shaded area of casuarina trees came back with their pockets full of its seeds with spikes. That was when Easow-Maash told us about acorns and pignolia, the seeds of pine trees.

A strict disciplinarian, he always carried a slender cane while in school. After entering the class, he would place carefully place on the table, making sure that everyone saw it. I don't however recall a single instance when Easow-Maash wielded the cane, though! A frown, a stare, an angry glare — and the most recalcitrant brat would cower and submit.

The stern-faced teacher had a impishly humorous facet too. The proverb which goes something like:

"The greatest oak

Was once a tiny nut

That held its ground."

was paraphrased by Easow-Maash as:

"The mighty oak

Was once a little acorn;

And the tallest yew

A nut like you!"

He would tweak the children's rhyme

"Under the spreading chestnut tree

There we sit, both you and me.

Oh, how happy we will be!

Under the spreading chestnut tree."

to

"Under the spreading chestnut tree

I sold you and you sold me.

Oh, how happy we will be!

Under the spreading chestnut tree."

(Mind you, this was long before horse-trading and resort-politics had acquired the currency and the legitimacy they enjoy today!)

Tailpiece: Even after placing PIGNOLIA, I lost!