As a mischievous kid, my dad used to box (pull) my ears three times daily. Some times more often, like milking a cow when it is obstinate.
So as I grew into a monstrous pre-teen, being the organ that was most exercised, my ears grew disproportionately large, till they looked like that of an African elephant. I could waggle it to and fro too, like the elephant. Instead of shaking my head, I learnt to say Yes or No by waggling my ears, forward or backward. And if I saw a pretty girl, the ears stood up !!
Years went by.
In boarding at Rimc in Dun, as I grew into a Godzilla teen, my bums grew disproportionately large, to cushion the impact, because of frequent back rolling, a favoured punishment, to take me back into pre-teen years.
In NDA, at the end of teen age, everything grew disproportionate, due to incessant calisthenics and ‘ragda’ (ragging) of the worst kind, which taxed all parts of the body and mind, except the brain. Maj Bhatia, the catering officer, gave us mounds of delectable food to eat, but only to develop the brawn, to do and die. ‘My sons, you bastards, eat, eat all you can’, he would say. If he had given us food for the soul, we may have tried to reason why, during war that we ran to fight at nineteen!!
In adult life afterwards, I was given grace marks, and thought to be intelligent because of large ears. Like bald men are supposed to be sexy, those with large ears were considered intelligent, especially with a large forehead too. My COs also liked it when I waggled my ears once in a while, like the dog does with its tail, display of ultimate subservience.
During my innings as an instructor in helicopter training school, I would fly three instructional sorties without switching off. While the pupils strapped themselves in, and made themselves comfortable, I would take off my bone dome (protective helmet) and go out for a cigarette and to pee. On return, I would go around the Alouette helicopter to check that everything was OK, especially with the jet engine running at full speed at 33,500 rpm, a banshee scream. Day in and day out, the years went by, and so did my ears. I lost 40% hearing !!
Years went by again and again, at supersonic speed. After hearing my wife scream at me for 40 years, high pitched ‘she-screams’, the ears have now retired and quit. I can neither hear too well, nor show sycophancy, by waggling the ears. I don’t miss the loss of hearing because of ‘ish-speaker phoone’ on my 4 G phone, or inability to waggle wings to indicate radio failure, lack of opportunity, because I have none to show sycophancy.
‘I am loving it’, that I can choose to hear only what I want to hear. But what I really feel sad about, lament, really pissed off, is that my ears don’t stand when I see a pretty lady !!
I wish my dad was still around to milk my ears, just so that I can be a gentleman, and a ladies man !!!!!!!!!!