Classroom. Chapter #4

6th November 2013: The last few recess.
There are only a few tiffins, which live till the recess. Those who do, get killed rather ruthlessly. Each tiffin seems an end to 100 years of starving And each bite has endless halves, because everytime you sneak a piece, there has to be another person standing at your back saying, “half kar na.” Then there are times when friends will come to you and say, “paav bhaaji mast tha.” What follows after that, is probably censored. The last few recess. Who has ever loved the food? The fun has always been in looting tiffins, struggling to save them, and struggling even harder to have a bite.
Recess, when the air in corridor feels to be the most fresh and then suddenly comes a backhand hit on your main point. Welcome to tiffin break, it means. 🙂

The canteen. The home to beg, borrow, steal. Searching in there, as to who to catch for treat that day, which wallet to run after or whose food to snatch. There maybe five stars, but canteen’s samosa or bba’s submarine shall always be the food to die for. Who shall fight for 5 Rs now? Who shall now do the fake promises of returning the money the next day? School life ends, and we will no longer be the dogs running, fighting, or starving for food. Its just not the school that is ending, it will be an end to the samosa, the submarine or the fun flips.

Our wild side is not only limited to food. The school ground is another wild thing. Basketball, Volleyball, football are just excuses. In reality, we just keep banging into each other, pushing each other, or dodging each other while running. Somewhere between throwing your junior’s cosco ball, and getting our ball thrown by seniors, we have all grown up. Where else would football be all around with cosco balls? Where else would i be injured so many times? mummy maybe happy. She would no longer find my pants torn at the knees. Where else?

And when? The bell at 10:40 😥 is soon, oblivious. Today, the 6th of November, mummy said while i was leaving for school, “tiffin kar lena.” One of those days, when i wanted to obey her, but could not. Recess. 😥

Classroom. Chapter #3

28th November 2013: The last few exams.

Innocent times at junior school, in class 1 or 2, exams were important because mummy made us feel so. Not that they are not important now, but from class 3, we realized, maybe, how vague and unending was it. Not that mummy has stopped attaching importance to exams, but somewhere there when we crossed middle school, the futility of exams overcame its importance. I have just attached the right kind of importance to exams to allow myself to live 12 years of my school, and not more than that, fortunately. And for all these 12 years, exams have been a distinct memory.

With books in hand, summing up the last few things before an exam, through the crowded corridor comes the invigilator, and brings with them our hopes for the particular exam, or, lets be honest, washes out the only little hope. For all your life you will not see a more ecstatic face of anyone, than the students in the class with linient invigilator. The first look of this invigilator entering the examination room and echoes only one thing, “bhai! Pass hai.” And everything is so heavenly about this ‘easy’ invigilator. As they will walk through the corridors, each class would be hoping the teacher turns to their class. A complete opposite reaction follows for invigilators with hawk eyes.

 Cheating was never allowed. It was always an art. The toilet will always have the answers. Then there are chits, pencil box scribblings, formulas written with pencil on table and so on. Methods improved with improvement in technology; Mobile Phones. Brave hearts are those who exchange supplementaries. Statistics show oral methods are most favourable. Forehead, nose, lips, chin. Not your facial parts but four options of MCQ. CBSE brought in MCQs for class X papers, we couldnt have stood helpless.

Supplementaries were special too. With loud cheers, everybody greeted the student who asked for supplementaries and these were the measure of a good paper.  “Bhai, kitna supplementary liya?” – First thing people ask after an exam.

And, how can we miss out on seating arrangements? Coming into the examination room, was to first seat in as advantageous position as it can be. Seating arrangement was based on two principles: Backbench and Toppers. Everybody tried to be as near to both, as they can. 

And, today ends the pre-selection. Another feather in our 3 hour struggle campaigns. Something which I have always ran from, is also one of those things I will miss. Such is the magnanimity at Birla High School. :’)

 “Exams ki woh tayyari, aur likhna woh teen ghante, aur baahar aake woh kehna… Saala kya bekaar paper set kiya hai. I am really gonna miss this place. I am gonna miss my school days.”

Classroom. Chapter #2

13th November, 2013: The Last Stage.
Children’s day celebrations at school. Seeing teachers perform had always been a treat all these 12 years. This year too. But it was more of a reckoning. Realization of how close this very stage has been to me. And how many a performance have i staged here. I have always maintained that the biggest gift Birla High School has given me, is giving me all these opportunities. This stage has been the wrapping paper to that gift. Sounds kiddish, but it has been the colour I always got attracted to, to pull me towards all those opportunities. The thousand stage rehearsals, the hundred performances, all keep coming back to me again and again. I will not be going back to that stage again. Going to the auditorium in Junior School was ecstasy. Getting in to find conditioned air, skipping queues to sit with your friend, and always struggling between sitting comfortably and watching the performance. And there have been so many moments which have been special.
But it had been the most special once. August 2nd 2013, it was.

“Over these nine years of unending journey, Odyssey has earned the reputation of being called the best and the biggest fest in town. But in reality, this biggest fest is measured in petty packages. It is these small tributaries that we have ventured to make this voyage a successful one. Getting to sign on the passes, getting to meet the celebrities, getting to live three months of your life without being bound by the syllabus, coming up till this podium to give a speech at this platform, getting to meet 21 other people over the tireless days and sleepless nights, who i never knew were so crazy… So insane, and so passionate to create this masterpiece, the masterfest, the ninth odyssey. And this defines Nirvana”

The Ninth Odyssey, it was. The Vidya Mandir Auditorium, it is. My theatre of dreams. School life is ending. How amazing it is to find that how close am i to every small part of the school. Be they be this stage, or the staircases. That one staircase, which i have always trusted for bunking. That one staircase where i knew, i can safely open my tiffin. The staircases i have ran about, walked miles on, or have hated after a tired recess… These cannot be a small part. They are life. And all lives on earth perish.