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.

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About Chetan

A twenty year old infant who fears if crows may shit on him or if Bengali aunties' umbrellas may prick him in the eye. He is currently waiting for Mamata Banerjee to leave Kolkata.

Posted on December 2, 2013, in BHS is Home! and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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