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. πŸ™‚

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 πŸ˜₯ 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. πŸ˜₯

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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 16, 2013, in BHS is Home!. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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