Category Archives: BHS is Home!

Classroom. Chapter #5

15th January 2014: A Winter Morning.

Normal school is over and so are the selections exams. A day in January, so rare, where I did not need to wake up at 6. A winter morning, where I wasn’t struggling to get out of my blanket, or trembled with cold while dressing up. 12 years of winter mornings behind me where each day mummy has given all her efforts in waking me up and I? “Mummy paanch minute aur sone do!” Then eventually leaving home, and checking how much of smoke is being let out from my mouth that day. All of us at Birla High School would know how much cold do girls feel in their skirts, given that we have had half pants for 5 years in the junior school. Then their were the sweaters. ❤ The full sweaters which we wore less, and tied to our waists, more. That was the most awesome thing which ever happened in my school life in winters. The dance classes we needed to attend, bare footed, and all the shrill voices claim, “Zameen kitna thanda hai na?” For once in our junior school days, we would not be too excited for the Air conditioned Computer Labs, given the Celsius dip. Nothing can make a school day better, than no studies taking place at school. Winters meant sports practices.
Middle school set in motion. Mummy’s difficulties in waking up aggravated. Full sweaters were no longer a part of the uniform. There was just the excitement of being in that part of the school, which has always been there since five years now, but never explored. We never realized that we will be missing Junior school only until studies became bullish in class 7 with a dip in our marks. Ties around our neck and small shoulders carrying the oversized blazers, and teachers telling us that blazers are not to worn around the waists.
Class 9 & 10. Senior school. Blazers became our love and so became the pockets in them for they were now home to chits and mobile phones. Photos in blazers had to be clicked. Bless the tailors who sewed five pockets on the blazer, including two on the inside. Winters escaped studies even more. There were march past practices. Sports teachers always had the funny air around them; in their way of speaking, pronunciation or their behavior.

389193_444702848887272_2041711114_n 408805_354865104537714_1337565007_n 431540_354867474537477_544186040_n

This was the time, we first realized our love for winters.

Class 11. Go slow, winters. That awesome feeling in the November month that you will soon be wearing blazers. And there was Fare thee Well 2013. Annual exams weren’t too far but our escapist journey continued, this time with the Farewell programme we were organising. Not much of a difference it was; first, we escaped studies, then the studies escaped us. The best winters of my school life. We sat in the classroom only to give attendance for the day. The dance practices, paper work, master of ceremonies practices, making new friends… like life had just begun. A group of students will have to mean some fights. Big and small grudges set in. They say, fun cannot be permanent. They were true. Our fun stopped at the sight and voice of one person, our dear co-ordinator. Winter did not play much of its part, maybe, but there was something about this season that the good things landed up right here.

Class 12. :’) Blazers were soon to be non-existent. Mummy’s struggles were coming to an end. School lessons can no longer be escaped from. School got over. I hid myself in a blanket. 😦

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.
560478_398774333480124_1240589841_n
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.404416_352704591420432_190179939_n

 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.395239_350752071615684_125653284_n

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.420602_374301729260718_1226737341_n (1)

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. 397199_350752198282338_781422577_n

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.”

%d bloggers like this: