A
Beautiful Memory: Learning, Belonging and Other Musings
High School Reminiscences, part 6 of 16
Nobody is perfect in this world, none more so than an innocent school student wanting to tackle the odds and ends of his/her studentship days and appreciate life as it comes. Still, for a Plus-2 teenager admitted into a new faraway school, braving the rigours of studying heavy-duty subjects like Maths, Physics, Biology, and Chemistry (MPBC), he ended up being not quite at home, feeling uncomfortable with the new surroundings and things like that, with the kind of school life he was experiencing, particularly during those two important years.
From a Christian convent education background to a central school setup, it was like he had been plonked down in the middle of big nowhere. Lonely among the smartly dressed, insatiably curious, potently inspirational characters, he didn’t quite get to know fully, he imagined problems that really didn’t exist. For any teenager, he kidded to himself, problems are not problems at all unless they are mathematical. Math problems are the real ‘problems’ if they are solved everything is on the right track. Other problems are for the adults to tackle not for any school-going teenager to worry about, at least not yet.
What’s more, with barely anyone to call a friend, those two tepid years had been quite a tricky pickle, a Catch-22 situation, he had been in.
They were not friends, were they?
At times, I used to more or less remain impassive to some of my classmates’ beefy mannerisms mainly because, being shy and self-conscious that I was, I found it very, to put it gently, patronizing. I think that’s quite natural an affectation because since I come from a slightly different background in comparison to what I was being introduced to at the school, I was bound to get a little perturbed by almost everything I’ve never seen or heard before as a school student. The new school was really something of a big task to come to grips with. Friendship was a malady in that school, so in no uncertain terms I told myself off: Get a move on.
They, the ‘Arrogant Lot’, kept up the tempo of impressing everyone in the class with their signature antics. (I concede full marks to them as they were very good at their seemingly old game of one-upmanship). Full marks to these accomplished lot of self-flagellators, pounding with the kind of synapse-searing effects of their vivacious behaviour showing off their full regalia of gutsy glory with much aplomb. Needless to mention, most of the time I used to find it hard to believe because I wasn’t quite used to seeing their staple of coarse ruffling tactics (read teenage politics) I thought it a little odd. I don’t know about other students like me but I thought their general conduct which was one of dominance didn’t tickle my fancy at all; in fact, it got in my way of acknowledging their persevering zeal to study well and get “good marks” in the tests-slash-exams so much so that I decided to relegate myself to a cosy corner of self-introspection and quiet contemplation. With no hope to befriend anyone in the class except just one – a saving grace indeed, I thought, man I have got to get a move on with my life! So many subjects, so little time!
Being slightly nervous and edgy, my cautious interaction with most of these class fellows didn’t help my case either. Expecting good companionship or friendship from them was asking to, it seemed, hazard one’s rank, status, or ability as a schoolboy. Because they weren’t really interested in friendship much less kinship, I felt that I was unnecessarily constraining them to feel inspired by it and how good it is to be friendly with one another in the class. Friendship works for everybody. Regrettably, they didn’t take the bait!
To their continued dislike or royal ignore for the thought of great friendship, I proffered, albeit meekly, to push for the compelling idea of meaningful friendship-slash-companionship with them, but none came. Friendship was not their priority; these somewhat prejudiced individuals had other better things to do. Seeing all these in my first year of the two years I had spent in that nice little school I began to – not despise, that would be too strong a word to use – feel repulsed by this strange set of bombastic students without showing it upfront. Despite this spot of botheration, once in a while, I used to find myself joining in the ruckus they made in the class, just by coolly listening to their hectoring ‘BIG BALLER, SHOT CALLER’ talk show, again without evincing much interest.
Proudly buck-toothed and buffoonish Hawkish Sribathtub had zero appreciation for friendship. He straightaway rejected the idea of friendship with one another with an acid disdain – that is to say, in the snidest of terms that could be possible spewing he basically refused to entertain any sort of emotional rapport or kinship with anybody in the class. He loved the manner in which he was. No doubt about it. No doubt also about the fact that he became very famously known as a ‘MASTER OF REBUKES’. Naturally, I (and most likely others too but I can’t say for sure) began to pay no attention to his acrimonious ways after being unduly troubled by associating with him. Just within the first few days into our first academic year, I remember how astonished I was to find him slowly turning out to be a different kind of person who is peculiarly disposed and aggressively individualistic that I couldn’t quite properly comprehend earlier. But when I realized something wasn’t right with him, I became deeply offended by him as a so-called fellow student sitting just a few meters away in the same class. I thought Hawkish would be a good friend but he simply wasn’t interested. I quickly understood that it was his own choice to be such an individual; it’s not anybody’s business (and it is pointless and stupid) to mould him into someone he is not. Baljee Risla his all-weather co-bencher could have better ideas than I could come up with about him.
Anyway, one of the things that worried me as a student is that he began to be blisteringly rude particularly in his behaviour with me as though some wild nerve had come off or got separated in his head and he starts acting smart as a result. Except when the classes were in the session he thoroughly enjoyed being an almighty class-bully. Much to my dismay then that I had made the terrible mistake of disclosing to him which school I was getting admission into after finishing my 10th. I didn't make a big deal about it at first, however later I suffered due to my apparent lack of discretion. Before I knew it he shamelessly followed me to the much talked about central school and immediately took an admission, and to rub salt in the wounds he chose the science stream just as I had!
Unfortunately, Hawkish Sribathtub turned out to be a big disappointment. No doubt, life would have been to some degree more peaceful and kindly without having this impolite equivalent of a fair-weather friend around as a classmate. On my part, however, it was a classic case of poor judgment (of his bogus friendship) and a late realization that contributed to the mushrooming billows of COLD WAR between us. From this sad little thing, I had learned a hard good lesson: Never take anything at face-value while associating with so-called ‘friends’ at school, it massacres your educational proficiency and prestige afterward.
There are loads of reasons why I loved that school especially because of its scenic location: in the remotest corner of the open countryside, miles away from the city. If I could relive high school again I’d be the first one to shoot my hand up and say loudly: “PRESENT MISS!” Part of the reason why I loved that school very much is because I shared my two very significant years with someone I loved just as much. Nothing could match the experience of talking and walking down the path towards the BIOLOGY or PHYSICS lab or “proceeding” towards the grassy ground to take part in the AZAD HOUSE-related activities, S.U.P.W. interludes, taking a moment or two just to sneak a look – all starry eyed at one another, writing copious notes to each other, and so much more. No matter where you go or what you do in life, you’ll never forget where you first fell in love, miss playing baseball, academic books and fountain pens, get good grades with little to no effort, readings at the library, not having life taken over by technology, … I could author a bestselling book. The school is deeply etched in my mind, and I can’t express gratitude toward it enough giving me the kind of friends, teachers, memories that allow me, now in adulthood, to reminisce about how much I adored it. My heart is still bleeding BLUE and WHITE; I am still an ‘AZAD’ (Azad House) at heart. It was all so incredibly wonderful.
Both Baljee Risla and Hangorak Tarik were not far behind from such a comradely show of indignity towards the sacred idea of SCHOOL FRIENDSHIP, which I believe is no less than a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that must be had at all costs. Sadly, they skipped it forthwith! Not interested in investing their time in such a thing! Hope today, wherever they are, they get to realize (I am sure much to their discomfiture) what they have missed all those years back, over three long decades previous. We have squandered the sublime feeling of friendship that never could bloom amongst us students – that is what we have missed. Besides, we’ve failed to embrace friendship fully and wholeheartedly.
* "Baje Sargam Har Taraf Se,School friendship doesn’t work. When you have been ‘friends’ with someone only for two years at a school, chances are that the friendship won’t keep going forever. Friendships constantly evolve, therefore there’s no one way to guarantee that they will last. That’s the downside.
Goonje Bankar Desh Raag"
Nobody is perfect in this world, none more so than an innocent school student wanting to tackle the odds and ends of his/her studentship days and appreciate life as it comes. Still, for a Plus-2 teenager admitted into a new faraway school, braving the rigours of studying heavy-duty subjects like Maths, Physics, Biology, and Chemistry (MPBC), he ended up being not quite at home, feeling uncomfortable with the new surroundings and things like that, with the kind of school life he was experiencing, particularly during those two important years.
From a Christian convent education background to a central school setup, it was like he had been plonked down in the middle of big nowhere. Lonely among the smartly dressed, insatiably curious, potently inspirational characters, he didn’t quite get to know fully, he imagined problems that really didn’t exist. For any teenager, he kidded to himself, problems are not problems at all unless they are mathematical. Math problems are the real ‘problems’ if they are solved everything is on the right track. Other problems are for the adults to tackle not for any school-going teenager to worry about, at least not yet.
What’s more, with barely anyone to call a friend, those two tepid years had been quite a tricky pickle, a Catch-22 situation, he had been in.
They were not friends, were they?
At times, I used to more or less remain impassive to some of my classmates’ beefy mannerisms mainly because, being shy and self-conscious that I was, I found it very, to put it gently, patronizing. I think that’s quite natural an affectation because since I come from a slightly different background in comparison to what I was being introduced to at the school, I was bound to get a little perturbed by almost everything I’ve never seen or heard before as a school student. The new school was really something of a big task to come to grips with. Friendship was a malady in that school, so in no uncertain terms I told myself off: Get a move on.
They, the ‘Arrogant Lot’, kept up the tempo of impressing everyone in the class with their signature antics. (I concede full marks to them as they were very good at their seemingly old game of one-upmanship). Full marks to these accomplished lot of self-flagellators, pounding with the kind of synapse-searing effects of their vivacious behaviour showing off their full regalia of gutsy glory with much aplomb. Needless to mention, most of the time I used to find it hard to believe because I wasn’t quite used to seeing their staple of coarse ruffling tactics (read teenage politics) I thought it a little odd. I don’t know about other students like me but I thought their general conduct which was one of dominance didn’t tickle my fancy at all; in fact, it got in my way of acknowledging their persevering zeal to study well and get “good marks” in the tests-slash-exams so much so that I decided to relegate myself to a cosy corner of self-introspection and quiet contemplation. With no hope to befriend anyone in the class except just one – a saving grace indeed, I thought, man I have got to get a move on with my life! So many subjects, so little time!
Being slightly nervous and edgy, my cautious interaction with most of these class fellows didn’t help my case either. Expecting good companionship or friendship from them was asking to, it seemed, hazard one’s rank, status, or ability as a schoolboy. Because they weren’t really interested in friendship much less kinship, I felt that I was unnecessarily constraining them to feel inspired by it and how good it is to be friendly with one another in the class. Friendship works for everybody. Regrettably, they didn’t take the bait!
To their continued dislike or royal ignore for the thought of great friendship, I proffered, albeit meekly, to push for the compelling idea of meaningful friendship-slash-companionship with them, but none came. Friendship was not their priority; these somewhat prejudiced individuals had other better things to do. Seeing all these in my first year of the two years I had spent in that nice little school I began to – not despise, that would be too strong a word to use – feel repulsed by this strange set of bombastic students without showing it upfront. Despite this spot of botheration, once in a while, I used to find myself joining in the ruckus they made in the class, just by coolly listening to their hectoring ‘BIG BALLER, SHOT CALLER’ talk show, again without evincing much interest.
Proudly buck-toothed and buffoonish Hawkish Sribathtub had zero appreciation for friendship. He straightaway rejected the idea of friendship with one another with an acid disdain – that is to say, in the snidest of terms that could be possible spewing he basically refused to entertain any sort of emotional rapport or kinship with anybody in the class. He loved the manner in which he was. No doubt about it. No doubt also about the fact that he became very famously known as a ‘MASTER OF REBUKES’. Naturally, I (and most likely others too but I can’t say for sure) began to pay no attention to his acrimonious ways after being unduly troubled by associating with him. Just within the first few days into our first academic year, I remember how astonished I was to find him slowly turning out to be a different kind of person who is peculiarly disposed and aggressively individualistic that I couldn’t quite properly comprehend earlier. But when I realized something wasn’t right with him, I became deeply offended by him as a so-called fellow student sitting just a few meters away in the same class. I thought Hawkish would be a good friend but he simply wasn’t interested. I quickly understood that it was his own choice to be such an individual; it’s not anybody’s business (and it is pointless and stupid) to mould him into someone he is not. Baljee Risla his all-weather co-bencher could have better ideas than I could come up with about him.
Anyway, one of the things that worried me as a student is that he began to be blisteringly rude particularly in his behaviour with me as though some wild nerve had come off or got separated in his head and he starts acting smart as a result. Except when the classes were in the session he thoroughly enjoyed being an almighty class-bully. Much to my dismay then that I had made the terrible mistake of disclosing to him which school I was getting admission into after finishing my 10th. I didn't make a big deal about it at first, however later I suffered due to my apparent lack of discretion. Before I knew it he shamelessly followed me to the much talked about central school and immediately took an admission, and to rub salt in the wounds he chose the science stream just as I had!
Unfortunately, Hawkish Sribathtub turned out to be a big disappointment. No doubt, life would have been to some degree more peaceful and kindly without having this impolite equivalent of a fair-weather friend around as a classmate. On my part, however, it was a classic case of poor judgment (of his bogus friendship) and a late realization that contributed to the mushrooming billows of COLD WAR between us. From this sad little thing, I had learned a hard good lesson: Never take anything at face-value while associating with so-called ‘friends’ at school, it massacres your educational proficiency and prestige afterward.
There are loads of reasons why I loved that school especially because of its scenic location: in the remotest corner of the open countryside, miles away from the city. If I could relive high school again I’d be the first one to shoot my hand up and say loudly: “PRESENT MISS!” Part of the reason why I loved that school very much is because I shared my two very significant years with someone I loved just as much. Nothing could match the experience of talking and walking down the path towards the BIOLOGY or PHYSICS lab or “proceeding” towards the grassy ground to take part in the AZAD HOUSE-related activities, S.U.P.W. interludes, taking a moment or two just to sneak a look – all starry eyed at one another, writing copious notes to each other, and so much more. No matter where you go or what you do in life, you’ll never forget where you first fell in love, miss playing baseball, academic books and fountain pens, get good grades with little to no effort, readings at the library, not having life taken over by technology, … I could author a bestselling book. The school is deeply etched in my mind, and I can’t express gratitude toward it enough giving me the kind of friends, teachers, memories that allow me, now in adulthood, to reminisce about how much I adored it. My heart is still bleeding BLUE and WHITE; I am still an ‘AZAD’ (Azad House) at heart. It was all so incredibly wonderful.
Both Baljee Risla and Hangorak Tarik were not far behind from such a comradely show of indignity towards the sacred idea of SCHOOL FRIENDSHIP, which I believe is no less than a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that must be had at all costs. Sadly, they skipped it forthwith! Not interested in investing their time in such a thing! Hope today, wherever they are, they get to realize (I am sure much to their discomfiture) what they have missed all those years back, over three long decades previous. We have squandered the sublime feeling of friendship that never could bloom amongst us students – that is what we have missed. Besides, we’ve failed to embrace friendship fully and wholeheartedly.
School friendship is supposed to be SWEET in feeling but it turned out to be - quite unlike what I had been looking forward to, right from the start of Class XI - sour and always indignant. If two full years of studying together in that wonderful school surroundings weren’t sufficient for us to make long-lasting friendships, then how many years could we have had to actually do so? God knows. What could be more pathetic than this upsetting reality? Save for Topal Chapathi, Thomas (Doubting Thomas?), and last but not least Masush Rencelaw (another name: Rushma Florence) and her conscience-keeping sanitizer of a friend Mitu Singh – all from Class Eleven, and P.S.V.V.S.T.U.V.W.X.Y.Z. Ramraj (and his sibling) from Class Twelve, no one from our class knew anyone else not even by chance. That's how it was. Regrettably, for the majority of the colleagues from my own Class XII friendship was not in their scheme of things. Say what you might, the writing on the wall was loud and clear: The students from Class XI were far more modern, up-to-date, and forthcoming (and exciting) than we intrepid seniors from Class Twelve could ever figure out how to be.
I fear I maybe am sounding like someone who is being a foolish know-it-all faulty in the head (or holier-than-thou) and is coming across as slightly disgruntled, but I assure you that it is not the case. Just like any teenager, I too have learned my share of lessons from what Life had or has in store for me. All life is a learning experience. This much I’ve understood that Life presents just one golden chance for you to have it, never again is it going to come to you if you had managed to evade it the first time around. Life is all about one good chance that you can avail of, nothing more nothing less. Does it sound unnecessarily intellectual? Maybe it is. I hope you guys will find your redemption and are already living a long happy cheerful life. That’s the spirit, people.
Friendship? Okay, Fine, Whatever
One day, I ventured to say, just for the heck of it, what I’d like to become in my life: the kind of career I’d like to take up. I quipped: “an ASTRONAUT” and I didn’t baulk one bit when I said that. I uttered the words as simply and straight-faced as I could muster in front of a beehive of intelligent watching eyes and clever heads. Immediately, I expected laughter from them and then thought maybe a round of verbal scorns will ensue from their mouths while also pulling their faces cursing inwardly. But no, nothing of that sort had happened. Laughing their hearts out could have been an appropriate response to my quip. I was kind of disappointed because I was, in all my honesty, anticipating good laughs because anyone saying “an ASTRONAUT” was supposed to be a funny thing, especially when we are mostly accustomed to hearing Engineering or Medicine as standard career choices. They didn’t laugh, they scowled.
I watched their faces: they looked strangely glum and kept blinking at me in disbelief as if I have said something they never expected in the first place, as if becoming an Astronaut was their entitlement, not for others to even dare think about it. Expecting others (read the ‘Humble Lot’) to even say something like that, is, to them, totally uncalled for. How foolish things were with them. Thereafter, realizing that the Arrogant Lot thought too little of other peoples’ abilities, I ignored them. I surmised mentally that it would be an exercise in futility to correct their attitude towards others who were not from their group. And rubbing salt into the wounds, and I remember with a cynical ‘See-I-told-you!’ grin on my face, I quickly added a rejoinder: “First of all, a good human being and second of all, perhaps something for the world: maybe an astronaut will do or some such thing”.
Obviously, I decided to play it cool. As though becoming an Astronaut was like a cakewalk or angling in a lake to catch fish or something of that sort. Only it wasn’t, of course. Let that safely be said. But surprisingly, they took the bait! While I knew that they didn’t really think I was capable of becoming an Astronaut or something, (and the feeling is mutual anyway), what got their tongue was the proverbial cat because they couldn’t come up with such a great thing to say! Tsk tsk! What a shame.
But in all honesty, I expected a good cackle among themselves, but no, not even a hint of it came forth. No one laughed or snickered. They simply rolled away from me, frowning. That’s when I understood that they were not really ‘friends’; they were egotistical, puffed-up with pride classmates (the Arrogant Lot) with practically little sense of humour and zero promise of friendship. I could also make out if any of them were friends with others in the true sense of the word, they were not. At school, friendship was not of their concern: If anyone happens to get a little chummy or slightly more friendly, that would happen very rarely though, with someone, outcomes the rebuke “Tu full free ho jara mujhse!” from their mouth. That’s how mean they were, always abhorring familiarity or close companionship with one another. Due to some kind of depressive mentality that was, I suppose, inherent in them, part of their upbringing, insecurity, cynical mania of their mind-set not used to making friends easily when there is someone to make friends with, they became simply incapable to form a friendship with anyone.
Sadly, a lifelong friendship was not something they were born desiring. Instead, they choose to fool themselves with a momentary flux of passions and desires, night and day, year by year, hankering after “good marks”, feeling needlessly superior, mad with ignorant ambition, snubbing possible friends, and above all career-mongering – all of that mounted upon their teenage heads like crowning glory! Poor ruddy folks!
For two long years, their sole agenda was to study, with zero likelihood of making good friends with anyone present in class. Studying well, impressing teachers, and getting “good marks” are all academically fine but don’t tell me they were not affected by the fact that they ended up with not a single friend. Were they of the opinion that friendship comes in the way of studies and that they’ll not be able to get “good marks” to varnish their report card with or build “good careers” if it is given undue precedence? Does it mean that friendship is a cheap little thing one should avoid at all costs? WRONG! Oh poor fellows, what do you know? Friendship is sublime, and you guys had to shirk it as if it was a lowly plague. Don't worry, I’ve given “good marks” to almost all of you chaps for not giving due importance that our fallow kind of friendship deserved! Tell me, can’t Friendship and Studies exist side by side? Like friends, if you like? So very sad is the reality of my student life with you fellas that I’ve now ceased to dwell on this woebegone-ish pet peeve.
I don’t mind sounding a little vainglorious and proud here, but I think I realize that thinking back to those two ‘friendless’ years could cause a torrent of heartaches and heartbreaks for me to deal with, so I don’t dare. Of late, I have been incessantly trying to train my mind to remember less and less about all of my class fellows who have been once a part for two undeniably wonderful years of my life in the good old forgotten central school which is no longer in existence, however, none of my attempts was successful. I don't have anything more to say. Maybe just a few lines more and I’ll be finished narrating this doleful tale of mine.
(A confession: I had a lot going on in my life at the time that I have a soft spot for. English, Biology, the idyllic surroundings of the school including the beautiful backdrop of the grassy playground and the tranquil breeze passing through the place especially during the rainy seasons and the cool winters, Masush Rencelaw (Rushma Florence or S. L.), the library, and the Army school truck for the daily commute to school).
No small matter this
I fear I maybe am sounding like someone who is being a foolish know-it-all faulty in the head (or holier-than-thou) and is coming across as slightly disgruntled, but I assure you that it is not the case. Just like any teenager, I too have learned my share of lessons from what Life had or has in store for me. All life is a learning experience. This much I’ve understood that Life presents just one golden chance for you to have it, never again is it going to come to you if you had managed to evade it the first time around. Life is all about one good chance that you can avail of, nothing more nothing less. Does it sound unnecessarily intellectual? Maybe it is. I hope you guys will find your redemption and are already living a long happy cheerful life. That’s the spirit, people.
Friendship? Okay, Fine, Whatever
One day, I ventured to say, just for the heck of it, what I’d like to become in my life: the kind of career I’d like to take up. I quipped: “an ASTRONAUT” and I didn’t baulk one bit when I said that. I uttered the words as simply and straight-faced as I could muster in front of a beehive of intelligent watching eyes and clever heads. Immediately, I expected laughter from them and then thought maybe a round of verbal scorns will ensue from their mouths while also pulling their faces cursing inwardly. But no, nothing of that sort had happened. Laughing their hearts out could have been an appropriate response to my quip. I was kind of disappointed because I was, in all my honesty, anticipating good laughs because anyone saying “an ASTRONAUT” was supposed to be a funny thing, especially when we are mostly accustomed to hearing Engineering or Medicine as standard career choices. They didn’t laugh, they scowled.
I watched their faces: they looked strangely glum and kept blinking at me in disbelief as if I have said something they never expected in the first place, as if becoming an Astronaut was their entitlement, not for others to even dare think about it. Expecting others (read the ‘Humble Lot’) to even say something like that, is, to them, totally uncalled for. How foolish things were with them. Thereafter, realizing that the Arrogant Lot thought too little of other peoples’ abilities, I ignored them. I surmised mentally that it would be an exercise in futility to correct their attitude towards others who were not from their group. And rubbing salt into the wounds, and I remember with a cynical ‘See-I-told-you!’ grin on my face, I quickly added a rejoinder: “First of all, a good human being and second of all, perhaps something for the world: maybe an astronaut will do or some such thing”.
Obviously, I decided to play it cool. As though becoming an Astronaut was like a cakewalk or angling in a lake to catch fish or something of that sort. Only it wasn’t, of course. Let that safely be said. But surprisingly, they took the bait! While I knew that they didn’t really think I was capable of becoming an Astronaut or something, (and the feeling is mutual anyway), what got their tongue was the proverbial cat because they couldn’t come up with such a great thing to say! Tsk tsk! What a shame.
But in all honesty, I expected a good cackle among themselves, but no, not even a hint of it came forth. No one laughed or snickered. They simply rolled away from me, frowning. That’s when I understood that they were not really ‘friends’; they were egotistical, puffed-up with pride classmates (the Arrogant Lot) with practically little sense of humour and zero promise of friendship. I could also make out if any of them were friends with others in the true sense of the word, they were not. At school, friendship was not of their concern: If anyone happens to get a little chummy or slightly more friendly, that would happen very rarely though, with someone, outcomes the rebuke “Tu full free ho jara mujhse!” from their mouth. That’s how mean they were, always abhorring familiarity or close companionship with one another. Due to some kind of depressive mentality that was, I suppose, inherent in them, part of their upbringing, insecurity, cynical mania of their mind-set not used to making friends easily when there is someone to make friends with, they became simply incapable to form a friendship with anyone.
Sadly, a lifelong friendship was not something they were born desiring. Instead, they choose to fool themselves with a momentary flux of passions and desires, night and day, year by year, hankering after “good marks”, feeling needlessly superior, mad with ignorant ambition, snubbing possible friends, and above all career-mongering – all of that mounted upon their teenage heads like crowning glory! Poor ruddy folks!
For two long years, their sole agenda was to study, with zero likelihood of making good friends with anyone present in class. Studying well, impressing teachers, and getting “good marks” are all academically fine but don’t tell me they were not affected by the fact that they ended up with not a single friend. Were they of the opinion that friendship comes in the way of studies and that they’ll not be able to get “good marks” to varnish their report card with or build “good careers” if it is given undue precedence? Does it mean that friendship is a cheap little thing one should avoid at all costs? WRONG! Oh poor fellows, what do you know? Friendship is sublime, and you guys had to shirk it as if it was a lowly plague. Don't worry, I’ve given “good marks” to almost all of you chaps for not giving due importance that our fallow kind of friendship deserved! Tell me, can’t Friendship and Studies exist side by side? Like friends, if you like? So very sad is the reality of my student life with you fellas that I’ve now ceased to dwell on this woebegone-ish pet peeve.
I don’t mind sounding a little vainglorious and proud here, but I think I realize that thinking back to those two ‘friendless’ years could cause a torrent of heartaches and heartbreaks for me to deal with, so I don’t dare. Of late, I have been incessantly trying to train my mind to remember less and less about all of my class fellows who have been once a part for two undeniably wonderful years of my life in the good old forgotten central school which is no longer in existence, however, none of my attempts was successful. I don't have anything more to say. Maybe just a few lines more and I’ll be finished narrating this doleful tale of mine.
(A confession: I had a lot going on in my life at the time that I have a soft spot for. English, Biology, the idyllic surroundings of the school including the beautiful backdrop of the grassy playground and the tranquil breeze passing through the place especially during the rainy seasons and the cool winters, Masush Rencelaw (Rushma Florence or S. L.), the library, and the Army school truck for the daily commute to school).
No small matter this
Had they been really good friends they would have surely smiled, chuckled, giggled, and laughed, and seeing everybody snickering at my silly gumption would, I thought, make for a deeper kinship to sprout amongst us like wonderful flowers of bonhomie I had so much desired. But what followed was quite the opposite. They didn’t even giggle or pass entertaining remarks or hooted. They just moved away from my bench without saying anything at all, suddenly getting disinterested and aloof. Considering the circumstance, the least bit they could do was say perhaps something decent and then move away if they had to. For any student, it is quite a troubling feeling to deal with, right? In my time as a school student, I had dutifully weathered such daily tempests of Shakespearean proportions. No, I ain't joking.
That day I was bitterly disappointed. At the day's end, I slowly realized while I walked back to the Army school truck waiting to drop me back home that my two years in the central school is not going to produce any friends. I couldn’t help but accept the kind cruelty of the reality that I was going to be by and large (just a little hope there still) friendless during the two significant years of my life in that idyllic school.
Little wonder then that I left that school in a state of moaning heartbrokenness that had slowly and achingly subsided long after I had joined college. But elegiac memories of that school keep tugging at my heart now and then. And I am happy that it still does.
By Arindam Moulick
* “Baje Sargam Har Taraf Se” is a video song that used to be played on the Doordarshan television channel back in the year 1989.
Disclaimer: This blog is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
That day I was bitterly disappointed. At the day's end, I slowly realized while I walked back to the Army school truck waiting to drop me back home that my two years in the central school is not going to produce any friends. I couldn’t help but accept the kind cruelty of the reality that I was going to be by and large (just a little hope there still) friendless during the two significant years of my life in that idyllic school.
Little wonder then that I left that school in a state of moaning heartbrokenness that had slowly and achingly subsided long after I had joined college. But elegiac memories of that school keep tugging at my heart now and then. And I am happy that it still does.
By Arindam Moulick
* “Baje Sargam Har Taraf Se” is a video song that used to be played on the Doordarshan television channel back in the year 1989.
Disclaimer: This blog is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please make your comments here:......