Thursday, February 6, 2014

Memories of my Alma Mater...

The other day, I read on Facebook, the electrifying lyric of my school anthem, and was quick to travel down memory lane. There’s so much to be reminded of and so much to talk about. After all, those will always be the best days of my life.

Like any other kid, I too had moments of fear and jealousy. Fear because of the ruthless discipline enforced upon us by the school management, and jealousy because I had friends who went to other schools that seemed more tolerant than mine. The prayer meeting every morning at the ‘Sanskriti Bhavan’ (school assembly hall) was a frightening exercise. You had teachers who appeared hungry to penalize students who could be seen breaching discipline. It could be as silly as an imperfectly angled school badge on the shirt or a whisper to a friend while walking to the hall. The next thing you would be seen doing was standing outside the classroom holding your ears while the entire school sang the national anthem inside the hall. Many years on, when I look back at those mornings, all I can do is smile and thank my teachers for being as strict as they were.



The fear-factor was furthered by the breed of class monitors. They would be ‘agents’ planted by the teaching community in every classroom, and rewarded handsomely for spying on the class. If you had your name logged in the monitor’s book for any breach of discipline especially during the lazy time between two lectures, even god couldn’t save you from attracting heavy punishment. While some of the punishment would be insulting, some others could be physically challenging! As we grew up, we turned thick-skinned, and a sense of daredevilry in some of my friends was quite visible. On one occasion, a friend carried into the class a cute kitten wrapped in a bag. A boring lecture was going on when we could hear a faint animal cry. Soon, the kitten was let out. You had this scared poor thing who didn’t know where to go. It kept maneuvering in between our legs, and finally jumped out of the window.

I miss playing ‘football’ with wood cuttings at the Sanskriti Bhavan before the school hours commenced in the morning, except before exam seasons when the hall would be filled with benches in preparation for the tests. I miss playing real football in the plush green school ground. On days when the school would surprisingly set us free early, we would gang up and play cricket for hours at the nearby ‘Gandhi Ghaat’. I would occasionally go to the neighboring library and read story books and comics.

I’m proud I shared the bench with some of the brightest talents of my time who broke many records at the board exams, mathematics Olympiads, quiz shows, debates, and also other extra-curricular activities. I miss fighting for a pie of the table tennis facility and I miss those funny quotes by our teacher during the ‘physical education’ class. I’ve had the privilege to learn various subjects from some of the finest teachers. While some were truly boring and uninspiring, some others knew how to explain complex equations in lucid terms through real-life examples. They made learning real fun.

That was also the time when some of my friends started falling for girls they thought were beautiful. Musical greeting cards, flowers and letters – love was in the air. Everyone was equally naïve, and nobody knew what love was. But it was the ‘in thing’. After all, every Bollywood hero was busy wooing good looking girls! That was the time when to me, Madonna was in her prime, and Princess Diana was a living embodiment of grace. Since we had separate class sections for boys and girls, the leisure period was the only legally allowed time to search for our Madonnas and Dianas. I witnessed the birth and death of many poets, painters, singers, performers; all for the cause of celebration of love. The school canteen, though not quite aesthetically built, was a fun place to be in. Everything they sold was delicious. 

All my life, I shall remain a proud product of Netaji Subhash Vidyaniketan (NSV), the then best school in my state. When my mother used to tell me how she would love to go back to her school days, I wanted to grow up and get out of school as soon as I could. Now, I wish I could live those magical times and experience those priceless moments all over again. Only if I had a time machine! 

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