I was sitting outside my hindi classroom, by the canteen, with my mom. My dad had gone to find something in, im guessing he wanted to find a place for me in the classroom. It was the first day of school, i remember it so well. When i returned back home my mom was really mad at me because i went to the tamil class instead of hindi.
She really wanted me to study hindi. She was an expert in the language having passed her prathmik exams. Thinking about it i now realize why i never learnt hindi.
I took hindi till i was in the seventh standard. From my eighth i learnt french. I loved the teacher, the friends and especially the classroom. There was only one french teacher in my school, so students of all sections were sort of mixed up during this class. It was the best time of the day. Students overflowed from every bench, checking out MRS. PEREIRA’s pretty smile.
I loved going to school. Not a fan, but i still enjoyed the ups and downs of a 12 Year-long life.
I fell in love, with a few men, a woman, some teachers, we sold gold, we bought fancy-ass phones. We drank beer in school, we fought with the hostelites, won in fashion shows, acted, fought, jumped, ran, hid, prayed, swayed, went to nightclubs, and faraway drives. Ate the world and we were still not satisfied.
School was a time, when the thirst for fun began. Fun for no reason. Meaningless, shameless, prideful dangerous living. Dangerous for its creed and crude forms of resolutions. To play with rules. To escape school. To escape the painful hours of education?
Most of us took home science and psychology and clothes designing as our major study in twelfth std.
Twelfth std is the secret of my school.
the in between year between knowing what to do and being told what to do. School was being told what to do. It was a mesmerising time, I was mesmerised by the friendship and not knowing what was going to happen next sort of feeling. I had really good friends back in school. Friends who don’t tell each other we’re friends. Friends who plan every single move to absolute continuum.
A continuum of fun and danger. We liked being dangerous. We liked taking control. We liked building stories about each other to teachers. Mostly it was just me. I build stories. It’s what I do. Whatever I did, I never rat about each other. It’s just that I liked telling teachers that I write for magazines and that’s how I got the money to buy a phone.