School life: An ocean of Memories – Naisargi Joshipura

Naisargi

We are quite familiar with the title now… Hope you enjoy the musings of this writer too.

 

 

 

 

SPECIAL MENTION ENTRY IN OIWC


So yes, Here I am. Reminiscing on the memory lane. Well, actually not. Mum just woke me up from a beautiful flashback I had this morning. The never-ending stretches, the wrappers of mouth-watering delectable stuffs, the noise and the poise. If I can elongate the sentence, I’d finish the whole excerpt in one. It is, indeed, too good to be true. The place of many incidents is my Alma mater, my school.

School. One word causing many happy hormones to arise and become happier. Imaginatively so. I am undoubtedly blessed to have the memories all intact. And although I’m one having a rather well-to-do command on my remembering capacities, School life is something where even the teeny tiny remembrances are neglected and emphasized upon, later. The scary walks to the Supervisor’s cabin, taking a little too long to fill the water bottles, throwing paper balls and stealing chalks. All the nitty gritty of the primary section of school life are really the building blocks for any human. Primary section has its own special and untouched place in my mind and heart. The most thrilling fun has to be occupying the chalks as one’s own, literally purloining them.

Sharing tiffins in the playground was always an epoch-making event, provided someone brought along something too tasty to share. Those days of playing a short-handed tug of war with the sweaters used to be the favorite pastime for us. Homework memories were somewhat copy-pasted in the literal sense. Each of the notebooks spoke and smelled of unity, innocence, sharpness and skills. Poets, Scientists, Doctors, Engineers, Teachers and much skilled personnel. Manifestation saw rise in those tiny hand writings.

As one phase of school life had been inhaled and lived by me this morning, Mum smacked my head lovingly and sent me to work. But memories are addictive. Once we trace their path, we return only after we have lived them to the fullest. I was absorbed in dwelling upon how did my teenage phase pass in school. Another chapter in the never ending precis began.

The “high school” tag was the decorative, highly designated and a tad too preachy among all primary fellow mates. Once the aspired-for position was obtained, each one of the then-primary tots became adolescent before one could say “adolescent”. To each his own, as is said. A wave of confidence and attachment emerged. Bunks were the thing. Inculcating them on a frequent basis was even cooler. With a more responsible identity, came notorious mischief. Encouragements were given by friends while the teachers insisted on favoring the studious lot. The secondary school memorabilia consisted of having low attendance, bullying some weaklings in a light manner and snacking up on various feasts in lecture hours. First crush, Secondary-sweethearts, Indecisive breakups and flings were the demented allowances in that age of ours. Hormones and Best friends quite complemented each other in those days. Friendships were attained, some broke and some even remained as being fair-weathered. This phase of school life had perspectively varied memories.

School life, as one often comes to vouch for, is the happy little flower in the dense garden of life. The gates, the classes that housed future visionaries, the mother-like care taken by the teachers, the lovely half days caused by over pouring rains and what not. School is the heaven on Earth. It’s also the haven that remains the birthplace for our lives ahead. I’d be clichéd in quoting so, that I’m blessed with the best memories of my schools, primary and a different one in the higher secondary-duration. To end with, I’d compliment the title as an apt one. Indeed, it feels like a dive in the memory lane, as I still keep traversing the Ocean of School life. Thanks for giving me an opportunity for reliving the best of the best memoirs.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s