Schooldays... now a NOSTALGIA

Gone are those days when going to school was like any other a custom. The Koo sounds of Cuckoo roused me from deep slumbering. In a lethargic way, stumbling hither and thiter to find out my brush, new uniforms and shoes. Combing hair in side partition, were on trending on those days…

A warm hearted woman, who was never off from her duty of preparing the food stuffs for her children’s and husband roused at 5:00 at dawn, and showered love on us.

Often sitting behind my father, on an old fashioned scooter (CHETAK) and hanging the water bottle round the neck; with a firm grip around his belly and staring to and fro, to find out something strange was a unique fun which couldn’t me measured...

On reaching the school gates, carrying the big hefty bag on little shoulder’s to the classroom situated on 3rd floor, used to gasp and perspire all over … Some of the staff members often lend their hand towards me, but for diurnal routine I just thanked them for their nature…

PARENT TEACHER MEETING (P.T.M) were the deadliest and unacceptable days of my life. As to get prepared for hearing innumerous of complaints from different teacher’s. The night before the next day; was a sleepless night and a meeting held amid parents and son; as to who would attend the forthcoming meeting? Mother was the first to give up, so then only person left was father! Leg's were shivering in fear, the moment we entered into the classroom, all eyes were on me, as a sign of WARNING; TU TOH GAYA BETA!!!

At evenings, playing cricket was utmost mandatory. Assembling all the possible children’s, doesn’t matters of age and uniting among themselves and divide into two teams was RULE… SARDAR VALLEBHAI PATEL ( playground). As you can see above, earlier the fields were formed into different pitches, but not that everyone has stopped coming, so there is no play and the grass has also grown… Sometimes also, when elder brother returns home we do have a match in dawn.

On above-mentioned, which apprised earlier, a man named SUMIT PATRA who has withered off his right arm, yet playing CRICKET is his biggest DREAM… A millions of salutes with a boundless of respect towards him, who taught me HOW TO PLAY CRICKET? Such type of Mavericks are a rare species found nowadays… And to be honest, he is the Captain of WEST BENGAL HANDICAP CRICKET TEAM..

I apologise for going off from the current topic, will return with his

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memoir in next article. Till then continuing with the ongoing:)

When usually, homeworks were in pending status, startling in anxious manner; the teacher’s face was covered into deep reddish brown, as if he had been beaten badly…“STAND OUTSIDE” shouting in hoarse voice which almost made me irritated. Giggling outside the classes for periods over periods, making weird sound’s of dog’s, cat’s even sometimes of hawkers, disturbing the classmates by teasing on their name’s, sitting on the last benches with open food stuffs so as to exchange with others amid the lectures. Gathering all students to form into TWELVE NUMBER... Yes OF COURSE!!! Mesmerizing crushes for minutes for having a glimpse amid lectures and with a sudden, turning the face so as a fear of getting embarrassed, summoning friends with a code in exam time to get the answers without being getting suspicious. Betting each other during IPL on their respective teams; picnics and excursions conducted from school. Of quiz competitions, raising hands were the first to get a certificate. Howling and fighting amidst classes, when teacher was unpredictably absent. Staying and gossiping at toilets over periods, as some of the teacher’s seemed to be boring also keeping an eye on the corridors. Keeping a pet name of teachers, to create a jealousy on their mind and finally soliciting the same teacher’s for grace marks… were all beautiful emotions we played…

Can’t hold too much as it would now be getting bored for you all and holding tears from the midst seems to be quite tuff. Though last year our classes were conducted in online; yet remembering the olden days now feels me pure nostalgic.

But at one point, I do blame to all parents, that the moment a baby turns into a toddler; parents start thinking about their future, leaving behind the fact that their kid has just set out their wings and hardly knows a word. I would just say that school, a platform where thousands of parents, dumps lakhs of money and sent their child to the best reputed organization even after lack of balance in savings. It doesn’t matter in which reputed school you sent, but one thing which matters alot is providing the best parenting towards your child. There are some parents who spend money lavishly on their children for their desires. A humble request to each of you to please decide on your steps before taking any decisions. Remember children’s are equal to FLOWER’S... Once it’s been hurted badly, it starts to Wilt…

BE CAREFUL, WITH YOUR STEPS

Signing off,

Subhajeet Patra.