Trrriiinnnggg… the alarm breaks the silence of the room. Mom’s relentless nagging or a mug of water used to do the trick: waking me up. And it was time to go to school.
Every single day in primary school was different — scratching, biting, kicking, stealing pencils and other stationery, playing with trading cards, standing outside the class as punishment, shorts for uniform, making promises and swearing upon every small deed…
Recesses were the best part of the day when finding new best friends was a daily business. Running around pulling down pants and hairs, sharing lunch boxes, discussing WWE, talking behind the class monitor’s back, imitating the teachers’ unique vocabulary and naming them was complete fun! The fear of not completing the home work, notes to parents for not completing homework, getting caned, punishments were dreaded but the degree of happiness when the peon announced that the concerned teacher was absent was more than winning a billion dollars.
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The higher classes, when we were growing up, were a challenge in their own way whether it was studies, sports, chasing crushes or trying to be popular… Those were days when everyone’s true love changed every other day, where silly plots were planned, where jealousy was at its peak, where bunking classes was a lifestyle, where the safest spot to avoid a class test was the sick room, where fiercest rivalries were manipulated, where a single piece of samosa was shared by 25 people, where getting a girl’s phone number was the fiercest quest, where climbing up the school walls and running away received accolades, where fights started getting brutal and where hiding the mark sheet was a necessity.
Those were truly the best days of our lives.
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