...My school visit...

...My Classmates on the school roof...  ...My Classmates on the school roof...

Last month, I was feeling very low and guess where I retreated to? My school… And it was after 18 long years… It was the spurt of the moment that I decided to visit my school which contributes to a major chunk of my sincere and serious memories down the lane. Changes are evident, but sometimes spurious!  The old-man gatekeeper, Shravan was still there at the gate, yes alive… It was a PTM day and Independence Day too. The school was abuzz with parents accompanying their kids to the most dreaded sessions. But this time it was different… A strong confident look smirked on their faces in contrast to what we carried during our times. We were fearful and respectful at the sight of any teacher we encountered anywhere in the city. At the entrance, I saw a big, tall, fatso lady in the police uniform. My vehicle screeched and halted for a while to reconsider me being there on that day. May be some dignitary visiting the school on account of 15^th Aug and the lady part of the security? But when she turned her face towards me, I was astonished only to identify her as our PT mam. Once popular for not wearing a smile even on her marriage anniversary, she was at her humorous best engaging with kids, chuckling along with them. I envied those kids…I can see the old sycophancy being reincarnated into a pleasant cacophony… To my utter surprise, when she saw me, I was recognized by her…me being the sports captain of the school in our times helped, I guess!!! Couple of chit chats with her and I dashed into the school building viewing the school with a different paradigm now. The notice boards once inundated with the exam notices, science arts, were now replaced with Chetan Bhagat’s curriculum vitae; new computer rooms with state-of-the-art facilities; water purifiers in place of a cemented tanks we had during our times, so on and so forth. Without wasting any moment, I went straight to my classroom which housed us during our last year in the school. Blackboards, wooden seats with the iron grills, the window through which we peeped outside during the unfascinated discourses possessed a grand nostalgia. As I was passing through one of the many corridors, I tried hard to recognize someone sitting in a room designated for Vice-Principal. I felt that I knew her badly. I enquired from the peon standing outside the room and I was told that she was Ms Sumati Anand, our class teacher in Class XII. She taught us Chemistry, and believe me, not even a single student would dread to see in her eyes. After a wait of 15 minutes or so, I was permitted to see her. Earlier she thought that I was a parent of some kid, but when I touched her feet, her eyes lit up.  I asked if she could recognize me; she took some time, but recalled me. She ordered tea…the most dreaded teacher offering me tea was a paradox in itself!!! She got herself totally engrossed in comparison. She felt that we were best in our times as we would pay respect to our teachers, always obeyed them. But kids today don’t even have grudge against not performing it. I asked her about other teachers who were there still and I was told few names. I was on my way to meet our English mam, Ms Kum Kum Singh who was not less than a walking Xphobia to us. I touched her feet and can see her eyes drenched with tears… Tears? and that too in her eyes…? She then got drowned in conversation with the kids and their parents present in the room about the respect today’s children give to the teachers. She portrayed me as an epitome to all of them of the kind of students who existed some years ago and have now become extinct. I met few other teachers and everyone had the same point to kick start the discussion--kids today--and concluded at us being the best (A proud moment indeed for me and my batchmates!!!). I visited the most wanted place—playground; theatrical heaven--the auditorium; the Finance & Administration; the idli-vada canteen; tailoring shop--the nascent boutique; and pls don’t tell this to anyone--the washroom (then called ‘Toilet’)--a place which tantalized our intellectual nerves.  Not sure who is on the right side of the see-saw…BUT I still LOVE my school, ADORE my teachers and MISS my classmates.  My sincere gratitude and Thanks to our TEACHERS for their undaunting crusade of shaping us live and survive. We owe it to you all.  Happy Teacher’s Day