The School Journal #7 – The Repercussions of an Emotional Ripple
I took a lot of time, didn’t I?
I needed to. If not, I would reflect something too deep for anyone. I wanted it to dilute a bit.
This should be simply ‘repercussions’ you see, not the echoing blast.
This, all my people, is the last of this wonderful journal series. The concluding journal.
I thought I would make a really long, and a very detailed piece of memoir, but when I started typing this, I decided against it. I will make this short and precise. This is the post-credits for this wonderful episode of my life. It needs to be simple and neat.
Anything being written is dedicated to three women of the school: Sailaja Ma’m of Pre-primary, as good as my own aunt, Madhuri ma’am of Primary, as good as our own sister, and better than anyone, Sri Kanta’s mom, who took care of us for the whole year. This moment, Sri Kanta’s home became my own and we became a part of their family. Along with all these we really are in debut to two people: Saket’s mom, is the primal, who tolerated our rubbish for one year and fed us like her own: whose house became ours and whose son became our brother. She is one real angel walking in this town. And, we can’t thank Arjun sir enough, who took all the worst we gave and turned them into the best of us. His anger, we know is a brotherly affection towards us and we always sensed the care he took for us. He was, undoubtedly, the guardian angel of ours in Vizianagaram. Apart from those, I wish I would have one more chance to thank all the teachers and parents who made our stay a happy memory. Memory fades, I know, but the emotion they filled in me has changed a thousand things which would stay with me for really long.
So, all the thanking’s done. Shall we start the thing now?
“Finally, the 10th D2 is gone, man,” I was saying to Usha Kiran. “I don’t know what I am going to do now in this school,” he was patient, listening to my grieving. “The drive to do something fantastic for someone is totally lost man, I just wanna leave the place as soon as possible,” that was a rash comment, for I suddenly forgot every other student in the school and talked selfishly. But that was not it, the harshest of all the comments was about to come. “The school is a dead place for me.” I said, and he smiled, so did I, emptily.
The final exams were done. Everyone was confident enough that they did well in all the exams and particularly in English. I was more than happy. The duty I have come to execute was done. There was nothing left for me to do.
It was a love story. A beautiful one. It shall never happen again, and the same I gave a word to Roshni one day. She asked, once, when I don’t remember, “Sir, you should not be this close with anyone else,” she said. I laughed, “For sure,” I said, like promising. “Really?” she wanted me to ensure her. “Yes, why would I lie? No one will be you again for me,” I told her, and that is the truth.
The classes were done. The next year started. Ninth got promoted to tenth and I got two tenths again, along with an eighth and seventh. Eight and seventh classes are slow. I am not well-versed with dealing those little heads. I told them the stories possible, but apart from that, couldn’t make out much out of those classes. I was pretty mediocre. Apart from everything else, the sole fact that they are not 10D2 or 8D3 was too high. I just wanted to teach them whatever that was possible in the given time and leave. I didn’t want any emotional bonding with anyone, anymore. A love story with 10D2 is done and let it be for the year.
But then, the 9D3 and 9I (which became 10D3 and 10I by then) gave a tough fight to my stoned heart. It all happened with The Learning Carnival.
In The Learning Carnival – an event of Pre-Primary skill/craft exhibition was a fantastic event. Sadly enough that was the last of times when I worked with my most beloved of all, Sailaja Ma’am, but at the same time, it was the time when I saw something to hold on for the next few weeks. Arjun sir called me. (It was the time my glory was waning off in the school. Slowly all my duties are being transferred for the sake of next teachers being trained. Slowly I was becoming a nobody in the school and that was fine for me. There was no need for me to be a somebody. I did enough in the school. I marked myself in that place. I got my own students and then, great friends. Sri Kanta, Jagadeesh, Prathiba, Madhuri ma’am, Padmaja ma’am (another angel) and many more by then have become really close irrespective of what we are in the school. Usha Kiran and I were enjoying the privilege of being in the school, just with children and helping Arjun sir in building a few things.) So yeah, Arjun sir called me and said, “I will assign you two students and you have to train them as anchors for the event,” ha, I had mixed emotions; I got something to do now but, ah, I was lousy and I was lazy and I don’t wanna work anything that beside ‘teaching’. I already started having a good time with 9I and 9D3. Deepak was the one who started it. It was like the beginning of another lovely story. But the only sad fact was I that I am not going to stay there for the story to be complete.
I went and was waiting in an empty room and Bhavani ma’am came. She introduced me the two students whom I should be training. Sameera and Roshna, in which the latter girl would become more precious in the coming time. We went radical. There was no script. There was no seemingly proper practice. I talked with them, I made them talk with me, I made jokes and let them do whatever rubbish they want to do. Sameera is a cool girl; she went with the flow. Roshna was responsible. She still is. She used to be every tensed. She thought we were wasting a lot of time and that was partially true. But that was how I work. A lot of leisure. I love a lot of leisure. May be that is how I stay an artist. I do not feel the urgency for anything. It is all fine. It is alright. That was the mantra I taught to my 10D2; Chill + Relax = Chillax!
I made Roshna and Sameera walk all over the campus and made them talk about whatever they look at. Right or wrong or authentic, I do not care. I just want them to talk, and there is only one obligation; everything should be spoken in a highly praising/positive temperament. And this obligation, Sameera broke a hundred times. That was a happy time. Along with them, Lakshit, Yograj, Riya, Priyanka and many other students came close, in which, Pravalika would again stand out for the next future. Pravallika is a jmgsabavadbc woman, for I can’t describe her.
It was a time, I can’t explain why, the lowest point of mine ever. I slipped it off at Roshna accidentally, and she was worried about me.
About me. Hahah!
Worried about me! Haha!
Worried about the King of Amazons! Hehehahahah!
Anyway. We all together had a great time singing and eating all the stuff Lakshit used to suffice miraculously every evening. Three days passed by and then, when the event is on the next day, Bhavani went to the anchors to check how the things are going. I wasn’t there. By the time I went back, Bhavani was coming back from our practice room and I know something wrong has happened. She came straight towards me. She is one of those people who always tolerated my lousiness. She scorns at times, but always understands. A great friend in many a sense. “They don’t even have a script,” she said, like, screaming. “I know,” I said, trying to look inside the room. “They don’t even know what they are going to talk tomorrow,” she said again. Concern, anger, authority and despise mingled in one voice. “I know,” I said again. I am a peace person. She looked angrily at me and strode away. She’s going to report this to Arjun sir, I know.
I walked in and by the time I went in, Sameera was consoling Roshna and knowing my presence, they tried to cover up instantly, but Roshna could rub the tears off and not the redness in eyes. Hm. I went passive. That means, I was upset. “About the script?” I asked. “Nothing sir,” Roshna replied. “She said it for our own good. We really didn’t work anything,” she complained. Bhavani is her favourite teacher, why would she complain. Sameera explained me what has happened in an apologetic tone. “Sorry sir,” they said, “We let you down.”
“It is not you. It is I,” I said. But that’s not true. And what Roshna said was also not true. We weren’t wasting time. We were growing with time and they didn’t know it by then. It was a huge event. A very huge one. No kind of a script is going to cover it. No kind of a student can remember a vast script that would detail the event. That’s not a script-supportive event. That was a spontaneity-dependable event. That was what we were doing. But I went upset. I immediately got the itinerary and in one hour, even though the girls kept on claiming that the blame is not on me, we worked feverishly for one hour and did a three days’ work.
The girls were ready.
The event commenced.
Anchoring was a huge thing.
I personally got a thousand compliments that the anchoring was awesome and a few parents requested me to train their children too for the next events.
Sailaja ma’am was happy. So was I.
When I am writing all this, I consciously removed the trickles of 9I in it. For me, 9I was a new class. Totally. I didn’t get their spirit in the beginning, but the one who eased the class for me more than Saket was Abhinaya. Abhinaya, I simply miss the little girl. Even now. The class is filled with great students who are enthusiastic to learn anything that comes in their way. Revant, Sahil, Mohit, Lalit, Prasant, ah, great guys with great spirit. At the same time, it is an obscure class which is not easy to understand and get the pulse. I didn’t understand in the beginning what happening, but then, I got it, the spell was of Sri Kanta’s and the insanity of the class comes from him too. I was happy. They are already under a teacher’s spell. I went to the class as a lovable and informative teacher who entertains and nothing more. There were a lot of good things about the class, and I shall hold them dearly along with everything else.
The real rumble started when somehow the 9D3 got to know that I was leaving. They were moved. To mark an example, the reverence I find in the eyes of Ahmed and Sohan (in our batch) is the utmost, but I find the same reverence which I found in them in Govardinee, Arpita, Sonali and a few others in this batch. They tried everything to stop me, but I am sorry, I couldn’t stay. But the last days, I gave them everything that was possible to give. I talked about every important thing that was ever there. I gave them a few perspectives which were possible in the limited time, which, if they remember, would help them well. I couldn’t do anything much. I didn’t want to. For, I shouldn’t, as a person who would leave. Apologies!
But I hold all your letters and all your affection.
Our reign in the school was deteriorating as time passed by and it was clearly visible by the time we reached Udaan – the final annual day. I don’t remember much of it, for I wasn’t involved in anything. Rather, we were consciously put out for the school’s own good. We did our work and general teaching till the last one week. Arjun sir called again, and asked me to take up anchors training again and also gave me a job of teaching a Spanish song to the whole school. ‘Que Sara Sara’ was the song, which meant ‘Whatever will happen will happen,’ and I liked the theme. Some drama guys from Kolkata came who took over the event and it was well. Sonali, Keerthana and Rohit were the anchors and the time was good. Apart from energy-draining activities and works at school, everything else was great. There was a lot of student interaction and that was a great time again with all the kids. Along with Udaan’s preparations, I tried to visit my tenth classes as frequent as possible. 9I was often stolen by Sri Kanta, but I tried not to miss 9D3. This Deepak guy made a timetable for me through which I’ll teach for two days, and two days we should sing songs and the remaining two I will motivate them with my speeches and fun. That was well. Haha. Why to disappoint an eager lad? I said that was well! He even took me for cricket a couple of times, and he never flinches to hold my hand and drag me out.
I love you and I miss you, man! Your songs diary, I really miss it. Haha!
Ha. I thought this journal should not cross 1,500 words and it is 2,314 words already. Yes, anyway. In this tedious last days’ strife, one day I got a chance to teach my 10D2 again, when a few of my guys came to school and sat in my class of 9I. It felt good. That day all the students visited. A few were in tears again. A few were very happy. A few asked for blessings. A few took promises that I would be in touch. I remember Rishita telling me that she will start reading my book in the summer. I don’t know what she’s doing right now. That day Keerthi told me that she wouldn’t be in touch with me. No. She said, she would contact me after exactly five years, and I will remember it well, Keerthi, let us see, if you would. But I remember her suggesting me to eat properly, and she also gave me an option which seemed like ‘go to hell if you don’t wanna eat,’ haha! Afterall she was the one who signed my guitar specially after everyone, claiming her chance to even write a message for me on my music instrument. It says something like, “God will find a way,” kind of a thing which I don’t remember precisely. Anyway, having Vignesh, Happy, Leela, Tonish and others in class again was a great moment and most of them visited again in the function of Udaan.
Udaan is something that should be talked about. The most anticipated of ALL. The biggest of ALL. The prestigious of ALL. A dream of The Sun School. They all strove hard to make it perfect and yes, perfect it was. It was a hard work of not just one, but two months. It was a wait of three years. When it was all ready, the rains howled, dipping us in despair for an hour. I still remember: when it started destroying the decoration, in the beginning I was indifferent. I didn’t care much, but when I looked at all the students’, hm, I prayed with my heart, the rain should fade away. Bhanumati mam’s philosophical story demonstrating that anything diverse is also something good for someone else helped me a bit, but the solace the teacher provided walking behind me was what that really helped me out. Hm. Looking at the rain, I wished it would wane off and . . . It did.
What the school’s director, Mr. Anil Kumar sir said, “no storm or cyclone can stop the determination of Sun School,” was true to every minutest of the sense. I can’t judge the man. But strong he is. Very strong. The event was a success. I was glad.
The most memorable of the event would be I taking Keerthana to Sarojini ma’am and saying that such kind of a girl is the cutest of all. But Sarojini ma’am retaliated funnily by saying there are many little boys who are much cuter.
Ah, nah, nothing cute than her.
As this was all about the school, there were things happening outside the school the 10D2 guys became bigger and started coming to my home frequently, which turned out to be a trouble for many parents. Abhishek took the lead first and many followed later. They talked out everything that’s in their heart. School issues, personal, family, these ‘attraction’ things and all. Haha! I did what I could in the last days. Even in the school, most of the girls opened up at me about their personal strife and asked for my advice. People whom I can help, I did. Others I suggested. A few, I warned. Dohya, the closet of all took the most of the time. It took her a year to talk to me about herself. But by then I was waiting with an all-knowing attitude. I was not surprised when she talked to me for several minutes running to hours. I eased her as much as possible, and I wish she’d stay strong for all the later time.
In the last days, Janaki Ram became the closest of all. To him, I was a patron and with me he remained, sharing everything of his. I know everything that exactly runs in his mind and heart. Along with him Sravathi got close and so has Vineetha, who till date starts her day by sending me a good morning without fail. I should check my phone now!
I even remember Neha, who stays near my home, whose face at the same time shows happiness and sorrow when she looks at me. Joy that she met me accidentally on the streets and sorrow that she wouldn’t see me again.
I miss you too Neha.
And Janaki! Haha!
Ha, I don’t remember how the school ended. It was done. I don’t exactly remember what happened the last day but we had a great time with all our favourite teachers. I don’t have anything to say, except that this journal has to end here.
I am not moving on. This is not just a memory. This is life.
I am glad, I have the grace to record all this in words. I could bring these alive. Thank you so much all the gods who bestowed your grace upon my pen.
And you people. . . You are awesome. I told you this a thousand times and I am going to tell you again. I am not lying. No. You people are really awesome. I am in no position to bless you. But then, I wish and I would pray, that you shall be all pleasant and peaceful, and all happy all the time. You are better than many, and you are going to be the best. Hey Rohan, reading this? All you people are going to be the best, man. Dohya? Reading? Gunjhan? Charan? Prabhav? Priya? See, everyone, for I can’t take all the names here, Varshita? Harini? Prasad-uuu? And oyyiiieee Sri Priya? Sakshi? Reading this? Happyyyy? Haha. . . Sravya? Reading this? Srija? Kavya? Leelaaaa? Ha, enough, man. I am already moved. My man!
Ha. My god. How much I wish I can take one more class to make you all laugh at once.
I want your happy rumble to cloud my ears.
Signing off, guys!
All my duties are done.
10D2 is the best, man!
For all the songs we’ve sung, for all the smiles we’ve shared and for all the love we’ve reared. . . I genuinely, I love you all!