Friday, August 21, 2009

never too late. . .

I sang the Sishu Griha school song today. Lustily and tunelessly. Then I went on to all the other songs we’d sing according to which day it was. . . I needed to. I needed to see whether I remember the lyrics, the tune. . . thankfully I did.

Then I read my school diary from cover to cover. Basu aunty used to force us to get the most mundane things signed, I noticed.

Our first term exams began on the 16th of August 2007 with hindi, in which we had chapters 16-21 in Chandragupt and Seema Rekha, Vijay ki vela, and Lakshmi ka Swagat . . . English was on the 28th wherein we had Acts III, IV, V of Julius Caesar and “The Cloud”, “After Apple Picking”, “Tithonus” and “The Diverting History of John Gilpin”. . . funny how we had no short stories for this exam.

Kundhavi wrote my final exam timetable for me. It’s there in her unmistakable neat script at the back of my diary… the last time that we wrote an exam in Sishu Griha.

The only time Ajitha aunty has ever given me a “good” in any paper was when I got 24 on 25 in some grammar test. Then she cut 5 marks from another paper and I remember being rather rude to her about it then. Now I’d give anything to have her back again.

Basu aunty didn’t realize that I wrote one of my tests in my EE test notebook . . . it was a map marking test. I was always pathetic at that. I miss topography though. .

I just saw my 9th grade Renaissance project. The cover page is hideous but I remember being rather proud of it then… the project is rather unremarkable, but Plaboni aunty wrote a pleasing “good and informative” at the end of it, and that works for me!

I got 11.5 on 20 in a Biology test once and Sujatha aunty wanted me to “learn all theories and facts properly”. . . the test was on Genetics. I still remember that hypertrichosis is a Y-Chromosome linked disease.

My math test notebook is a jungle of 60%s. Janaki aunty never gave up on me though. .. she told my mother once (when I wasn’t there) that “Children like these strike only once, I am waiting for a centum in March 2008." I’ll always be sorry that I didn’t deliver.

I remember the class in which Hema aunty caught me eating peanuts. Then another time when she kicked us out of class because we hadn’t got our physics workbook. The next Wednesday that I forgot, I went home in lunch break to get it. Sheetal and Neha once told me about how they went to speak to her regarding a test paper (electricity part 2) and she told them that I was the only one in the class who understood the chapter while she screamed at me for not getting the household circuit right. That is the highest praise I have ever received from anyone. But, when she announced in class that she doesn’t care about our marks so long as we love the subject, I truly began loving her. I’ll always like physics and it is only because of this one person.

If I survived the vagaries of 10th grade, it is thanks to Renu aunty. Apart from being an awesome teacher, she was always so approachable and one always walked away after a conversation with her, feeling more at peace.

There! I just saw an ancient Hindi paper popping out. I got 3.5 on 6 in some class test. Anila aunty was the epitome of fun. She cracked random jokes, said weird stuff, made the whole class kneel down and generally ensured that we love her.

We moaned so much about EE. On numerous occasions Sheela Aunty told us (me rather) that our negative attitudes aren’t helping any, but we continued grumbling. How she managed to teach such reluctant students I really don’t know but she sure did succeed!

What makes my experience at Sishu Griha what it is, is not just the staff, but the class that we were. I’ve had my ups and downs with you folk but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned how much you mean to me. We’ve grown up together and I have unforgettable memories with every one of you.

I know this is more about our teachers than anything else, but I never have truly paid tribute to them. . . well, they say it's "never too late". . .

I don’t know why I wrote this. I don’t know why this queer feeling of nostalgia gripped me. I don’t know why I am feeling so “homesick” a year and half after leaving school, but there you go.
I just needed to write out memories. . .

Peace, ho! Caesar speaks.