The author of this blog stopped writing here long time back. The posts published here embarrass her now. And hence, there is very little chance that she is going to write here again.

This blog is hence declared to be in a state of COMA.

My first day of school

Dad and I enter the school gate, as probably the custom is, me holding dad's index finger so tight as if I'll never leave it. Wearing a brand new uniform and a dead-nervous expression on my little face, I am determined within to not let dad go, how could I even think of that, afterall, it was an alien place for me, with totally alien people. No, I don't like them. Who are they! Don't leave me dad, please stay. I don't feel good. Can we just go back home? Can we? please?

      All that, the bundle of thoughts storming my mind as we both walk the path from the school gate towards the classroom. 

      Now, we both stand outside that wing of the school building which houses all the classrooms. I can sense dad trying to take his finger out of the curl of my tiny fingers. Realizing this, the grip of my fingers begins to tighten, but in vain. Dad is preparing to leave now, to leave me here, in this unknown world. I hate it! Handing over the bag and the somewhat traditional Milton water bottle, giving me those typical instructions, that, quite amazingly, haven't changed in all these 19 years of my life. I am still told to take good care of myself, pay attention in class, listen to the teacher, not indulge in any kind of mischief, be an obedient child, have my food on time, keep taking water to stay cool etc etc. Honestly, even then, when I was just about to take my first step into the outer world, those instructions seemed as obvious to me, as they seem today, after no less than 19 years. And the funny thing is, even today, I often make silly mistakes because of my ignorance towards those very seemingly 'understood' and 'obvious' instructions. Like today, I wasn't paying much attention to those instructions even then, not only coz they seemed pretty much logical and hence obvious, but also coz my concern at that time was not how I was going to take care of myself in this new place, but rather, why the hell do I have to be here anyway and how can I convince dad to take me back to mom, quickly!

      But nothing is gonna work. It is well decided, or is it a secret plan of my parents and that teacher, who has just come out of the classroom to receive me?I gaze at him for long as he makes his way back to the gate while the devilish (yeah that is what I call you, if you try to separate me from my parents, get it?) teacher holds me back, trying to take me into that classroom filled with those silly kids. Who are they! Why are they looking at me like this! Yeah am crying miserably I know, but so what! As if they all readily and cheerfully stepped out of their homes to come here. As if they all bravely said to their parents, "yo mom, dad! don't you worry! Am gonna enjoy here, yeah, I will! Take care, see you soon!!".....blah blah.... HUH! 

      It hurts so bad to see dad going so readily inspite of me crying my heart out. Interestingly, I didn't cry too loud. But I cried miserably still! Unending tears, eyes wide open, out of shock and fear, brows raised coz of the same, suppressed sounds trying not to let the others know that am crying "like a" kid - a perfect blend of tears, fear, nervousness, unrest and grief. 

      Soon dad is out of sight, not out of mind for sure. And I stand helpless with the teacher, with no other option left, than to finally enter the classroom and sit with those ......arrghhhh!! how stupid they are......yeah, the other kids. CAN YOU JUST STOP STARING AT ME PLEASE? I just cried and it's embarrassing to cry in front of others. So please, let me try to get comfortable and prepare myself to sit with you morons!

    And hence the days begins, starting from the attendance, the subject periods beginning with " goooood morninnggg maaaam" and ending with the school bell. No doubt, getting back to home as soon as possible is the only thing running in my mind the whole day but the classes do succeed in diverting my attention sometimes. Like the drawing class, where the teacher asked us to draw a star. No one could do it too well, but I easily made a number of them, beautiful ones! Are the others too bad at it or am I too good? I'll choose the latter option, it gives me greater joy. I don't remember the rest of the day, but only that particular class, as the teacher had made the whole class clap for me as she applauded and I proudly stood holding that drawing facing the rest of the class. Being merely a part of the crowd was never my piece of cake, not till school atleast. I like to get noticed, MIND IT, for my talent. the teacher wasn't all that devilish.

      Whatever, the day's over now. It wasn't bad, but home is the best. Hey you school bus, be quick and take me home, I wanna hug momma! Quick!

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Tanay July 18, 2010 at 5:44 PM  

The old Sugandha (your writing talent I mean) is back when she talks of the old Sugandha. (You keep giving me the impression that you are a careless writer now)

This post was so touching and nostalgic. I would say THANK YOU for those beautiful memories... you described everything so magnificently... and you didn't forget the Milton bottle!!! I just recalled that only after reading this!

Even I used to cry a lot during early school days... I wonder how some children adjust so well and aren't uncomfortable a bit on the first day even...

So are we having a full autobiography here now, COURTESY someone else's concept? :P :P

SUGANDHA July 18, 2010 at 6:28 PM the "old Sugandha" is back! finally! yippee!! I am gonna try my best so that she stays, forever :D

THANK YOU (back) for those words, am glad that I did justice to this one piece. I am now reaffirmed of my statement, "when you write what you feel, the reader too can feel what you write!"

And yes, I didn't forget the classic Milton bottle, it was as much a part of my early school days as anything else.

And I don't see myself writing an autobiography anytime soon..that needs to be well organized, so that i don't end up tonnes and tonnes of pages, all with the "old Sugandha"gone. And if I do, it'll be to keep a record of my most special memories.

And hey, what COURTESY SOMEONE'S CONCEPT? HUH! This wasn't planned AT ALL!!!!!!! I dunno how I suddenly started and finished this in about an hour or two. And only after completing I remembered reading on a similar topic on your blog, that's it. Otherwise, it was as randomly struck an idea as it could be! Infact,I had thought of adding the next chapter to my first year wala post. But am glad this happened first.

And though am very honest and truthful in my above words, don't forget your plagiarism wali theory.
For others, it says,

Plagiarism of concepts is what runs the world. Not the plagiarism of content (Ok, it ain't all that good ki I remember it word by word! :P)

P.S: Thanks :D ;)

the shades of crayons... July 18, 2010 at 7:15 PM  

loved it gurl! :)
ma school dayz were running in front of i read the starting paragraphs!:):)

nice one (again) :)

Rinaya July 18, 2010 at 8:21 PM  

Its a lovely post really.. brought back memories that I didnt think I still retained :)
I however used to be a different type of gal tho..rather consoling doz who cried LOL
anyway gr8 work.. plz continue d saga :P

SUGANDHA July 18, 2010 at 8:56 PM  

Thank you both, Surabhi and Rinaya!!!Am glad that my post was successful in driving you both too into the flashback mode! :)

SUGANDHA July 18, 2010 at 10:33 PM  

@Appu- this kinda comment, wasn't expected from you :P

PRANAY August 19, 2010 at 12:48 AM  

its really reminded me of my school days.

Giribala December 4, 2010 at 8:13 PM  

Yeah, reminded me of my first few days in school!!!

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