A Tribute to my school........

I went to school today to collect my marksheets. As I walked across the stretch of sand that led to the school building, I was twinged with pangs of nostalgia. I thought about those days when I sported the prefect-badge and strutted around the school exuding an air of confidence and authority. The memories came crashing down on me, as I smiled at the familiar faces that now had a distant, faraway look in their eyes. I further made my way down the long corridor, which was mottled with a certain familiar faces that all stared at me. Some whispered. Some smiled. I had a customory smile plastered on my face, as I walked down the endless corridor that was so silent that I could hear my own breathing. That corridor had always been my favorite. It invokes pleasant memories of the eleventh grade, when our class was labelled the 'Noisiest class'. That corridor reminds me of slipping out of classes, sneaking in when no one was looking, meaningful conversations with special people who have made a difference in my life, bunking classes and having no place to go, being a dutiful prefect during school assemblies, conversations with teachers, some whom I liked, and some I didn't get along with, sharing Pepsi from the canteen, sucking on smuggled-in Fun oranges, turning my nose up at the gang of sweaty guys who crowd around the water-cooler after playing football in the field. I yearn to enter the eleventh-grade classroom, but it is locked. The eleventh grade classroom is my favorite. I sat in the front bench, right next to the window, where I would look out and stare at the field during exceptionally boring Economics classes. Sitting in the corner had its own advantages. I often sent smses during classes (I attended very few classes back then), and would whisper to the person sitting next to me and the people behind me. We never did our work. Fat accounts textbooks were untouched and were used as pillows to rest our heads on. Free periods ensured that the class was always empty. The classroom was perennially filled with excited screaming students hooting away and kicking the football around, throwing chalk, and well, there were even ink-fights and water-fights. Classes were never taken seriously. Half the time, we'd bunk classes, and the very few classes that we DID attend were spent sending smses under the desk, listening to music in the last row and scrawling our names on the much-abused benches in fancy calligraphy. Eleventh-grade was fun. We were all a bunch of people who didn't look too far into the future, who lived for the moment, and who had no idea what it would be like stepping out. It was something very few of us even considered. We went about chasing butterflies and building sand castles in the air. At that time, nothing mattered.

The eleventh-grade annual exams, however, were a shock to all of us, and the aftermath of it was even worse. Following the final exams, we lost a person who was the quittissential element of our class, a loved one. Suddenly, not everything seemed all that rosy as it did. Gone was the laughter and the hooting. We were too shocked to even shed tears. That incident taught us the value of life, and that it takes just seconds for a card house to come crumbling down to nothing. It sent out a message that we were all born for a purpose, to make a difference to the society. It wasn't all about coming to school, bunking classes, and wallowing in merriment. The other side of it had always been left unexplored.

Twelfth-grade began, and suddenly, things weren't the same again. The merriment mellowed down, and people were infused with ambition. Some were still scarred from the incident, some even sardonic about the whole thing, but there was a very flimsy thread that held everyone together. Suddenly, that flimsy thread broke. Meaningful friendships turned into superficial hi-byes, people had fall-outs, there were ego-clashes, people were out to get each others backs. There was fierce competition among a few. They wanted to do well, even if it meant stepping on other peoples' toes. A couple of them slacked away, and indulged in various other activities that kept them happy. Hearts were broken. Friendships seemed to have acquired a very empty meaning to it. Superficiality continued to prevail. I was lost in a sea of people, who suddenly seemed to be very different. Or maybe, I was very different from the rest. I sought solace in studying and books, and decided to keep to myself. I didn't want to play the game that everyone else was playing. I had too much to lose and nearly nothing to gain. These new friendships that replaced the meaningful ones, had no foundation, and were built on sipping frappes in coffee pubs and discussing other people and spreading rumors. Suddenly, school didn't seem like the home it had once seemed like.
It was more of an obligation to go to school. I sat in the front bench and was glued to my seat almost always. I often skipped lunch, and when I was exceptionally hungry, I ate lunch hunching over the Accounts book. I loathed studying, but I had nothing else to do. I refused to let myself get drowned in the sea that everyone else was swimming in. I was happy being the loner I never was, keeping to myself and offering a smile and comforting words to anyone who needed it. I started counting the days for school to end. I had been happier before. The whole year carried a lot of bitter memories, and a ton of loneliness that I had made myself get accustomed to. Friends were only the people I did Accounts with and discussed school subjects with. I never really could bring myself to discuss movies, people of the opposite sex, music, food, and the like. Everything seemed so immaterial, so artificial. There was something more I had in mind, something special. Someone whom I could share my dreams and thoughts with. But that never happened, and at one point, I was too engulfed in solitude and had grown to enjoy the company of myself. And then suddenly, the exams came and went. School ended as soon as it had begun.
I felt a sense of loss as I took off my uniform for the last time, knowing that I would never wear it again. That was when it hit me that I had to attribute my whole being to my school. I entered ninth-grade as someone shy, scared and wanting to please people. But then school taught me that one cannot please everyone, and that one cannot rely on anyone else for support. One should establish their own standard of principles and abide by them, irrespective of what other people say. One needs to stand up for what they believe in and take things in their stride.
And I exited the school, thinking that I would next visit this place as an ex-student, but I'll always carry with me the memories of this school. It is, after all, the place where I grew to become the person I am.

nothingness

It took me four months of hardwork and a ton of loneliness tinged with desperation, to return to this place. I've been sucked into a vaccuum of nothingness at the moment, where I am left with just an unfamiliar hollow feeling that wrenches my gut, followed by the occassional jolt to reality. Then, i return into that empty shell and continue living a mechanical existence.
People rarely matter to me anymore. But surprisingly, what matters is not what you get, and what doesn't matter, is the only thing you're left with, the only thing you're forced to cling on to, much as you want to let go. And when you do, finally let go, you find yourself sinking into a bottomless abyss.
as i am sucked into nothingness, i let my mind meander into the tiny, forgotten specks of my life that lie buried under those memories that are worth cherishing. then, i try to put together the pieces of the puzzle, and yet, i am left with an incomplete picutre.