Indian Diaries: Back to School

“Naimatma Balheenien Labhya.” (Perfection cannot be achieved by the weak)

-Credo of Modern School
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December 24th 2006 began early. It was the day when my high school alum met at school to play various sports against the school team. More than anything else for me, it was a chance to re connect with school and some of the long lost people.

As I drove inside Modern School at 8 am, I was looking more towards the buildings and side walks rather than the road ahead. Road? Yes, roads!! Modern School had done away with the characteristic red sand with bituminous roads. It looked horrible. I remember cleaning off red sand from my white shoes often in high school. It was so embedded into the red brick school structure. Alas, it was no more!

After meeting some of the soccer team players and being cornered to the benches as an extra, I decided to take a round of the school as the game began. I walked into my 9th class in Sir Sobha Singh block. The smell of the class was overpowering- as though I had walked through an invisible wall into another era. As I sat down on one of the wooden benches in the front, as was the practice in those days. I could almost see Mr. Binju and Mrs. Batra teach Sanskrit to us. Mudit or Gautam used to sit besides me most of the times. The board had some figures from the chapter 'Similar Triangles'. I wanted to cry and share by excitement- but the building was haunted. Nobody watched but it felt great to come back to the same spot after more than 9 years.

Walking towards the Platinum Jubilee Block (PJB), I noticed the nice canteen right outside where the school buses used to stand near the Principal's home. That was the best thing to happen after I left school. PJB was grand as usual- marble slabs in the washroom were broken, all brands of shoes were imprinted on the white walls, wooden desks bore the brunt of student's creativity with permanent markers and pens, window panes were broken and the classes were now smaller in size than they used to be at our times. But, everything was forgiven- it was PJB- where half a decade back I spent my days juggling with mathematical formulas, chemical equations and laws of physics.

I moved onto see everybody's favorite spot in school- the banyan tree. It is now the saddest place in school. It once boasted of being the hang out point of most bunkers, frivolous couples and the random smoker- all so Modern. The earth around the tree was perfect for playing cricket and there was never a moment when a look at it had failed to put a smile onto any Modernite's face. The entire tree is now surrounded by concrete rocks dotted by the random bird-chicken-deer structures made from wrought iron. The tree stands alone calling us to hang from its aerial roots.

Met some old batch mates and the random person here and there. This is what was on the platter after the game- Gol gappas, aloo tikki, chat papri, chole bhature, paneer chilla, aloo sabzee and puri, pao bhajee, gajar ka halua and kesar pista kulfi. I shed all my inhibitions and hogged like a hungry dog. The mere thought of eating such delicacies satiates my taste buds right now.

Finally, it was the prize distribution ceremony. We had lost the game but got a neat certificate for the enthusiastic participation. Some exchange of phone numbers, big hugs and promises to stay in touch later everyone was ready to leave. As I walked back to my car, I did not know if I would be sitting on my junior class's bench again. I did not know then how my lost childhood was never coming back again. What I know for sure is how Modern School had shaped me into what I am today and how it is shaping the future of the country for generations now...