I went to BSS yesterday after almost four years and little did I know that the place where I spent some fourteen years would look so strange. As I scurried through the first floor corridor I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A string of memories flashed through. It was here I was thrown out of the classrooms most often and it was here that I took the trophy for scoring highest in maths with a burgeoning happiness one Sunday evening. That was way back in class three, yes I still remember. School always brings back these mixture of feelings, tears and smiles at the same time.
I always wanted to come school, even with fevers simply because I never wanted to miss out one single thing. It was only in primary classes that I realized BSS is my second home. And why not it was here where I got my first friends, it was here that I realized that lunch breaks are not only for having lunches, but for enjoying the rides down at the park and it was here where I got some of the happiest moments like winning the 'washing day' race in class two. I simply loved the primary section, that toy library, those western music classes, Anuradha mam, Sampa mam and everything that falls within. But going to seconday is yet another thing, that excitement, that anticipation, that cold feet, that feeling of growing up.
I loved sahana mam from the very first day in class five. She used to teach us English. It was through her I realized that English is my first love and not maths. Sahana mam once read out christmas carol to the whole class and only that she didnt tell us the climax. She asked us to go through the book. It was in class five that I started reading books, feluda or blyton whatever reached my hands first. It was in class five I met my lifetime friends, Mohana and Payel. It was in class five that I actualy understood the meaning of friendship for the first time. Class five meant yet another thing, yes sports day, cheering our own houses, praying for them. That first feeling of togetherness.
As I strolled along I realized how most of the things changed, even how the wooden desks and the old blackboards got replaced. The corridors now looked shinningly beautiful, adorned with bright flowers all over. And the whole building has been painted white with pale blue border which in our times was bright red. Each floor now has a name. I stopped in front of class eleven Science B for a minute. I saw a group of girls grappling with each other and then falling into sudden childish giggle. I stayed at that moment for quite a long time staring at those girls almost blankly realizing somewhere here I belonged years back, somewhere amidst pritha mam' chemistry classes, amidst chaki mam's scoldings and among those wonderful moments with the craziest bunch of buddies, moments that one could never let go.
I recalled the last day in school, cutting that chocolate cake, dancing with the whole class, clamouring for no reason at all. But like others I did'nt cry as I knew that a part of me will always be here, somewhere in the basketball court, somewhere in Dutta mam's history classes or somewhere in these corridors.
Then suddenly the moment got lost as I saw a very lanky girl standing behind me with sparkling eyes. Stuffing something in my hands she ran away. With curious eyes I somehow managed to check that paper and there it was with her name written underneath. I almost went numb, some moments that probably remain priceless.
I recalled the last day in school, cutting that chocolate cake, dancing with the whole class, clamouring for no reason at all. But like others I did'nt cry as I knew that a part of me will always be here, somewhere in the basketball court, somewhere in Dutta mam's history classes or somewhere in these corridors.
