Auld Lang Syne

When I think about it, my head must be a pretty shallow organ. I base this on the fact that whenever I have something new, it is almost bubbling at the top end and there are sirens and alarms going off, and voices screaming, "Write it down.. Tell someone.. Do something" or something like that.

And while I was intaking my daily required level of Bouncing balls on facebook, I was getting a series of Facebook notifications. Well you see, my housemates and me share this facebook thread which is basically the source of our daily gossip and masala. And it got me into thinking back to our school days and a vivid memory of this one day in our 'Bullies' dormitory where one of my friends actually suggested that I write down an account of whatever happened to us in those 8 years, a little 'Tin Fish' inspired idea (It's a book, for those of you wondering..).. Well, not being modest or anything, I cannot really do justice to all the memories we shared and neither will I try, because it will be all too much of the 'Well, it was funny at THAT time..' But I will dedicate this to all the wonderful characters I met in that wonderful school which we loved to hate then, but which each one of us now miss like crazy.

When I first joined Welham, I was the 'shy, timid girl who stuck out her tongue whenever she was embarassed, who turned beetroot red whenever she had to speak in public, and who did not really have much of a goal or anything, or as Mrs Chakraborty would put it 'a happy go lucky' kinda girl'.. In the 8years I spent there, much changed. I do not stick out my tongue anymore (some of you would be happy to know) and the beetroot red has sobred down to a more pinkish/reddish shade, but what those 8 years gave me was a sense of belonging and purpose. It was here that I found out so many things about myself, unknown talents and many more unnoticed flaws previously. I won't lie and say those 8 years were all roses and candy, there were lots of painful memories too. The loss of certain friends, who I no longer really talk to. The countless battles fought and some lost. The usual school politics which tended to favour some. The school drama and all that.
But when I look back, that school pretty much gave more that it took (and it did eat up a lot of my parents' income). It was here that I found the best friends I could have, my love for photography and doodling and calligraphy, my 'environmentalism', and so much more. And if I could, I would replay it so many times.
To Garrymoo 94 and her love for books and 'nerdy' knowledge.
To Lala 52 and her retardedness.
To Picasa 423 and her artsy talent.
To Ozzie 378 and our long PCs under the haunted tree and later the Naroli House Gardens.
To Subeeyore and our sharing of knowledge.
To Majo 524 and her never ending story telling.
To the Bullies and our true Never say die spirit and the amount of fun we had dancing,singing,gossiping and what not..
To the 'Hockey chicks' who always never gave up no matter how much sweat we had to break.
To 'OB' who always offered me a taxi ride in the Big field whenever I was puffing and panting.
Of course the Big Field, that always felt endless especially we had to take rounds.
To that certain 'Voldemort' who was the first to make me take 8 rounds of the field through her acts of terror.
To Khandke and all the unforgettable History classes.
To Kainthola and his patience in teaching us Maths, and his singing.
To Datta, the 'walking encyclopedia' as she was called, yet to meet another genius like her.
To Wazir and the Political Science Classes in that cozy room which always almost put us to sleep.
To Mrs Bhatt, the caring soul who let me cry in peace on her shoulders when I was getting my first Tetanus injection.
To Navigator B-1 who cried for me when that tragedy actually happened.
To the Mess which helped me greatly in the journey from 36 to 63 kilos with food that I still crave today and could give anything for.
To the E-Squad, the actual first environmental group I joined.
To the Summer House, it feels as if it was just yesterday that Garrymoo and I were chased all around the bench there by Almond the spiteful cat.
To Welham, where we spent more time then home and miss every moment for it.:)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

New lows

Chirps

tragic