How badly I miss my good old Nainital school days. I miss the clear sky, those cold snowy winters, those rainy days when we stood in the queue for going to the dining hall, the tunic that was supposed to be four fingers above our knee and the smell in the air. I miss every single bit of my childhood and teenage years in Nainital.
The knee-length socks that made us look smart. When I think of it, I just want myself to backpedal to that stage. A stage where punishments by our teachers were embarrassing, where holding a badge meant the world, when the house captain's trust was all you wanted.
There have been so many times when we were caught speaking in Hindi, I remember when Ashmita Gaur was our head girl, I was conversing in Hindi, as she passed by, we realized it and the translation from Hindi to English of the words formerly spoken turned into a funny masterpiece. It turned into a “LOL” thing and every one of us snickered intensely.
There were so many restrictions yet every time we somehow succeeded in paving the way to transform and embrace those restrictions into jolly enjoyment. I wonder where those times go; they're old enough to be buried in the coffin. Yet they are so strong that their eternalness is just so mighty and so fresh.
I can never forget how our dance parties with Fanta and Coke used to be. Now our parties don't make sense without Marlboro Red and Heineken.
How well done our hair used to be, neatly pinned up and braided, but now all we need is a clutch and we’re ready. How changing 10 times a day was of utmost fun, yet now we wake up, brush and go to the college in our night suits. I wonder how we tolerated the silence in our dining hall, because now The Big Chill doesn't make sense without being a total ass****. Presumably, I wonder how we were scared of the seniors in school and now we aren't even scared of bullet shots.
How we were told that stranger was someone to be cautious of and how now we attempt to talk to random people at Metro Stations to make them our friends for the time being.
Things have changed, haven’t they? How Sabrang got us looking like Divas yet now we go to Hauz Khas in Pyjamas. How I used to cry over every stupid stuff, and today how strong I have become to help myself with tears in the form of poetry and aloofness.
How our matrons did not switch on the television until everyone was marked absent, to how traffic gets us late and we beg our landlady to open the PG gates for us. How tuck was craved for and how we think of saving money every day now.
Life takes a big turn; I think each one of us knows that extremely well. Childhood memories will be special to us, no matter how old they become. The menu was already decided for us so we didn't worry about it, provided now we worry about what's being cooked in the PG!
From getting good marks to now getting good internships, we all definitely grew up; to be responsible and serene girls. In that sense, we have learnt how to face realities of life, and here we stand firm even in the harshest of storms that try to deforest our trees of hope.
Happiness once was getting Rajma Chawal and happiness now is getting one sound sleep because we are so done with our power naps.
From sleeping at 10 in the night and waking up at 5 in the morning, to now when just smoking cigarettes until 4 am to contemplate about life, the innocence got lost. We've come a long way and it's hard to believe. Let's just forget everything and thank each of us for giving the most precious years to each other!
Keeping names (sacrosanct) soared in us the pride to remain beside each other, those embassy butter chicken and naans. Projects that we always waited for, 78 dishes, oh god really? That one day felt like the manna dew fell from heaven. Yes, it was that feeling wasn't it?
Class 10th boards (since that's when my role play in my school ended). We often complain about life being unfair but never thank it for having such a beautiful past! Remember when eating food with hands meant being cool because it was regarded as the end of the session.
I don't know but I have lost my spirit and soul in the engrossed savouring the delicious memories. Yes, those were beautiful years of my life. God, I really pray that you bless my Alma mater and my Nainital. It's worth being happy about!
As we circle the sun one more time, we spend our time reflecting. And although life seems tough and unfair, I cannot forget where it all began.
It was a school and a place for many but a home to me.