Today’s Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.
Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.
I exhaled deeply as I stood there, staring at the rustic iron gates that led to my school. It was a warm, cloudless March morning but the breeze still carried the winter chill. The sun shone a faint white and everything seemed to have lit up to welcome the long-awaited summer. Everyone around me was filled with glee, everyone except me. I just stood there, trying to take in every single detail of this home.
The hair behind my neck rose as I took the first step towards the road that led to the main building. And as I passed through the enormous ashok trees, nostalgia gripped me. I was soon flooded with memories of the nine best years of my life. My friends and teachers through the years, school exhibitions, debates, quiz competitions, games periods, class bunks, school excursions, recess! It all came back to me with such a force that I almost drowned myself in the wave of the past. Thus, my journey from the school gates to the classroom was merely an empty walk, for my eyes were seeing nothing but the flashback of my school life and the only thing steering me into the right direction were my reflexes.
One of the first things that I remembered was my first stage performance. Now, if given a choice, I would never choose dancing as my act, but sadly, you can’t take decisions for yourself in kindergarten. Therefore, I was put into the dance group, which was to perform salsa on the school’s Annual Day function. I still don’t remember how I did it, but what I do remember is peeing my pants in front of my partner during the practice session.
Then as the flashback moved forward, I started thinking about class 3, when I bagged the role of a passer-by in an adaptation of Tom Sawyer. Huge feat for me I’d say! Then came class 5th, when I finally lived up to my parent’s (and the society’s) wishes and topped my class for the first time ever. It was also in that year that I became a computer exhibitor at my school’s annual exhibition. It was a lot of fun. Staying extra hours in school just to complete the PPTs and decorations of the room, and thus, in turn getting free snacks from the teachers! Moreover, you had complete access to every nook and corner of the school. Therefore, I used to spend hours roaming around the school with my friends, without getting caught!
Next came class 6, which I consider the best class ever. Oh boy! With all the best friend stuff, teacher-student gossip, pen-fights, uncalled library hours, reckless games periods, weird Hindi teachers, weekly movie afternoons and inter-class running marathons, it was certainly the best year ever. It was also the year in which I discovered that back-benches are the best seats ever!
What followed was the athletics’ meet (in which I failed miserably), my choir performance, me getting the lowest possible marks in music and Sanskrit, awkward swimming pool – changing room talks, me getting into a fight with someone I don’t recall and me playing Gandhi on the Annual Day. It was all so perfect…
But here I was, throwing it all away for a school that didn’t even have a decent field, any co-curricular activities or awesome annual functions. It was supposedly the best school in northern India. But for me, it was nothing more than a hostel which snatched my home away. I had grown up in this very school, which had witnessed my very first dance, first fight, first trophy, first debate…first everything! This school was my first love, but as I walked its threshold for the one last time, I could not help but feel a small pain in my chest…