ok this is a total rip off from an article in our school's bi-annual magazine. i got totally nostalgic when i read this and knew tat i had to store this stuff, coz i generally misplace the magazine :p
i havent changed much of the article, eventhough this was written by a senior (1979-82) who studied there much before i was born, the experience remains the same.....
i so miss my school days.....
Like everybody's life, mine too had its eventful days when i was a school boy. in RamakrishnaVidyashala, my school.
a school with a reputation of being one of the best in the country. the discipline, the enphasis on values, on spirituality, on the rounding of one's personality, the multifarious games,physical exercises, swimming, the debates, the bonhomie, lip-smacking food and the very joy of living together with friends on a 69 acre campus tat loioked likde one large, beautifully crafted carpet of green!
those were the days when we were growin up. when the body and the mind were slowly taking shape. we had out boyish impishness, out youthful folibles.
the chanting of the prayers. in the hall tat evoked such divine piety. to th ethrob of the tabala ( played beautifully by kappe) and the mellow melody of the harmonium. some of us once in a while, drifting into a bit of a slumberback arched and the body fallinf forwards, completely out of our control.and then the sudden jolting of the conscience resulting in hte regaining of the conscious!
those night studiy sessions. done in pir drop silence! night study supervisors who walked up and down like sentinels guarding the ford! their slow, steady, deliberate walk a reminder of their omniscience in the stillness ot the night! "eeeeh, stand up, i say" !
those giggles and the winks, abt some suddenly remembered hilarity! those occasions when some of us stood up and said we were feelin a lil drowsy, just a few mins into the study hour! the splashing of the water on the face. the serious look on the faces of the studious ppl through the window. for having been disturbed bu the sound of water! all this was great fun.
a flash of the ochre in the midst of the study, a faint glimpse of the Swamiji walking along the corridor with the briskness and the purposefulness of a man in command. yhr immidiate straightening of out bent backs, the repositioning or the obooks to portray sincearity of intent and then the reverting of the slightly more relaxed posture after his exit.
sometimes a shrill screams emanating from the distance away from our class. a sure indicator of some elder's outburst against some sloffy boy's behaviour during that precious hour.
and then the diary writing. for five mins. from 8 to 8:05 pm!
we had our inner feelings. tat we couldnt really describe. we missed describe. we missed home. and perhaps our childhood mates with whome we grew up before joining boarding school. and then, we reminded ourselves tat we had to get on in life. make new friends, seek more experiences, and become better equipped to handle the world. as our teachers always told us in the class.
we had our worries. or wantin to do well in class. of winning the hockey match the next day, of writing home and wanting to tell amma tat we loved her! a life of myrad thoughts. sometimes all jumbled up, sometimes having a pattern.
i am gonna have a smile tonight when i sleep......remembering all the good times i've had in my school....getting nostalgic, feels good :)
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getting nostalgic is a sweet pain
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