Wasting Time

Why am I writing this? Oh yes, because the times I need to study usually coincide with my periods of eager enthusiasm for anything and everything else. This is not surprising in itself, because I've been too busy, lazy or forgetful to get around to updating my blog lately. But then a couple of days ago I had to undergo a rather traumatic experience, and rather than repress it by studying and/or turning up the music in my head, I decided to do this. Y'know, because it's not like I take my exams seriously or anything..


Three days ago, I'm told that I'm expected to turn up for the school annual function to collect my prize. What prize? Oh, the history toppers' prize, the one I got by default because the other twenty people who had history in school were studying economics instead. I didn't bother, because eco scares me. (And I passed healthily, so there.) Anyway, I wouldn't have shown up, except that I live in the same house as one of the faculty, so really, it wasn't worth the drama *not* going. Which I would have totally wanted to do, because of all the mind-numbing, soul-draining, ghastly, disgusting, completely and tragically boring experiences..........

So I went nervously to bed the previous night, bolstered in confidence by a brief chat with a devil-worshipper on #fb and an extra wax doll of Rekha Ma'am-at-the-burning-stake under my bed. I managed to get up in time, and ignoring the mater's frantic scurryings around my bedroom door, arrived nonchalantly late at the venue. The science city auditorium, of all places. Yes, kids. Our school has the best academic record of any CBSE school in the Eastern region, not to mention several media accolades and extra-curricular honours, but our own auditorium? Hell, no. If we had our own auditorium, the school might have to cut funding for, I don't know, another completely unnecessary and aesthetically puke-inducing building, thereby doing away with the last of the trees and making killer red ants the only remaining wildlife on campus.

Anyway, thankfully Ashutosh P. Shukla, one of my favoritest juniors and current Head Boy badge-holder was at the entrance. He gave me a rapid handshake and a huge cheesy grin in quick succession. At least someone was happy that day.

Inside, Titas, the-junior-whose-life-creepily-mirrors-my-own, and current head-girl of our godforsaken school, was doing the harried hyper hazed thing, bless 'er. And then I met some of my batchmates. Oh joy.

I strained my cheek-muscles, smiling cheerfully as tiny people I didn't recognize waved and called my name. Later I was told that I used to be on duty for their classroom. If I remember them correctly, time has not improved them at all. And then there were my batchmates, who chattered on about life after school as we all sat in the same row and craned our necks to see around each other. I thought the Joo had given me more social finesse by now, but no. A year ago they were pontificatingly boring, and college has only brought out their inner-school-kids. Their pasts now seem bedewed with rosy visions of favorite teachers, BFF's, favorite songs and messy tiffin boxes. I still vividly remember the double standards, the general inept idiocy and the outright bitching that went on, however. Incredibly, some of this was even outside the bounds of the staff-room.

The greatest joy that those three wasted hours of my life had to give me were the two times, in quick succession, that I was able to look RBT in the eye on stage and cut straight past her to the prize-table. Did I nod? No. Did I smile? Hell, no. I walked past her like she doesn't exist, and I wish I'd been in the position to do the same to the Political Mammoth, the Rekha, and maybe, just maybe, the Hazra. Would've done my seven-years-aggrieved-heart a world of good. Sigh.

The good side? I exorcised a couple of ghosts that day. I got over my fear of walking on stage in front of my school-peers, something I'd had to do so many times, no wonder I hated it. I realized the genuine fondness Titas, the sweet bitch, has for me, ushering me out and soothing me after an eye-popping confrontation with Arun Sir, leaping out of the woodwork to take official pictures. I missed my link to sanity , Ani, so so much it's not even funny! Yet I realized that I'm now strong and sure enough to face those ghosts on my own, even with all the inane, completely mindless drivel that swamps our school system. One rule for the favored ones, another for the 'good' ones, and none at all for those outside the charmed circle - that's the way it's always been; and thank the heavens I'm out.

Leaving, I realized how much I have to be thankful for. The Joo, finding Shy and Riddhi, discovering my true passions, learning to be kinder to myself, even learning how to love again. And for that, you, my hearts of hearts are responsible. Andie, my favorite violin prodigy and always-sister; RGD, my scholargipsy wife; the black man Kalua, my beloved first husband; Piu, my chocolate-darling-spice-girl; Bedo, my perennial partner-in-crime; Suki-Di, my surrogate and much-loved Mamma-Demona; Pal, the one person I know in real life who I'd have liked to be; Soham-the-gelato-man; my big brother Adi and my baby sister Brinda; Atin, my cross-country mirror-image; His Divine Awesomeness Aditya Bidikar, and of course my own stolen piece of sunshine :P. You all keep me sane and happy and alive!!

It's a beautiful night tonight, clear and quiet. A more than half moon, pitted beautifully against the purple-black-blue sky, and a single clear star to the south, and just the smallest taste of a breeze. I should be studying, but I wanted to tell you how much I love you. Good night, and good luck. <3


P.S- I saw bhole sitting alone in the middle-section, prize in one hand and a desperately bored expression on his face. Poor boy, I know exactly how he feels. One day if he reads this, I'd like to tell him that for life after school, it'll only ever get better. In the meantime, stay strong and try not to kill yourself during sports marching practice.

P.P.S - Debaditya got the prize for Best-behaved-boy. I believe the title includes the words 'Harmonious Conduct'. I mean, I'm very fond of him, he's a very promising karateka and has clearly picked up the debashish bug, but harmonious conduct? Tsk tsk.