Jivika~

It was 07:35.

Our assembly was supposed to start five minutes ago, but the absence of many classes led to the delay. And our class was one of that many. The whole year we had not been invited to attend the assembly thanks to our Math teacher's early classes. Initially we thought we were lucky. Later, I realized that standing here, staring into the space was much better than losing my mind over the volume of a cone.

"1! 2! 3! ..."

Yes, our school liked to take the attendance of the class in this way. By announcing the roll numbers at one go. Because most of our teachers liked to make us do their work, however, the principal wanted anything but that. Hell bent that she wanted to see the adults working, this system was started by her.

But that was not the current problem. It was the fact that the girls of our class, late as usual, had lost out our spot. Why? Cause we were busy chit-chatting till our teeth clacked painfully. And the boys were smart enough to secure themselves a spot early. Not to mention the fact, that our shortest girl had not arrived yet.

Yes, you got it right. Maahi was late, again.

Sighing, we made the collective decision to stand behind the boys line. Now, we twenty-nine boys in the line, and after taking a one-hand-distance, we were literally outside the gate of our school. This line was longer than the queue in front of banks. And that's when the culprit graced us with her presence.

"Why are you people standing behind?"

"Because you are late!"

"Don't worry, I'll sort this out. And by the way, I might be late but I've never stood in the late-comers line. Also, why the hell should I be early? I mean, I live five minutes away from this place, if I sneak out early my mother would start asking me if they took pity on me and gave me the janitor's job!"

Marching to the front-side of the ground, she spoke in hushed tones with the short boy from C section. After minutes of arguing back and forth, the guy relented and shifted a bit. The boys of our class, enjoying our misery, tried to shift into the space she created.

"If, if you move an inch, I will cut your legs into pieces!"

That got the issue covered. And so she stood in that small space, so small that I was unsure whether this was the place where we could form a line.

"Line wahi sai shuru hoti hai jaha mai kadi rehti hu."
[The line starts from where I stand.]

Before I could let out a complete chuckle, the prayer started. The choir which consisted of Kiara, Pratik and few others would definitely bag the prize on how to sing in such a way that they could make the innocents like us cry with desperation. Peeking through my eyes every once in a while, I caught those two flirting shamelessly up there, on the stage.

This was something which was going to happen for the next two years as well. But definitely the last time I got to see it. And so, for once, I smiled watching their antics rather than gagging like I used to.

Not the last day at school, but one of the last days.

Then came our Yogini, who reprimanded us for opening our eyes before the prayer finished. Well, why bother when we hadn't closed them in the first place. For the past five years I had been hearing her dialogues. They were the same all the time. So, along with the others, I mimicked her lightly, completing her sentences before the words would come out of her mouth.

"Children, today we are going to do Taad Asana. My demonstrators, please come up here!"

In front of me, I could hear Rhea mutter loud and clear, "There is a taadne ka aasan?"
[There is a posture/exercise for us to stare shamelessly?]

Shreyansh and Amaan strutted towards the stage. Of course, her favourites.

"Okay, close your hands and make them into fists. Slowly-slowly lift them up, it has to be very slow! Once your arms are up, touching your ears, try to keep them stiff and straight. Now, slowly-slowly stand on your toes and maintain the posture."

Leaving us in that spot, she started scolding the children on the stage.

"Now, similarly bring your hands down. Slowly-slowly please! The benefits are..."

I let out a groan, involuntarily. Of course, the benefits were boring. But those uniform-checkers were far more dangerous. I carelessly eyed Rhea's witch-like nails. Pressing my hand against my stomach, I tried to subtly check whether I wore a belt that day. No. Who wears a belt under their kurta? Our pants were under the kurta, but still they checked that.

Feeling them closer, I gulped. Fingers crossed, I waited for a miracle to happen. And then it did.

"YOU! DISCIPLINE COMMITTEE! IS THIS THE TIME TO CHECK UNIFORMS! DURING THE PRAYER? SOME PEOPLE JUST WANT TO DISTURB THE ASSEMBLY, AND THEY WOULD FIND ANY EXCUSE FOR THAT! AND YOU, YOGA MA'AM, GET DONE WITH THIS QUICK. WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY'S TIME! ARREY RAMU KAKA! ARE YOU BLIND? CLOSE THE GATE! NEITHER THE TEACHERS NOR THE STUDENTS HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE LATE!"

The lady might be a terror, but that terror could also be useful at times. Clad in her Bengali Sari, she put a stop to all the events asking the children to continue the assembly program. The discipline committee was forced to disappear into their crowd after the nasty humiliation they received.

As Yogini scurried away along with Amaan and Shreyansh, running for their lives, the eighth-grader came up for the Pledge. Hah! One look at his face and we all knew that the shaking limbs were going to give out. Whispers rose in the air, each placing their bets on how the kid was going to fuck up and when.

"Fifty rupees! He's gonna mess up in the first line!"

"Sixty! It's gonna be the second line!"

Leaving out a shaky breath, I watched the kid breath into the mic.

"India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and—and—an—"

My eyes wide, I saw the kid throwing a look towards a girl behind him, the one playing the Harmonium. I expected him to screw up because he was nervous, not because of any other reason. Children never fail to surprise you, by god! The kid ran away with the incomplete pledge.

Snickering, the one giving the command announced for thought of the day. The thought came and went, it was uneventful. Who likes perfection? No one, perfection does not make an assembly entertaining.

Then came the news of the day.

The news which their class had not prepared! Their class teacher was going to get busted today. First the pledge and then this!

"Who is their class teacher?"

"Archana."

The giddiness I felt on the insides could not be stopped. That lady had made breathing a crime in our building. Having her as your neighbor was the worst. Sometimes it was chai-patti (tea leaves) otherwise it was sugar. She would walk into our house as if she owned the place! And not to mention how she would keep bugging me about Kiara and Pratik. Extracting gossip likes bees sucking out nectar.

"Chana deserves that bashing."
[Chana, short form of Archana. Literal meaning: Chickpea.]

Trying to handle the situation, our Coach pushed Pratik and one of his choir friends forward, to present the news. With newspapers in their hand, they searched up bits and pieces of news and read them out loud. Those two sneaky Dhoni fans, bluffed up the Sports news.

"Dhoni releases official statement: I will play till 2027!"

The chorus of hip-hip-hurrahs' which ran throughout the ground, the love for the former captain dancing on its peak, echoed through the voice of the young and old alike. The young as in us, the students and the old, the people watching our assembly from outside the gate.

Soon the special-item was brought. Aniket Venkataraman was an irritating kid who knew how to memorize the word-to-word facts about myopia from Wikipedia and recite it like Shlokas. Untalented people trying to desperately find some talent in themselves, that's all I could say.

The poor girl who said the word-of-the-day was scolded because she didn't prepare a hoarding with the 'serendipity' written on it. Then came the most dreaded part of the day, community song.

"Ae mati re, moro mote! Ae mat—"

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Guess who? Our lady Hitler!

"No Bengali or Assamese songs! Sing that South Indian one!"

Setting up the Harmonium again, our Music sir repeatedly curled up his long air around the ears. Motioning one, two, three, four we set with the ear piercing tone again.

"Pillara, papallara, repati bharata porullara..."

And that drama continued. By the end of it we sang it thrice but she was not satisfied. Giving up for the day, she asked Rane sir to make his announcements.

"Today's assembly was performed in a befitting manner, all children will be given the commendation certificates."

Even for the worst performances, motivating the good-for-nothing's was the main aim of the school. Ideally, it was a good move. But realistically, the undeserving getting away all the time was not acceptable. But had the world not run ideally, it would've been useless to trust on any human at all.

Once all the assembly programs were done with, the lady—our principal—walked up on the stage, not screaming or beating someone up for once.

"Children as you all know today is your last day at school as a tenth grader. Some of you will join us after few months and others won't."

And here we were, getting roasted to light medium brown color under the sun. Hitler's speech was just another mandatory offer which the perks and packages of our school offered. Good thing, her speeches were not as long as our previous principal's.

There she stood in that red Bengali sari of hers, lines of anger permanently stitched on her face. She was one of the worst we got, in the terms of being the strictest. Never had it ever happened in our school that our principal's would meddle in our affairs. Teachers had the freedom to do whatever they wanted to.

But this lady brought down that whole system. Primarily the reason why people never liked her. No one likes changes.

However, I can't deny the fact that she did take up the responsibility on her shoulders quite well. The thing was, she did not like three particular species, groups of students, teachers and parents. Students as individuals, she was okay with that. Her idea of showing that she cared was quite different.

"So I would like to conclude saying all the best to our class tenth and twelfth students. You shall make the school proud. May God bless you all!"

I felt tears stinging my eyes. But even after studying in this place for six years I did not have the courage to cry. I focused on the lone tree, as always.

Loud hoots and claps were heard. All from us, the tenth graders. And we did not care about the teachers trying to shush us or the twelfth graders terming us as 'immature' or even the junior classes who looked at us in awe.

This was a tradition. A tradition which must be performed every year to ensure that we inspire our juniors to do the same when their time comes. A tradition which was inspired on us by our seniors.

And we did not fail to fulfill our duty.

We made sure of that.

Our Coach silenced the crowds and held onto the mic to make an announcement.

"Children summer is coming. Make sure you all stay healthy and fit. Drink lots of water and eat regularly. Otherwise like every year many of you faint an—"

There. He jinxed it.

In a span of seconds, Diya of tenth D, fell down with her head crashing onto the feet of the girl behind her.

"HAAYE! MERA PAEER!!"
[Oh, my feet!]

Picking up the fallen girl in her arms, the teacher rushed towards the medical room. And so, we continued with our National Anthem. Getting done with it, we heard the announcement that we were dispersed to our classes. The dispersion song was played on and for the first time, I could actually focus on the words, what it meant.

"Galat mat kadam uthao soch kar chalo, vichar kar chalo.
Rah ki musibato ko paar kar chalo!"
[Do not take the wrong step, think before you do something.
Get through your life by crossing this bridge of troubles.]

And that is when our amazing choir decided to deliberately ruin it. Right when I was trying to decode that song for the first time in my life! Something which should've been: Yeh kaun aaraha, andhera cha raha (Who is arriving that darkness is spreading), they successfully altered the line.

"Dhairya aa raha, Dhairya aa raha ..."
[Dhairya is arriving, Dhairya is arriving...]

Teasing people by linking them with others, the age old method. And that's how by taking the name of Dhairya, they teased the girl singing in the choir while that boy was up there on the stage, trying to cover the mic.

And that's how we walked back to our class, caught between the stampede on the stairs. Elphinstone must've been nothing compared to this! Almost falling, I held onto the shoulders of the person ahead of me.

"Woman, cut your nails! Your Tili here cannot bear the pain of your claws! This is like Beauty and the Beast! Look at me! I am the beauty, you are a beast!"

Leaving him in an instant, I saw him lose his balance, which led me to lose mine. Tumbling and toppling the whole crowd fell to the ground, groans of 'oomph' and 'oww' erupted in the air, the perfect ending to the start of a wonderful spring morning.

I looked.

He looked.

We looked away.

And we looked back again.

~