Jivika~

X B

BATCH: 2019-20.

I stared at the printed words for about five seconds and prayed that the photo should come out well. Peeking through my closed eyes, I hoped for some sort of miracle to happen. Waheguru seemed to have closed his ears at my sight.

Really? Why am I always striking a hat trick?

Eighth, ninth and now tenth as well! At least my last school photo could've bestowed some mercy upon me! My eyes were closed and that's not how you take a photo!

Yes, yes. This is that 'dreaded' class photo which only provides me relief that rest of the people look worse than me. But the meme of the year should go to, the way Parth was looking at Amaan.

I mean, what was he hinting?

"Gosh Rhea looks as if she's pregnant with Amaya's child!" Lavanya said, pointing at the two in the photo. While all us were busy cackling, Pranav gave Rhea a look of bewilderment, checking if the statement was shown by her body or not.

"Guys start passing around your slam books," reminded Laysa, so that we would not forget it like last time. As slam books were passed and jokes were shared, Sonika ma'am caught my eyes. She gave me a tiny—the tiniest smile possible—and continued chatting away with Lata ma'am who stood at the door.

The bell had just rung and she was here, within no time. Lata ma'am was one of those teachers who would make you say, 'Saans lena de maate!'.
[Let me breathe woman!]

"Lata ma'am can I please take this forty minutes as well?"

"No Sonika ma'am. Maybe you can take four minutes from that forty. Nothing more, nothing less."

With a defeated smile Sonika ma'am walked out and Lata ma'am in, as she gave us her smile which clearly meant submit-your-assignments. Just when she was about to speak Sachin cut through her, "All my heroes, please move to the back!"

Exactly the way she used to say.

"Yes Sachin!" she replied with a smile, not upset at all with the mimicking.

The class lit up in delight seeing her attitude. This was a rare—very rare event. As the bell rang, the whole class rushed to the washrooms, preparing for what was about to come. Preparation was the key to be successful in anything.

*

After our visits to the washroom, I went along with our gang to our class, which was of course not our class anymore. We begged Pranav, Sourav and Arnav to sit in that cupboard so that we could take a photo.

And we did.

We ourselves sat inside the shelves, to recreate the moment. 

Sejal ma'am, our Hindi teacher, walked past the class with a smile. Laughing at our antics, she walked over and talked with us for some time. 'Ab toh hume bhul jaoge tumlog!' came her statement. Even she knew how wrong she was, we would never forget her of all the people. Our Hindi teacher in sixth, eighth, ninth and tenth grade. Moreover, our class teacher last year who gave two flying fucks to Yogini's complaint of the class bunking Yoga.

After our photo sessions, we headed to the ground for the final bash.

*

The ground which was dry minutes ago, was now irrigated completely. The soil turned sticky, almost like a monsoon season amidst this February spring.

Yes. This is our annual Holi; the water fight.

Why today? Because every year it would be by the end of the annual examination that we would pull out this water fight, crying 'Happy Independence!' after receiving our freedom from exams. But today.

Today it was our last day, officially, unofficially—every way possible.

Buckets of water were splashed on each other. Even the unwilling had to take a bath. The washrooms were facing long queues for refilling of bottles. And here I was, drenched from head to toe. Not one was spared from the wrath of water.

But even those kinds, the 'touch-me-not' who said "Eeeww!" every year, were spotted with smiles stretched across their faces. I saw Amaan heading towards me.

"Happy Holi!"

"It's almost a month away Amaan."

Before I could comprehend the twinkle in his eyes, I felt my eyes close. The splash of water, let me tell you, ice cold water was nothing less than an 'Ice bucket challenge for me'.

"Amaaan!" I screeched trying to repay the wretched soul for his deeds. Before I could say what-the-fuck he disappeared like a puff of smoke. Helping me carry out the task of getting him drenched was an unlikely ally, Parth Kumar. Laughing I watched Pratik take the photos of our class, the unofficial photo I had kept them bugging the other day about.

We dragged him into our photo as well, much to Kiara's surprise. What to do? He was a part of the family as well.

Unofficial class photos were extremely underrated. Captioning the picture in my mind, I let out a chuckle.

X B—THE DRENCHED BUFFOONS.

BATCH: 2019-20.

*

Standing outside the gate I stood there, not wanting to move ahead. Cause moving ahead meant moving on and moving on meant moving away.

"Come on let's get going!" breathed Maahi, putting up a smile. It was only the two of us, the others were either at the shop or near their buses.

"I can't."

"Then don't. Please?"

"Maahi! You know that I cannot do that."

"I'll let you stay at my place. Anyways I'm alone, only child benefits. Two years. You can stay with me?"

Laughing, I had to appreciate her imagination. Only if things were so simple. Banks and their bloody job transfers. Choosing not to respond to that, I spoke up, trying to make her feel better.

"But you have two years more in this school! Enjoy it, then we'll see! Plus, why are you moping around now? It's not as if you are leaving!"

"It won't be the same without you. Everyone is leaving. I'll be alone."

She leaned against the wall, not willing to go home yet. Which was strange considering how she knew that her mother would rush to the school had she not seen her in ten minutes from now. Tracing the cracks of the breaking wall of our school, she stared into them deep.

"Two years later when I will have to leave this place, it would be more difficult. Jivika, twelve years. Twelve-fucking-years! I grew up at this place! And as much as I hate it, this crumbling building, smelly washrooms, rooms which cannot be classified as classrooms, ground which has more snakes than soil, adults called teachers who don't even have the maturity of a five-year-old—this place was, is and will be my home, forever."

Head between her knees, she sat down, right then and there.

"And I don't want to lose my family which gave me this home."

Sitting next to her, I put an arm around the petite being. Squeezing her shoulder, I said nothing for a while. The girl lifted up her head, placing it on my shoulder instead. Her eyes seemed stuck to the corner of the road ahead of us. The same place where all our buses where lying, line by line.

"You will still have Lavanya and Kiara," I said, trying to reassure her. With me shifting to a different country and Amaya, Laysa and Rhea dropping out of school for entrance-coaching, only these three were left.

"They will be in different classes. Lavanya is taking up Commerce and Kiara is going to take Science with CS. It won't be the same yaar! Who will I talk cricket with? Who will I share my book list with? To who will I bitch to about ICT? With who will I share our inside jokes? Who will make me laugh the way you people do? Who will help me move my lazy ass?!"

"We could always chat on Insta?"

That came out as a question when I wanted it to be a statement.

"We will always chat on Insta."

"But no one in the whole school has a shoulder like yours, you know the perfect amount of fat and height?"

I knew that. Believe me, I got more compliments for my shoulder than my face or brain.

So I did what I could. I gave her a hug. She was a Lilliputian, I could cover her up like a cocoon. Maahi was not a fan of physical contacts. But this time I saw no tantrums being thrown.

"I'm gonna miss us, all the seven of us," she whispered into my shoulder.

"But we are six right, excluding you? So six of us? Or are you talking about my shoulder? "

When it came to Math, I was always precise. Let the moment be wrong but Math got me riled up. And this, I suppose, was the definition of a wrong moment. Messed up people, that's me.

"No. Seven of us. I am me when I'm with you all. So I'm going to miss that part of me as well."

Suddenly I felt her squirming, trying to get out of the hold. Distancing herself, she picked up her bag and motioned towards my bus, mouthing a 'later'. Clearing her throat, she called out while walking away, "Amaan, eavesdrop karna buri aadat hai. Just tell me that you wanna talk to her."
[Amaan, eavesdropping is a bad habit.]

I groaned.

"What Amaan?"

"Everything."

"Dude, a bit more specific please. I'm not Rane sir, I'm not smart enough to draw out the conclusion that if the protagonist has a blue curtain that means he is suffering from depression."

"Bandariya, why are you leaving? With your group not together anymore, the school will lose its charm. You people as a group manage to bring the best out of each other. Individually, you all are a bore. Stay back for this old falling school at least?"
[Bandariya: Female monkey]

Pausing for a second, he continued.

"You know that I like you, right?"

"I know." 

Stepping outside the gate, our steps fell together at the same place and same pace. It felt different. As if I took a brand new step into the world. It felt overwhelming and lonely, knowing that you were just guests for this place from now on. It felt crazy that my bus-pass and school ID had no meaning left behind.

People talk about how difficult it was to go through Vidai ceremony. But there at least you've someone with you, if not forever, at least for the moment. I wonder why they don't tell us how to step out of this place, the one which was my home but won't be anymore. Why don't people tell us how to not grow up?

A place where Sonika ma'am won't be there to scold, Lata ma'am won't be there to make us write impositions, our Science teachers won't be there to disappoint us with those terrible marks, Rane sir won't be there to create those weird jokes, Sejal ma'am won't be there to catch us sitting in cupboards, Coach won't be there to run behind the cows, Yoga ma'am won't be there to make us meditate and travel into the lake and Gupta ma'am won't be there to catch us bunking.

And when our dearest Moushi won't be there, shouting at us.

This, was the circle of life.

I looked back to the ground. Recapturing the last look.

And then at the boy beside me. First step into this school, and the last step out of this school. Sure, he might be a bit below there on my priority list but he was there, which meant he was worth it. Worth remaining a figment of my memory. He eyed the board above our gate, one last time.

ENTER TO LEARN, LEAVE TO SERVE.

"I entered. I learned. I served. But do I need to leave? Amaan, do I need to leave?"

"You might leave from the presence of this school, but not from its heart. This old lady, our school, once she accepts you with open arms, she doesn't let go. Ever. Till the last of her bricks fall, she won't."

I looked.

He looked.

We looked away.

And we looked back again.

~