School Days - Purano Sei Diner Katha

Its like a song which remains uncluttered, fresh, soulful even today after 28 odd years.


Still remember my kindergarden days, when meso (my uncle, Hari meso) used to drop me off to the NorthEast Point KG School on his cycle and the whole day I used to cry in school. Couldnt figure out the reason till this day. My best friend those days were Bikram ( the kid with a flowing nose :-)). For a Saraswati Puja in the school, I was dressed in all white and I fell into the drain (yaa, we had open drains !!) - next time I attened a school saraswati puja was after 12 yrs.

Holy Cross Days
Close to a year in that school, I was got admission in Holy Cross School (HCS), which was the one of the best (if not the best; atleast those day or atleast thats what was told to me) English Medium School in Agartala. Though I don't remember (I was 5 yrs then) I guess I was preety excited as we had to go to school by school-bus (Gloria, one of the 6 buses from HCS). That's quite a transistion from sitting on the front rod of a cycle !! Dada and Chumkidi (my cousin sister) were already studying in HCS. From KG1 to Grade 2 it was morning shifts (catch the bus at 715 am and then come back home at 1130) and from Grade 3 it was afternoon shift (1030 am to 410 pm). I was never the studious types but was not that bad also. I was more naughty than most guys in the class. Dada and chumkidi used to check me about my day during the changeover of shifts. Later in the afternoon shifts, it was more fun, was in the big league though was the most junior bunch. I was good in Science subjects and scrored a consistant D in Moral Science, never knew the whole of India is also poor in that. Even my poor marks seems to teach me more morality than most Indians. That might also have something to do with my upbringing at home. I have realised off late that I tend to remember non-consequal thing from past and those are so vivid, that amazes me also. As for instance, I was talking to one of my school friend and I happened trace most of my classmates, where they used to sit and with whom in class 3. Nothing great in that, just that the moment has been immortalised forever. My acheivements in HCS had been most of notorious ones. I was made to stand out of the class for 4 periods by Joseph Thomas, he was my class teacher in 4th. It was deserving but was bit too harsh for a kid. Same year, I had more acheivements of such kind. Pelted stones at juniors during lunch break for capturing field for playing, where one guy got hurt on his head, needed 4 stitches. Felt so bad that I walked in to the Rev. Father's room the next day and confessed though no one knew who threw it. I walked out proud and happy as I saved myself from a suspension from school. Few months later I reached another low point of my life, when I eloped from school and came home with my friends. Courtesy those friends, I touched my lowest, taking a puff of cigarattee but couldnt stop coughing in Class 4. Swear words were a part of my vocabulary. Dada used to say that they were not my friends but I thought otherwise. It didnt take much time to realise how wrong I was. Those incidents, and other circumstances made my parents decide that I need to be put under close supervision. So after Class 5, I moved to a school near to our house. It was Shishu Bihar School, only English Medium School under Tripura Board. Dada by that time also moved out form HCS to Netaji Subhas Vidhyaniketan, the best Bengali Medium School in Agartala. The transfer was also aided by the fact that its easier to score in Tripura Board and the course structure was familiar. On the last day of HCS, one of my friend told "tui thakos amrar laage kintu result ta bhala kaira laas" (you stay with us, but score good marks). This is significant, as of the 5 guys who was with me, 3 has been lost on oblivion, 1 is struggling and the other one is writing all these. I carried memories of some nice faces and some good people and a vast experience of the what "bad boys" do !! and stepped in Shishu Bihar School (SBS).

Shishu Bihar Days

SBS was no compare to HCS on asthetics. Classrooms had a depleted look with algaes on walls, the school dress (white shirt and maroon pants) was made to make guys look funny. There was no hard dress code, people used to wear slippers to school, sometimes without ties. HCS students were dressed far better. Coming to the students, there were kids from all spheres of life, very unlike HCS where I beleive the upper middle class could afford and that was predominant. However, in SBS all these things were superficial, what was within was a amalgam of some very good teachers (??) and some really smart students. Class 6 was the time when students moved in SBS from HCS and other from non-TBSE school. So I had company of few new guys. The first real impression I created was after the mid terms, when I scored good marks in Science and Maths. Because of the new environment, I went into a shell during that time. The HCS vibes were making the seniors look novice in using swear words. Gradually I came out of the shell and by class 8, I was again one of the naughty ones. I used to play decent football with water bottles, and was consistantly performing in Science subjects. One interesting incident was when I cried in the class - reason : someone (satyajit) took my book and passed it to the girls side, and I was helpless, could not talk to girls and I cried out of sheer helplessness. Though I was not crying but tears rolled down. So life was good then. Then came Class 9; everyone was excited as girls got to wear sarees and guys full pants - a big releif from displaying the thunder and hairy thighs. Yes till 8th we were in shorts ! With it came the pressure of performing - my elder brother did fantabulous in whatever he apperared. He went into BITS, Pilani. Guys and teacher started asking me, "What are you doing here?" I have faced this question in all phase of my acedemics. I felt good about it. I felt proud about it. It was then, when I was stuck by one beautiful face - monalisa. But soon reality put off the flame as she was of different caste, so i didnt approach (smart thinking as I sensed the hardship in the process). I was left admiring her for the next 3 yrs without any communication until my mother sensed it. 9th and 10th was my glorious years - stood 2nd in RMO and 9th in TMO and got top marks in HS exams in Sceince stream. I stood 6th in the class where 5 from my class got state honors. But my curve dipped drastically as I went into class 12. I stood a poor 25th in class. Science which was once my strongest point was now my low scoring area (not weak link). A timely intervention from maa saved the day for me. Its funny as I write today, but those things did pull me down more than pushing me up. I used to sing while reading, write names all places, bunk tutorial classes, bunked classes. My parents and dada were very concerned with my dip as were my teachers but no one figured out the problem. Thanks to maa, she got to find me writing "M" and after that it was confession time. She put on all the screws on and I was somewhat back on track. It was a shame. I regrouped to secure a good rank in Entrance exams. When I look back, it nice to come out of that, but that face still shines bright. Have seen her couple of times after that but the the image was burried somewhere within.