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Today morning, I was driving my daughter to her school pre-school. She just turned three and started her pre-school. Before that, she used to go to the same Montessori, but toddler class. We used to even call that 'School'. On getting promoted to her pre-school, she started believing that she is a 'Big Girl' and school is only for babies. So, whenever we talk about her school, she corrects me “Mamma, that is pre-school, not school. I am a big girl now!” So yeah, we were driving to her pre-school and she was continuously babbling about how Mr. Sun was still sleeping and her car seat was cold and it's evening or morning and so on.
With the onset of winter, the morning was cloudy and a bit foggy. It rained last night. So, the streets were damp. Everything looked gray! I am not a big fan of winter in the US. It makes me gloomy. I was driving a little absent-mindedly while responding to my daughter's chit-chats. I saw a bunch of school goer kids at the intersect, trying to cross the road. I stopped to let them cross first. It was a mixed group of 6-8 kids of different ages. They were all talking and giggling and wearing some bright and interesting dresses and hair. Soon, my gloomy morning turned vivid. Some of them were on a skateboard. They crossed the road without even noticing me. They reminded me of my school days and it was so different.
Growing up in a small suburb in India, in the 90's, in a middle-class family, my childhood was simple, yet remarkable. There was nothing in excess. Still, we were content. We had to wear uniforms to school. My dad used to take me daily on a bicycle. I sat in the front until I started riding my own cycle. I went to a co-ed school. In India, there are schools only for boys and only for girls. Mine was for both. The primary classes (Class I to Class V)started from 6:30 in the morning with a Prayer, a particular song which we had to sing daily. Classes from VI till XII were at noon. There are so many memories that are flashing through my mind today. The classroom, the blackboard, the desks, the playground and certainly the school romance.
The "School Romance" was very different, back then. Even in that age of no phone, mobile, Facebook and Whatsup, there were a bunch of macho boys who loved to imagine themselves as a Hero in a Movie. Though the access to movies was limited, a weekly interaction with Bollywood was of plenty influence to those days of puberty. They wore the newest shirt they got on some festival, took their manly ride out( a Bicycle) and stormed around the town in search of their "Soulmates". They got skilled with practice. There were a few formulae to impress a girl.A Bicycle stunt or a love letter or just following a girl to get noticed were the top amongst all. Love letters were a troublesome job and also it had to be creative. Spellings and Handwriting were the biggest hurdles to cross. But who cared about those spelling mistakes if there were a few cute Hearts in a letter? The most popular ones are "I Love You" with some hearts - an easy and effective solution.
What was the parent's role in all these dramas? Mostly, the parents were unaware and dead against. That made the whole idea more lucrative and just an exact scene from a movie. If the kids got caught somehow, they had to start a revolt to prove how much they were in love. But most of the time, a tight slap from their parents was enough to cure the "Loveria".
Well, there were also some kids like me. Discovering all those romantic stories from my class, my mom sat with me one day and explained how inappropriate it is for a kid at that age. It was a clear threat that if I became a part of a story like that from my school, I would be disowned. But, that warning was not at all necessary for me. It was me who was scared to death if a boy followed me home. I was always an introvert. So, making friends with some unknown boys was not my forte.
One day, a boy threw a paper at me, on my way back home.I let it fall on the road itself and biked faster. It was not me being rude. It's just that I did not know what else to do. Then another guy, whom I had seen a couple of times before, stopped me on my way back from school. He started explaining how he was not able to eat, study and sleep after he had seen me. I asked him all concerned if he had informed his parents or if I should tell them.He got offended and left. My winner story revolves around a guy from my painting class. I used to attend a Painting class, every Sunday afternoon. I walked alone to the class since it was just behind my place. There was a boy who made me feel uncomfortable every day by doing or not doing something. He used to wait outside the class and followed me to the class to take a seat somewhere near me. Soon, I started spotting him everywhere I went. In the class, we had to remove our shoes before entering. One day, while leaving, I wore my shoes and felt something soft. I saw that guy standing nearby. So, I wore my shoes in a hurry and walked home. On reaching, I removed my shoes and discovered a Red Rose inside. I took the crushed rose and threw it and went inside. It happened again for the next consecutive weeks. Maybe, he was expecting a response while I preferred to ignore. Realizing that his innovative idea was not being praised enough, or even noticed, he decided to confront me. Well, it did not go well and he scared me off. So, I decided to let my parents know about it and the rest was history.
It's so incredible how such small silly things take up the most room in our heart. I still remember so many stories from my childhood. Though it looked stressful that time, it puts a smile on my face today. I can't stop thinking about those golden days, those friends, those not-so-friends and my school, where most of my beautiful memories were created.
Growing up in a small suburb in India, in the 90's, in a middle-class family, my childhood was simple, yet remarkable. There was nothing in excess. Still, we were content. We had to wear uniforms to school. My dad used to take me daily on a bicycle. I sat in the front until I started riding my own cycle. I went to a co-ed school. In India, there are schools only for boys and only for girls. Mine was for both. The primary classes (Class I to Class V)started from 6:30 in the morning with a Prayer, a particular song which we had to sing daily. Classes from VI till XII were at noon. There are so many memories that are flashing through my mind today. The classroom, the blackboard, the desks, the playground and certainly the school romance.
The "School Romance" was very different, back then. Even in that age of no phone, mobile, Facebook and Whatsup, there were a bunch of macho boys who loved to imagine themselves as a Hero in a Movie. Though the access to movies was limited, a weekly interaction with Bollywood was of plenty influence to those days of puberty. They wore the newest shirt they got on some festival, took their manly ride out( a Bicycle) and stormed around the town in search of their "Soulmates". They got skilled with practice. There were a few formulae to impress a girl.A Bicycle stunt or a love letter or just following a girl to get noticed were the top amongst all. Love letters were a troublesome job and also it had to be creative. Spellings and Handwriting were the biggest hurdles to cross. But who cared about those spelling mistakes if there were a few cute Hearts in a letter? The most popular ones are "I Love You" with some hearts - an easy and effective solution.
I Love You...
The Bollywood fever had even stricken some girls. The count of Love Letters and the number of interested Romeos buzzing around were some factors to make a girl "pretty" and "popular". The style is an all-time favorite weapon for girls. Given the lack of exposure and supplies, they had to do the best they could with their limited awareness. A pretty face was not enough. Girls started walking on roads as they were walking on ramps. Uniform was a MUST to our school. So, they folded and pulled the socks down to expose some skin and the boys got clean-bowled by their finesse. The girls always got to choose the Winner and flaunt the "love of life". The heart-broken and failed Romeos felt humiliated and totally perished until they saw their next "Soulmate".What was the parent's role in all these dramas? Mostly, the parents were unaware and dead against. That made the whole idea more lucrative and just an exact scene from a movie. If the kids got caught somehow, they had to start a revolt to prove how much they were in love. But most of the time, a tight slap from their parents was enough to cure the "Loveria".
Well, there were also some kids like me. Discovering all those romantic stories from my class, my mom sat with me one day and explained how inappropriate it is for a kid at that age. It was a clear threat that if I became a part of a story like that from my school, I would be disowned. But, that warning was not at all necessary for me. It was me who was scared to death if a boy followed me home. I was always an introvert. So, making friends with some unknown boys was not my forte.
One day, a boy threw a paper at me, on my way back home.I let it fall on the road itself and biked faster. It was not me being rude. It's just that I did not know what else to do. Then another guy, whom I had seen a couple of times before, stopped me on my way back from school. He started explaining how he was not able to eat, study and sleep after he had seen me. I asked him all concerned if he had informed his parents or if I should tell them.He got offended and left. My winner story revolves around a guy from my painting class. I used to attend a Painting class, every Sunday afternoon. I walked alone to the class since it was just behind my place. There was a boy who made me feel uncomfortable every day by doing or not doing something. He used to wait outside the class and followed me to the class to take a seat somewhere near me. Soon, I started spotting him everywhere I went. In the class, we had to remove our shoes before entering. One day, while leaving, I wore my shoes and felt something soft. I saw that guy standing nearby. So, I wore my shoes in a hurry and walked home. On reaching, I removed my shoes and discovered a Red Rose inside. I took the crushed rose and threw it and went inside. It happened again for the next consecutive weeks. Maybe, he was expecting a response while I preferred to ignore. Realizing that his innovative idea was not being praised enough, or even noticed, he decided to confront me. Well, it did not go well and he scared me off. So, I decided to let my parents know about it and the rest was history.
It's so incredible how such small silly things take up the most room in our heart. I still remember so many stories from my childhood. Though it looked stressful that time, it puts a smile on my face today. I can't stop thinking about those golden days, those friends, those not-so-friends and my school, where most of my beautiful memories were created.
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| My School |
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