Monday 2nd February 2018

by Siddharth Soni

The anticipated boom of the bell rang and many discrete feelings arose, hovering so naturally in the environment of my examination hall that my glittering eyes foretold seamlessly, ‘Exams are over.’ Fearlessly whirling in the air of freedom, I saw the rejoicing girls with their unbuttoned chest-cardigans as it blew, following the direction of their whirl and the only noticeable leaflets of the diagonal corners were left chasing their happiness. Walking in groups of four- soon the broad, freshly cemented path bestrewed with school-buses, was filled with smiling school going children. All celebrating an end to a past twenty days of utter desperation and toil, excitement and trauma, failures and triumphs , seizes and festivity. I could see a very pleasant aura around everyone and it becomes, owed to my visibility that I could render a little part of my celebration gliding into theirs. Gazing them, pretty sequentially, I exploit my own sense of emotional understanding as I seek sensation into a secluded cluster of enjoyment, midst hearing the startling sound of barrels that accidentally trigger when a hilarious remark, often about the examination is thrown. Still standing too far, I count an around sixty footsteps as I reach the glitzy faces of my batch mates. Some of them illustrated a very profound gaze of openness, as they smile willfully. While some others had a degree of prejudice in their smiles.

‘Siddharth has written a poem’ screamed one among the latter(Ritesh), as he snatches a deeply sentimental piece of paper from my palms. Only before, a protest concomitant action would I take, there was one unwanted, not neglectable flock of studentship around me, all gazing with a bated breath as if I would show them a legacy notice declaring that they are millionaires ! Semi-circling me both suspiciously and expecting-ly they stare so robust fully into my eyes that I would hardly digest a cough ailment in my trachea. As I shot the poem, most uninterested, rather ignorant class of people would halfway interrupt and distract my attention. Laughing along with them, somehow hiding that nub of extravagance and disapproving-ness towards some self-demanding students like Rishabh, I would just try to bear it anyway. After-all, Who wants to be a foul mouth?

But for one conspicuous reason, I feel there is no harm being a foul mouth. There are strikingly teachers as benevolent as Gitomoni Mam and People as overbearing as (won’t mention) in the same school, under the same roof. I was just walking before I could just reach a small, smooth, and gleaming gate of one super-luxurious chamber of my school. I had a couple of legal letters in my hands on which I needed a much necessary, rather urgent signatures of my principal.

How sad it is that those couple of signatures have took me more than two days!! (Still not done) Is that our principal is such a big dignitary that a ‘Kriti Sahitya’ literary medalist would keep roving for so long, or is she so egoistical to call her so. Absolutely Not! She is one admirable personality. My disappointment approximate a couple of barriers, so overbearing that their indecent, unpunctual working has made me, like often smile at their ignorance and kick a road-side pebble, that such people, too disappointingly are administrative heads of a school as big as ”DPS Guwahati.’

If there are, however still some one to say that such disorder, disobedience and under-estimation of a student’s dignity is a part of school, just give me your home address- Maybe I will come and slap you so hard that you will understand that Student is the highest dignity of a school. No Principal, no administrative staff, or PA’s to the principal (particularly), whatsoever could equal a dignity that a student posses.

This particular blog has, in my displeasure (because anger is certainly not the part of my life) extended too long.

Maybe flying to Jaipur for Literature festival on Wed,

Love,
Siddharth Soni

Tags: , , , ,

· · · ◊ ◊ ◊ · · ·

Leave a Reply