The hall was quieter than a graveyard and over seventy five students were scribbling in Kannada (the language I was scribbling in), Hindi, French and others I can’t remember or spell. Well, not everybody was scribbling, some were counting invisible flies, number of bulbs, fans and windows in the hall. It was an exam hall in the basement of my five storey school building, painted in red blood from the outside and the dark, musty basement. The basement mimicked an Indian version of a dungeon, where creepy things, shady things, illegal things or just things could happen or happened, if I were to believe some not very reliable sources.
I was on zombie mode, due to the sleep deprivation and caffeine running in my blood. I finished the paper like a boss, even though I had dozed off for ten minutes but walked out fully awake to party on 31st March, 2010. I just finished the last of my 10th standard ICSE board exam & now I wanted to have a great start to my summer.
I exchanged socially obligatory greetings with all those faces that I’ll never ever have to see again (wasn’t that lucky) and walked to the parking to find a few others sitting on my bike. A south Indian movie scene was brewing, my girlfriend had a fan club. They’d recently found out that we were doing the dirty dance and wanted to threaten me to stop seeing her, talking to her and some such things. I tried to listen but I couldn’t, so I said have an amazing day and life ahead, now go away. They were obviously offended and were trying to start a fight, they pulled in for a short meeting and while that happened one of them said “go”. I was more than happy to leave, and like a kid on sugar rush I left, a little shaken but mostly excited for a brilliant evening. I went home and changed got a ride back to school from my mum, because that was where the group had planned to meet and start the afternoon.
Today I don’t have a bully, school uniform, parties to go to, a social life, a girlfriend or so I like to believe.
I don’t think I ever told the girlfriend or anybody about this incident, because the rest of that day was a bunch of nice adjectives. So the Telugu film parking scene didn’t seem important enough. But the last day was the only highlight that entire summer. I can’t remember anything that happened, except things like my first breakup and breaking away from the group. I did do a lot of things, but sadly I don’t remember any and it’s sadder that I haven’t really made an attempt to remember or record. After my first semester I made an attempt, to record my daily events. I may end up buying or making (because that sounds better) a personal diary to put down things, because it seems like the time to do it.
In the last year of college, no such thing happened but instead the blog happened, it’s a record of my writing, time and the last two years.