Sunday, July 13, 2008

A tribute to my schools

I am now in a transition phase, the one in which a 'school student' becomes a 'college goer', from absolute obedience to unobstructed freedom, from long hours of hard work to long hours of fun.
So I am told.
No doubt, college will be a different experience altogether.
At this juncture, I would like to restrospect with regard to my school life. A meagre tribute I can afford for the invaluable contribution they have made to my life.
My first tryst with schooling was in a village near Cheyyar, called Peranamallur. A village infested with monkeys, scorpions and snakes. I still remember crying my head off every morning, till my teacher dragged me inside. Except for the monkeys which we had for company under the tree, I do not remember much about this school.
My next stop, a Pre School inside Kalpakkam Atomic Power Plant Township. It was run by the wives of the scientists working in the plant. I vividly remember my colouring classes. I guess the seeds of my interest in this form of art were sown here.
I moved on to GRT Matriculation School in West Mambalam Chennai. For me used to one room schools in rural India, this was a palace. I was once told that my elder cousin (a year elder to me) studied here. Every day during the break, this UKG kid went searching for him in all classes from Pre KG to class 2, blissfully unaware that he had long left for Scotland.
My sister meanwhile was put up in Kendriya Vidyalaya, Ashok Nagar. My father felt it was necessary for me to study under CBSE.
There began my KV journey.
I can never thank that institution enough.
I went to KV AN as raw clay and left it in mid school as a bright kid. My habits, my diction, my policies, everything were learnt in this institution.
My father passed away when I was 12 years old. My mother took a transfer to FD Kolkata.
Kolkata...
I hated it when my flight landed in NSCB airport, Dum Dum. I hated everything, the incessant rain, the dinghy streets, the bright yellow taxis, our HUGE home, the scary looking Care taker, the bangla maid.
I hated my school, Kendriya Vidyalaya Ballygunge, a mile inside an Army Campus.
That is the beauty of the City of Joy. 3 months later I came to Chennai for my cousin's wedding. The very next day I wanted to go back!! The City changed me. The school changed me.
The crude pot, that I was when I arrived, was masterfully completed. I had the fortune to study under teachers who considered themselves as facilitatiors for education.
Kolkata taught me many things. I was introduced to politics, finance, girls, music, revolution, nature, etc.
My last stop in my school express was P.S.Senior Sec School, Mylapore, Chennai.
I was told it is the best among schools in Chennai. So I was elated to join this prestigious school.
I can never forget the first few days. Everyone looked like a genius, everyone a competitor.
I played low for the first year and finally got into the act in the 2nd, once I had fairly gauged each and every person in the class.
P.S is different. It is one of the most competitive places on Earth. The sheer determination of students is amazing. I have never had, or ever will have such grit and determination.
I met some people who greatly influenced my thinking, Satyaki, Natraj, NB, Sharanya, LJ, K Sriram, Sundi, to name a few. Each one so unique, I could not stop admiring this school which had put such an assortment of talent under one roof.
Like everyone (almost) in this school, I too cherished the IIT Dream. I realized that there were a few in this school whom I could never compete with. My only consolation is the fact that I had qualified and been offered admission in an IIT.
Here ends my School journey, from the banyan tree in Peranamallur to the heart of Chennai. I have many regrets, but as they say Alls well that ends well.
Soon, College Jet will take off. Fasten your seat belt Jicks!

Saturday, July 12, 2008

The Colours of Life

I have never been much of a Poet. But a conversation with a friend of mine on colors brought out a poetic splurge, and here is my first poem in years:
(PS: don't expect anything great.)

The Colors of Life

The curtain between the fortunate blind and the cursed rest,
the mist that ceases not to exist,
engulfing, alarming, enchanting and irritating.
Whats in a color? No man can answer,

They are all the same,
each one, an ancient poem,
written in a string of doggerel and rhythm that few fathom,
promising to reveal;
the promise - the ultimate seduction,
but disappointing in the end.
I wonder, was the wait, the charm?
Ha, musings of the mental poet!

I am slapped across my face,
by a sea of fluorescence,
its demeanor meaner than the demons,
I have heard of in Grandma tales;

I seek solace in the open arms of Pink,
so warm, so innocent as the baby's smile,
no wonder it is the poet's love;

I come upon the sea of red,
the symbol of love, lust and desire,
its fragrance so heavy as the sound of the lyre,
its green stalk , the throne of the King;

I wander along;
I am greeted by Yellow;
the color of the one with the name I bear,
I welcome the change,
a color so passionately insipid, yet so charming!

As the poetic mind marches on,
I look up at the Sky,
at the the canvas of Blue, the color of Life,
boundless glory, speechless might,

I wonder, as I look around,
A color for each emotion, 
A color for each day, 
A color for each win and a color for each fall.
Nature is the true dealer.