PUBLISHED: High School Yearbook Write-up

I found this article I wrote for my school's annual magazine. It's such a high school me!...

I miss you guys so much. The school is big and everything, but nobody is nice. Only a few girls talk to me and the teachers look as if they are about to insult me. I want to come back!

As I hugged my friends on the last official day of my second school, I could not help recall my first few months there. I used to write letters like this to friends in my previous school. I used to cry as soon as I returned home after school. I sat for hours wondering if the kind-hearted principal of my old school (for ten years) would take me back. Since my parents had spent enough for the new admission, I did not want them to buy the costly winter uniform, thinking, “I would go back anyways!” Even my fourteen-year-old sister vividly remembers how much I sulked then. So three years later, when I bade teary-eyed farewell to friends, the irony made me smile; I did not wish to leave.  The school I dreaded before changed the whole picture as it fostered me with values, challenges and ambition.

The transition had been like never before. It was an all-girl, highly reputed institution with more rules and more teachers. The students seemed so cold and discomforting. They looked at me as if I was an exotic new animal at the zoo. They asked me questions about my earlier grades and school. I used to be very loud and confident, but there, I was a lamb. When teachers enquired me I gave very meek replies. I just could not cope with all the novelty, and sorely missed my earlier school.

Still, I had to try as I did not find myself going back or forward.  My parents had chosen a better school for my sake. If I wanted to make things right, I could do so by making the most of the “opportunity” they had given to me.  So I continued being a good regular student. I did my assignments on time. I studied hard for tests.  Unlike others, I was very responsive in class and approached especially my class teacher if I faced problems.

First term ended and my scores showed outstanding numbers! That’s when I got a little push to loosen up, be a little less nervous. Also, people talked about me. “Oh, she’s the one who topped in English!” And a few even asked me to tutor them! Teachers too appreciated my attempts. So, my lost self-confidence was retrieved back and I embarked on a journey that later proved to be full of friends-for-life, unforgettable moments, amazing teachers and a hoard of activities.

Instead of classmates, I ended up with three of my teachers in the elephant ride during an educational trip in sophomore year and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was on the first row of our green-house march past during the annual sports day the same year. Similarly, in my first year there, despite my (disappointingly) mediocre show in the track and field events, singing in the school choir for the school’s golden jubilee celebration programs was a feat.

My pronunciation of “Sh” as just “S” improved while reading Shakespeare’s stories and I gradually stopped feeling embarrassed my ‘new student’ accent. In class, I got the title “Question mark” from peers for driving the teachers crazy with my questions.

All in all, the experience was exhilarating and if I had quit at the beginning itself, I would not have become what I am today.   The phase of adaptation that I went through gave me insight to tackle many more changes to come and I have learnt that hardships make us stronger.  I feel that I will never have such problems regarding changes as I know that things will pass.  I will rather extract the most out of the difficulties I face and become a stronger person.  My comprehension of the fact that new developments in life can be awarding has left me yelling, “bring it on”!

© 2011

WATCHED: Wild

I watched the movie ‘Into the Wild’ yesterday. The movie is so poetic that it made me want to write. It brought back the ‘wild’ in me. My wild is the stream of thoughts I used to get from the black sky while sitting atop the winding staircase that leads up to the roof. It is familiar to the sound of calm I heard while canoeing at Lake Itasca.  It is even the handful of short poems I wrote, about crushes and heartbreaks.  It struck me that I had abandoned these abnormalities, for the wish to be real. To embrace life as it is and to act rather than muse or write. The movie reunited me with that emotionally artistic  trait and it was a joyous discovery.  I have heard a lot from friends about this movie. The fact that it is a true story enthralls everybody. I have seen people giving themselves the last name “Supertramp” on Facebook. It is understandable to wish to be like Alexander Supertramp. But to what extent? Here are my takeaways from the movie.

The story is of a writer who undertakes a journey to be free from society and see if he can live on his own. There are various factors leading him to this decision. Let us look at his ambition to travel and then to write about it. This ambition contrasted with my reason to stop turning every experience I had to ink. I had been suppressing the writer in me. I thought making the people and stories around me my profession was a bit unfair to them.  I thought that it is selfish to dig for experiences just so that I can write about it. I started to refrain and slowly lost the habit of delving into the joyous musings that came to me after being really inspired and appreciative of the beauty of things.  But now I see my writing goals a bit differently.  Yes, I want to be a writer. I need to call myself a writer first. So here I am finally fearlessly declaring that I am a writer. Not a hobby. Not a side job. Not even ‘I want to be a New York Times contributing op-ed writer after I am in a great position with a non-profit and can make opinions, observations, and predictions.’ It is a part of me and I need to, and thus, embrace it.

Both the first time I watched it and yesterday, I googled about the story. Somewhere on the internet, a commenter says that Chris McCandless alias Supertramp need not have died because he had been living quite close to an alternate route to cross the flooded river. I also learned from Google results that people are considering his a case of Schizophrenia. To consider someone who is experimenting life schizophrenic sounded sad. However it is plausible to tend to explore his state of mind; McCandless was indeed tackling his family depression issues. We also learn about his inquisitive childhood attribute.  I don’t want to nitpick on his mental state because he did not follow a path of self-depreciation.  He was brave enough to go searching for the brighter side of life that would solve his problems. Everybody needs some soul-searching now and then and McCandless needed one. He had just graduated from college and wanted to follow his own path to tackle life, a path far from the mundane. It is just like taking time off between changing careers. Or rebuilding self after a painful relationship.

McCandless  meets Wayne in South Dakota and when they talk about life and society, Wayne warns that he should not be thinking so deeply about people, their rules, and the society. I saw some truth in that but again, there are also that small percentage of people in the world who fall into McCandless’ category.  It is indeed a matter of choice. Which one would you ignore? The societal make up of family, profession, technology, and possession, or the inner self-aching to question the society and rebel and renounce the normal going-ons?

One major question I asked myself was if I’d be able to reconsider my life goals and be like him. No. I owe that to the people I love.  But I am a sucker for such experiences that send a stream of transcendent and equally simple energy my way. I need to at least try it out and I have been contemplating the best way to do so without being a heart-breaker like Alexander.  It did not end perfectly for him. He finally missed the comfort of society and right when he was planning his return, things turned around. He did take a risky path but succeeded in getting what he wanted. So, it might be risky, but look at each new person and place he saw, loved or hated, and carried on, one life lesson richer!

The glory of a kid-dom

I read of some really funny beliefs people had as a child, here

http://www.buzzfeed.com/sirajdatoo/ridiculous-things-people-used-to-believe-9o1f

So I have been trying to recall what I believed to be true or false. Here are a few I can think of:

While riding on a public bus, I worried about the people or bike riders the bus passed, thinking they might have been run over by the bus.

I thought Dandelion seeds were flying insects.

I had a neighbor who used to tease me about cutting my ears off. I was scared of him.

Then there are weird or fun things I enjoyed...

Eating left over toothpaste from a used thrown toothpaste tube on the street (and getting caught in action by mom)

Eating “Chari Amilo” growing behind the house

In all its sourness

Holding these leaves between your fingers and blowing at it so that it rotates

Playing dandi biyo in the alley 

Making fortresses in the tori baari (mustard field)

Catching dragonflies at school and comparing who caught the best one 

Once we jumped from the top of our one-storied house onto the drying mustard stack.  It was my brother’s idea.  This was me on my turn: 

Doing this:

carolinecalcote.com

Making doll houses from waste cloth strips and wai wai cartons

Couch hurdle race – jumping  from one furniture to another in the living room

During lunch time, mixing everybody’s masala and ghee packet from Wai wai or rum pum to make achar

 

Playing this game: 

Q or X would be the most fun!

Watching Meena Cartoon religiously

Making these:

http://www.examiner.com

I would love to hear your stories!