note: wrote it almost four years ago for my school magzine...this article and its issue has always been close to my heart...do bear with any loss of standards coz i was only a child when this was written [:)]
I closed my eyes,took a deep breath and entered my Alma-Mater,St. Mary’s Convent Allahabad.It has been a long long time since I entered my scholl.i breathed in the scent of the place and looked around for signs of familiarity.
A whole lot of memories came flooding back to me as I walked inside.I happened to notice the cycle stand.it had definetly grown to twice its size but it still reminded me of the dear place where we used to share secrets,eat whatever was left in our tiffins,where we had many liquid moments and emotional reconciliations.
I walked on and came into my view the dear buildings,the old trees,the basket ball court…
I looked at the field and remembered how we used to play “sky mountain river sea” when we were in the primary clases. I also remembered how we used to practice marching to the beats of the drum.As I stood there I could almost hear the long forgotten sounds floating in the air “doom doom dashy,dashy dashy doom”.i turned away frm there to stop the flow of ters.
Nostalgia crept into my heart when I peped inside one of the classrooms.it looked hauntingly familiar.as I looked inside I could see me sitting and listenting to a lecture attentively.All of a sudden I slipped a toffee inside my mouth and the teacher chose that moment to ask me a question.I then saw a very subdued myself going out to spit the toffee in the bin.
By and by I came to the mary ward building.this was the place where I had spent two most significant years of my school life,or should I say my entire life.yes,this was the place where I spent the college section of my life.i looked inside and instinvely recognized it as the room where I spent my class twelve,I peeped in and there was I again copying a sum feverishly,badgering our teacher with questions,teasing one of our studious classs mates,eating tiffin in the middle of a classs,trying to run out of the class in the duration between two lectures,gossiping…I was woken from my trance by my daughter.She came inside the empty room and reminded me that I was there actually to witness the prize distribution ceremony of her passing out year.
The ceremony reflected the same SMC spirit which I had learnt , cherished and treasured.i almost expected Sr.christina who was our principal then to end the show in her usual wittingly inspiring style.
The show was over and I had to return.as I was walking back I realized that this was the place where I once belonged,but this sense of belonging has not ended with time;instead it has increased.I came across the new office building and saw two gigantic bards hanging at the entrance.in it was engraved the names of the teachers who had done their unforgettable service here.a scanned the lost and came acrss a lot of names that were not names to me.these were the teachers who besides teaching me how to use the pencil properly and differencial equations ,, had also taught me valuable values which have helped me emerge out of any situation as a winner.i murmured a silent thanx to all my teachers who have contributed a great deal to shaping my character and making me what I am today.
As I was crossing the threshold of the school.i don’t know how these lines crept into my mind-
“I have had playmates,I have had companions
In my days of childhood,in my joyful school days.
All,all are gone,the old familiar faces”
….but they will live in my heart always.
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