Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna

It's been a long time coming, but-
It's you guys and me, that's my whole blog,
They whisper in the comment section, 

"She's a lazy, lazy girl"

"She's a lazy, lazy girl" 

Whoosh, "Welcome to The Blog!"

While Taylor was busy in her Era's Tour, I was also busy with my Boards Tour. The difference? Well, she had fans screaming her name and sold-out stadiums, meanwhile I had invigilators glaring at me for daring to turn my head around, and a sold-out stock of erasers, desperately trying to erase my mistakes

See, I have a solid alibi. I wasn't just being lazy. I was literally stu-dying.  

The last two years gave me my life's best memories. Best people. And best place to hone my humour (not that I was successful). Moments are more fleeting than a sneeze. But its impression lasts longer than the red nose.

My high school was a blend of all genre. I got friends who made me laugh to death and teachers who resurrected me back with practical's deadline. 

Whenever I pass my school gate, I automatically drift to our classroom and the last two benches. The benches tolerated a lot from us. But I bet they miss our daily jamming of Bollywood songs, or playing dumbcharades where I would craft movie names, which Bollywood is too lame to create. But we didn't stop there--- we enacted the funniest version of Draupadi's vastraharan with mufflers! 

There are so many memories that it sometimes overwhelms me. I know I don't have a Time Turner, but I do have a Snapchat filled with all our weirdness. 

And in today's post I'll share some of the fun things we did during our farewell (now finally she's coming to the point) AND starting with our school's OG parampara-  Havan.

 

"It'll take more than the sacred fire to cleanse our dirty minds"

Next up we went to take the group picture with our class teacher putting on our innocent faces, pretending we hadn't just spent the entire year causing chaos in the back row. 

Too many good girls and boys in one frame xD

We all hollered our way back to our classrooms for the last time. The walls, the stairs, the cooler, and every inanimate thing seemed to echo our laughter, silently bidding farewell to the cacophony of our shared memories. The halls were buzzing with our voices or to put it like our teacher's famous saying, "it was a fish market". The place where you found your best friend, the place which was your unpaid therapist, where every accidental brush of elbows felt like a butterfly symphony in your stomach, where you traded lunches like currency and survived the greatest fountain pen theft of the decade - this school was a memory manufacturing factory coming with no expiry date for the memories.

I know life is very fleeting but if we know how to train the winds then we can fly through its storm with the grace of a kite. I don't know what the coming years hold in my life neither can I unravel the knots of past mistakes, but what I can do is stay. Stay in the delicate balance between what was and what will be. The transition from school life to college life will be a hard one. Leaving behind your comfort zone, your loved ones, or the thought of settling to a new place, where the clouds of the same sky would make unfamiliar shapes could scare you. But change is inevitable. Throwing yourself to hardships is so much tougher than is said because our natural tendency is to avoid pain. But loving is also human being's natural tendency. So however tough situation makes you don't let your heart go rock without emotions. It’s the only thing which makes us capable to love. Listen to your brain when it’s necessary but don't ghost your heart. 

Okay, enough of philosophy! (I seriously have a split-personality disorder), coming back to my farewell story.

After taking our admit cards, we made our way back to the ground. For the last time I peeked into our Chemistry lab, aka the burial ground for so many innocent test tubes and conical flasks. I will miss the smell of this lab so much! Every room was pulling me with some crumbs of memories like an ant drawn to a bread crumb. I hurried my way back to the ground for scribbling in each other's shirts.

Every time I screamed "Not this slang!" or "Not his name!" my friends ignored all my protests and filled my shirt with those trash. Trash which will later turn into a souvenir, kept neatly folded in my wardrobe. I felt naked walking on the school corridors with THAT shirt, fearing if any teacher saw something they shouldn't and then I realized- well, they have been in our shirts before!

And here's the masterpiece all my Picasso friends created:

Goodbyes were the hardest part. It wasn't as if we won't meet again, yet it was true that when we meet again we may have outgrown our youth. BUT I know my friends and myself well--

we will be always up for some kind of mischief even when wrinkles will adorn us!

Here's the most civilized picture of us:

No, we weren't kicked out for being this civilized:)

After the end of all events, when we stepped out of the gate, something was pulling us back and we lingered sometime outside the gate. That moment of hesitation of not wanting to leave our yellow-green sky, of smiling a last sad smile and waving this beloved abode goodbye. I wish someone would have clicked a photo of that exact moment, of that lingering love.

But then again, maybe that's why we have poetry and blog- to capture the moments, cameras can't.

 

Xoxo

Adrika