Walking down the memory lanes- Sainik School Goalpara

Its 4.30 in the morning. I got a Denzil Washington series today but managed to finish just one of them today. Then got into Youtube as usual. Went on to watch a video created by school alumni. Huh!! a three minute video ( it's a mere collection of photos with some serene background music) was nothing short of memory tabs, within fraction of secs, i went back to my school life. Like a trip on a time-machine, i went thru all the events that took place suring my SSG days, pictures right infront of me on a 70mm screen.

SAINIK SCHOOL GOALPARA...

Its been a wonderful journey during my stint in SSG. HOw it all started...a written cum personal interview during my 6th standard. Personal interview along with parents was quite unheard of then. Sitting opposite to me was a Lt.Col taking my interview, literally screwing me up in front of my parents. I came out shattered but my confident dad showed confidence over what had happened in the closed room. Well, he teaches student's psychology, I could not question his blind faith in me!!

After my call letter came in, another letter followed in with all the pre-requisites...preparation nothing short of a to-be-bride shopping. Four pairs of shoes, same no.of socks, hold-all, mattress, 4 half and full shirts, briefs, undies etc. I could neither understand the reasoning behind those numbers nor did i tried to find out. For i was the happiest to see so much shopping being done for. The day came and my parents saw me off the hostel. The emotions were very much similar to TZP (not that i was dyslexic) when my parents left me in the early summer morning after a day's stay. Couple of days went by to acclimatize with the culture and learing survival instincts with kids from all blocks. The next i remember was of the crew cut that i got, got into a new high...felt like yes! i belonged to this place. First year in hostel, most of it passed by listening tosuicide stories in the hostel, spirit-calls, lot of sports, PT, no studies...managed to get the mere average marks.

CLASS SEVEN- Gained further more confidence in terms of people touch. I had this Bhutanese guy, Dorjee, who used to steal my Horlicks...but man, he was an amazing basketball player...could the Bhutan govt.promote anything apart from Basketball...Some of my Shillong friends, rather flunked friends, used to whistle around in that 'Winds of change' theme, typical of them...exchanging casettes and walkies under the bed in the midnight...Ahha!! my favourite part....Recitation competition...i enrolled myself for junior level recitation comp.,as usual, the winner was already announced even before the idea of comp. took off. My hostel warden, Mr.Phukan, adviced me to go on for some training on recitation at my English teacher's quarter after school. This was a golden opportunity, not many got it. Tell you what, my teacher was a divorcee, many of the students actually had crushes on her...i did not say 'am an exception either. I used to visit her, come back hostel...the kids rounding me up, just to hear my creative self drawing imaginary situations that looked so interesting for the 12-13 year olds. Then came the D-Day...i had this bad memory, could not cram a 50-some liner poem. What i did was, once i reached the stage, went ahead into the dais before the start and kept the pages in there, that's the last resort i'd opt for in case i screw up the recitation...the comp.started, one down, two down, i was third...Man! cant tell you, my legs were shaky, oh god!! what am i supposed to do...i dont remember anything....took off the paper clips and started reading without looking anywhere else....somehow i closed, displayed a big thank you for bearing me out and sat across. RELIEF!! did not bother how it went...it was an achievement in itself...anyway, the results were known in advance, the Headmaster's daughter, my classmate...was always deservingly the best..cant contest her...even others were better...the chief judge came by and declared the results...1st.Esha (huh! as expected), 2nd Prabal...(huh!! wait..did i hear it right)...it was me...could not believe it...looked at the judges..were they doped?

Eighth standard- Tough year this was...the kids were being tranferred to the senior hostel. The seniors were not the usual 10 or 10+ students...they had undergone the rigorous trainings for years now...their physical attributes said it all, looked very fearsome, each one of them. We had all heard about the ragging days, the INTRO sessions and the year of slavery that would follow. Huh!! where do i start from...you hear 'Room-5', someone among the kids would run for the service!! what did not i do...polished the shoes, metals etc. of seniors, their NCC belts...i was the favored choice for all the 40+ senior students during their practicals...for my duel skill of drawing and decent handwriting became my killing habit...numerous sleepless nights followed during the yearends. I did enjoy breaks from different schedules because of that as well, would enjoy a treat from their account in the school cafeterias.

TO BE CONTINUED...............