We had been looking forward to the annual school picnic right
from the first day in class X. Our annual school picnic used to be held on the
31st of December every year and it was always a special affair. This year it was
all the more special because it would be the last. It was class X! We would be
leaving school, many of us, and this would be the last of the many such picnics
that had become unforgettable experiences in our life.
Ten years of
school taught me that school students are of two types: the good and the
naughty. The latter number far outweighs the former and the best thing is that
naughty students pride themselves on their naughtiness and even tell tales of
the same with unmistakable glee. As may be evident by now, I certainly belonged
to the “naughty” group, and was well renowned with class-mates and teachers for
all my antics.
The attraction of going on
a school picnic was greatly peppered by the opportunities it provided for
unrestrained mischief. But this year was different. The charm of the picnic lay
elsewhere this time: it was nostalgia washed with memories stretching back to
childhood,
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That morning I woke up earlier then usual. The alarm did not have to
ring at six o’clock for I was up at 5:00. We were scheduled to meet at the
school gate at 7 sharp. Mrs. Molly was a hard taskmaster and tolerated no
licenses. No, not even on a picnic day. But on the 31st of December 2009, the
urgency was all mine. Far from being late, I was actually rushing down to the
school gate all through the night. My mind ran back and forth, recalling
randomly all the mish-mash of memories from the treasure-house of my
experiences. At 5:30 I had already bathed and went to the terrace to view the
sunrise in the winter chill. It was a beautiful sight, solemnizing the beauty of
the day. At the same time it also made me thoughtful. I realized that life has
many chapters, and if one closes, the other is about to begin.
Hurriedly
collecting my thoughts I went downstairs to gobble the breakfast that my mother
had readied by now. She had also packed a host of goodies for me and my friends.
There were the usual favourites such as her special plum cake,
moncler outlet, pasta, and french
fries. But what was a picnic without a basketful of fruits? So apples, guavas,
oranges and bananas peacefully co-existed in the large wicker basket that had
been my constant companion in all my school picnics. Mom understood that I was
pensive,
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me that true friendships live on beyond the boundaries of time and space. I
nodded. My mind was asking,
moncler,
“Really? Will Pallavi be my friend ten years down the line too? Will she never
forget me?” Mom did not say much but she asked me to enjoy my day as it would be
a special day all my life. I kissed her bye and realized that the day ahead was
certainly going to be wonderful and memorable and this was no time for
sadness.
I hurried out to the gate where Ramu kaka was waiting to drive
me down to school. School was barely 10 minutes by car and I reached at 6:30.
Many of my class mates had already arrived. Perhaps I was not the only one to
have spent a sleepless night and woken up early that day. Pallavi was certainly
waiting with bated breath for me and we hugged as soon as we met. Soon enough
Rachna, Nidhi, Ritu, Sharmila and Jaya joined in. We had endless things to talk
about and though we spent about 6 hours together everyday, the banter was
constant. Mrs. Molly asked us to line up for the bus and we filed in, each one
hankering for the last row of seats.
Comfortably seated, we started at 7
sharp. We were headed to Bandel Church where we would put in our prayers. Then
we would go for a boat ride on the Ganges we were told. But all that really
mattered that day was our togetherness,
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fact that we were in school uniforms seemed a blessing that day. On earlier
picnics how we wished that we would be allowed to wear what we wanted. But today
the school dress was suddenly important. Suddenly we felt we would miss wearing
this dress that had become a part of our identity.
Breakfast was to be
had in the bus itself. We had our fill of bread, cakes, eggs and fruits. The bus
reached Bandel Church at 8:30. We went in to the church to offer our prayers and
light candles. The church was a sobering experience and it calmed us down. I
thanked god for all the good things in my life and prayed for my friends. I
prayed for my mom and dad and also asked for strength to choose the right thing
to do.
We lighted candles and incense and took a detour of the Church
premises. By the time all the girls had assembled at the gate of the church it
was already ten and time for freshening up and a round of tea and snacks. A
lodge had been booked and we went in there. Lunch was already being cooked and
it was decided that we would go for the boat-ride post lunch. Right then, it was
time for games. Right from antakshari to dumb-charades, we played what ever came
to our minds and completely exhausted ourselves. We were now ready to attack
lunch.
Lunch was a wholesome affair of pulao-roti-paneer-chicken. We ate
to our hearts fill. By two everyone was full. Mrs. Molly asked us to rest for
about an hour. The boat-ride would begin at 3.
The boat-ride on the river
was an experience far beyond our expectations. The wobbly boat took us to the
middle of the river where horizons seemed to fade on all sides. It was calm, as
calm as calmness itself. We were enthralled. Soumi asked the boatman to sing for
us and he was truly mesmerizing. Time stopped. The world seemed to recede far
away. Life seemed peaceful.
Lost in my thoughts I was recalled back by
Pallavi who pointed out that the sun was about to set. Mrs. Molly asked the
boatman to steer shore-wards. We all watched in awe the dimming sun. I
remembered how eagerly and with what a throbbing heart I had watched the sunrise
in the morning. The much waited day was now going to be another page in the
diary of my memory. But yes, I felt hopeful for the future. For I knew that the
sun would rise again tomorrow.
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