Finally, we reach school and my seatmate namely Mohsin said, “I should take anti headache tablets with me from tomorrow. Your nonsense noise someday is going to blast my ears.”
“This
is your regular sayings Mohsin.” And I stepped out of the bus and walked to my
classroom singing a beautiful Kashmiri song ‘Cholhema rooshay’.
In the classroom, I probably would be the first to enter if I catch my bus on time. I
would make the classroom too as any rock star’s concert stage. Maai chaanay would be the song I maximum
use to sing.
“Kuttay (You hound)… have you planned to
kill us,” said Areeba to me.
“Oh!
I know people die on my voice.” I replied sarcastically and she prefers to
be quiet with her strange gaze.
Areeba
was like the combo of a very thin girl and a little healthy one. She was very
beautiful and cute, even today also. She was not only my bus mate and
classmates; she was someone, in front of whom I would be whatever I wanted to
be. But I wasn’t aware that our bond will someday be stronger than it was.
Reaching the classroom was enjoyable, but not when you start reading and
pretend to be a corpus. The thing I hated the most at that time was studies,
except physics, chemistry, and Biology, because they would always amaze me by
the strange names. Also, maintaining a notebook till class sixth is to create a
sense of responsibility in students, but why after that? Whenever there was
notebook checking in our class, I would have an elephant-sized note on my
diary. The note would address my parents to be at school the next day and to have a
meeting with our principal. But I would hide that from my parents and the next day, the school was as it was yesterday. There were also some teachers, who would call
my parents for my interest in notebooks or memorizing systems. I believe
that memorizing is indirectly proportional to understanding. The more you memorize, the less will you understand. But it depends on one’s perspective of how he takes
it. Though teachers beat me in school and my father at my home, still I had no
effect on maintaining any notebook.
The
days passed and I was still that dull guy. The summer had gone, winters ahead. A couple of exams had been held too and then the final exam which is the giants in
the way of an ant was also held. Despite my carelessness, I well qualified them
with 82%. But my parents were still unhappy about that. They would always expect
100% from me. From a guy who never knows the address of his bag.
After
some days teachers announced the winter vocations and all the students
hop with joy. Everyone was happy and taking phone numbers of each other. We
then rarely call each other, but taking phone numbers was like a trend to make
friends feel that you care about them.
Read chapter 3 Here
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