Excerpts from bygone times.......I remember....and love to.....1.1

3 Days in the new school. And I was appointed the class monitor. Again this time, for a weird unimportant reason. I was sitting in the front most row ; closest to him. Identified simple target, therefore killed. Not like my old previous school where I used to be class monitor just because I was tallest in class. In higher classes later, nobody else was interested. (They were partying, having “tafri” around, and busy in mainstream bird-watching).Well, I am not complaining. But maybe it was just like you can guess the future.

“I always knew I will be given responsibilities again and again, doesn’t matter how boring it might be, doesn’t matter if I will be interested even or not, they just will be pinned on me. And I will always try to match their expectations. The expectations will keep going high, no matter how I perform. I will go on working selflessly, like a donkey after the carrot attached to his own hood, right in front of him.” I knew I will be a good employee someday. Because that’s what a good employee is; I have finally learnt.

Let’s go ahead with the life after joining my new ‘Upgraded’, ’Reputed’ school. I had hopes here. Hope to do better. Hope to learn better. Hope to make better contacts. Better communication skills. To my perception, anything simple in a big school is a “major thing” in a small school. And I was a small school lad. Uneducated to customs. Unexposed to style.

I had NO HOPE I was going to have a school time crush there. And that part of my life then started getting interesting.

It still is, and now I have one reason to cherish. I remember the day second-by-second.
It was the day I saw her. And things changed. Back to story. So what is a class monitor in class 11th supposed to do? Nobody takes him seriously. Not even his class teacher. Not even his friends. Not even him.

Let me tell you. A class monitor is supposed to get black board writing chalks from Staff Room when the box goes empty. He is supposed to call a teacher when there is a free class. He is expected to get classes free for “sports” period. He is expected to open the classroom locker and close it after classes, so he is expected to reach school first and leave last. In a nutshell, EXPECTIONS.

So I was the new class monitor of my new class XI ‘E’ and as am supposed to; I knew nobody. I just knew my first cousin in another section ’F’ who was remotely aware of my existence. So I had a list of things to do. I had to make new friends. I had to find new Tuition teachers. I had to learn how to justify that “maths-ED” is better than “maths-comps” combo. I had to learn how to convince my ex classmates on phone, that how DPS Ranchi was way better than any other school in Ranchi. Or maybe planet Earth. I had to learn that there is something actually called style. I must modernize. And it actually matters. Ya, one more thing. I must learn to talk to the opposite sex. Most important task. If possible, even befriend one or two. Come on, that’s what a DPS dude is supposed to do. That’s his KRA. He can talk smoothly to any chick he pleases to. After all, he is a DPS dude!!(that’s a strong perception from a small school guy, please ignore that.) I had to learn how to evolve into a extrovert, from a small school Introvert. In a nutshell, MY EXPECTATIONS.

Back to story again. Morning 7:35. 25 minutes after classes commence. Class teacher, Mr. Sunil Ghosh, the Bong, has just entered the class, and by his outlandish looks, you can make out he hasn’t brought chalks. So he presses a switch imperceptibly, and a zombie rises from his desk, and rushes towards the staff room, emotionlessly. Actually, he was thinking about the bare number of less-than-average (that’s putting it mildly, read UGLY) looking girls in the class. Not even a single matchstick worth a strike. He was planning how he would be spending the rest of two years in high school with these bookworm-looking creeps, hanging around everywhere habitable in campus.
In class XI, you can broadly divide boys into three groups.

Group 1 are boys who are internal students, hopped into just a new class after 10th.They know the school better. They are smart ass, they have contacts, and they are a constipated clot in belly. (read RESERVED GROUP, entry by invitation only).Forget about befriending them. They hate you. You are an outsider. More like a wall lizard or a spider. Unimportant but potentially dangerous.

Group 2 are boys who have topped their respected institutions and with honour, took admission here. Maths science cut-off marks more than 92 percent. Their dream in life is to top again in class XII. They are born to give mid semester and final exams. And more. And more. So they start studying a month before classes have started. Day 1 in school they identify similar humans, and after half an hour they are busy discussing organic chemistry and trigonometry. “No other issue in life is more important than hydrocarbons” – is their mantra in life.
Now, you scored sharp 92 in Maths Science. Just managed to grab a seat and sit with them in class. You are a small school guy. And you didn’t even top there. How can they befriend you? They hate you because you too are here; sitting with them. With all due respect Piyush, You are just an AVERAGEr , so keep yourself away. You are more like a sucker. And that’s potentially dangerous again. So keep yourself, away from us, Monitor.

Group 3 boys are actually humans. Commoners. Genuine homo sapien. They think like me. Their wish-list matches mine. They are rare to find. But, yes; I am sure, they exist. I just needed some time to find them out.

For girls, similar rules or whatever applies. I will broadly classify them into HOT (without intelligence) or UGLY(only intelligence).My class had the latter group. All of them.

So, back to story again.

I left out from class to the staff room. Took my own time, drank water, washed face. Filled all the pockets with chalks.(Now, chalks have two utilities. One, you write with them. Two, you break them into small pieces to target and flick on moving Humans or non moving things. So, basically, they are fun.)Then, the zombie dude walked back to return to class.

And it just happened. A ‘cute’ thing was rushing towards my classroom. It was 7:40 and she was obviously late.

I will pen down how was the scenario. Just to relive the moment. I remember the soft long hair. It wasn’t flowing. Rather, it was swinging. It was waist long,, well woven tail. A slim 5’2’’ fair female. No spects. Her mother must have worked hard on her hair-do. I don’t know what you people call it outside India (or even in India) but I believe there is no English equivalent to the word “Goothi hui single choti”. See, it resembles like a 3-ply jute rope woven in West Bengal. Or a cane stick carving made in Assam. Like a 3-pin table lamp wiring in household electric circuit?......what? wait, it is supposed to be romantically defined, if not, at least well explained. I suck in those areas. So what I will do, I will carry on with the story and you try imagining that in your spare time.whatever, it really suited her cute face.

She looked different. Not in some inhuman aspect. Just , it was to me that she looked ‘godly’. Remember “Main Hoon Naa” scenes when the teacher entered the corridor and Shahrukh on the knees, kneeled down by the professor. Now in the scene, just replace cast. Put some day light instead of artificial glow lights. A normal summer 7’o clock sun light will do. It brightens the fair face. Gives contrast to dark black hair. It adds colour to the skin tone. I will say a similar natural colour will be “mix 1 pinch of turmeric in 200 ml milk.add a dipped brush in red and mix.”You can simulate that skin tone.

So, now miss Sushmita walks towards Shahrukh. Shahrukh stares. Shahrukh Smiles. Shahrukh blushes. Then Shahrukh drops a chalk. He bends down to pick it up, loses balance, hits a wall. Shahrukh realizes he is not shahrukh, and Piyush Raj massages his forehead.
Sushmita, unaware of this mishap, say unaware of shahrukh’s existence, mumbles “May I come in Sir?”

Sunil Ghosh is deaf. Sushmita mumbles again. Unregistered.

Now Shahrukh is back to business. He takes one full scale visual diagnosis of Sushmita from the doorsteps. Bastard. Then with his newly boy-turned-man voice, in its best impressive manner, he says “May we come in Sir?”

Sunil ghost is not only deaf. He is a bastard too. He ignores the ‘couple’. Asshole.

Well, enough of drama. I walk in. If he asks who allowed you in, I will say he did. Then I will prove he suffers from memory disorder and he must sleep 8 hours a day. I reach my seat and look back to Sushmita Sen. She is still stuck there. Come on, she looks nice. Let her be there only.

I kept gazing at her. I will admit here, I do that to every good looking girl if conditions permit. And I love doing that. But wait, there was something missing here with this chick. She wasn’t falling in my pre-defined 2 basic categories (i.e. HOT dumb and Intellectual UGLY).She wasn’t a bombshell. Skirt was well below knee level (That’s not the best way to rate girls. But due to lack of proper guidelines, we follow old conventions).She looked decent and homely. She had small eyes. So she was apparently clever. She wore a smile on her face. And she didn’t need to smile to show that. She just looked happy. Satisfied. There was some serious charismatic stuff there. I warned myself. Piyush Raj, keep away. You mind end up liking this girl. I was getting an internal signal that this chick was actually matching all the specs I had decided that should be in my chick. And she had a bonus mole on her chin. Well that’s not a valid reason to support my argument, but man, it was first time I was seeing her. There was more to come. Let’s say it once, that “Pehli Nazar” thing is kind of, true. I respect the poet who said that.

3rd Time. “May I come in sir?” and she walked in saying that. My idea was probably copied. Impressive.

She came in. And then she stayed in. She still is here. Hasn’t left yet.

To be continued......................so stay tuned.:)