![]() ![]() Not a single child looked happy in that gathering. The students had to stand still looking around, yawning, or exchanging glances was not allowed. These may seem, to some, genuine expectations in a disciplined environment, but the fear of consequences was nauseating. Nails had to be cut, earrings were not allowed, and a hairband was compulsory even if it didn’t serve a purpose for my short hair. If one did not button up to the chin or the tie was a bit loose, there would be severe reprimanding, including shaming. The school dress was very uncomfortable: a white shirt, a tie, and a skirt heavy as iron. So, I stuck to feeling inefficient, lazy, and guilty in the mornings. But I was unaware we didn’t go for frequent medical check-ups back in the 1990s. I recently realized that I might have been dealing with hypothyroidism (diagnosed years later), which made my mornings extremely difficult. The school started at 7 in the morning I used to be lost at that time. Apparently, this was the number one rule of disciplining children and “being serious.” I was not allowed to leave the premises under any circumstances, even at my parents’ request. Once inside, I could not see anything in the outside world. My school had very high, red-brick walls. But research says 20% of the population is hypersensitive - almost 1.5 billion people. My weirdest memory is about praying at night so that I would not face humiliation or an unpleasant situation at school. ![]() I remember my friends fondly - the silver (in fact golden) lining of the cloud, but I don’t want to go back to those times. When people reminisce about their childhood at parties, singing, “ woh kagaz ki kashti woh barish ka pani,” I don’t have even an iota of nostalgia. I was the topper of my class when it came to scoring marks. Until a few years ago, I never realized that my school could have been a different place I was conditioned to believe that there is only one kind of school, which is the best kind. I have distinct memories of my childhood, most of which make me the person I am! I was born into an extremely loving and caring middle-class Punjabi family.īut this story is about my school. My father told me a few years ago: “As you will grow older, you will remember your childhood vividly.” In my early 30s, it is already happening to me. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |