Down the nostalgia road


It was the last working day of our school lives. Panic was running high among students for it was the final boards physics practical. Running helter skelter to touch up those last changes in the journals, we were all geared up and ready to finish the practical quickly and then sit and reminisce the 10 years of schooling we went through in those few years.

The bell rang and we arranged ourselves in our cosy little classroom, everyone sitting in their groups, waiting for the teacher to arrive. The January chill casually reminding us of al the Christmas parties that we celebrated each year before the winter holidays began. Everyone was going through the journals, trying to cram the last few words they could into those tiny little brains and then the teacher walks in, snapping everyone into the present.

Slowly the practicals got over, and there we were, like a free bird, ready to walk down the nostalgia road, soaking up all the little things about this wonderful place and making sure that we would never let this damn place get out of our hearts.

Everybody has their own special place in the school, their own “adda”, which provides their group a place to have fun, have those endless conversations about nothing, and so we visited our adda. Just sitting there and realizing that this would actually be the last time we would collectively as a group hang out made the moment more real than it could possibly be. The wind calmly blowing through the place and all of us just silently sitting their, moving back in time, remembering every single one of those little stories that made us all laugh out loud or made us cry. At that moment, even the most boring conversations were valuable for no one would come back here again. Marking the place our own, we moved to the other places in side the school, coming up with stories that made the place stand out, erupting in laughter at the time when the pants of one of my friend ripped out open in the field or the times when our “BADASS” mode was turned on and we brought our cellphones into the schools. Slowly, we moved around the whole place, spending a little time here, a bit more time there. It was a beautiful mess, our school, and we couldn’t be happier yet sad of the fact that we were living this place to be adults, at that moments, none of us wanted to leave and everyone wished that they could be there for a bit longer.

Whenever someone talks to me about the most memorable day of the school or the day that gives me strength and the motivation as well as optimism to look up to a better tomorrow, it will be my last working day at school.

I did attach some of my pictures from that day here: 404912_2970001401418_534736919_n

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Just like the way housing.com has revamped itself to look up to a better tomorrow, even I look upto a better tomorrow by taking a trip down the nostalgia road.

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