The Class

“As I already told you,…” started Mr. Bhatnagar, our physics teacher. A perfectly fine opening line for a class, except it generated a spectrum of responses among the students (confusion underlying almost all) when he said that the first thing on the first day of the year.

The frontbenchers were agitated – “what did he say that I missed?!! Maybe it’ll appear on the test, maybe I’ll flunk, my parents are gonna kick me out on the roads. Ah the shame!! I’ll end up being a paan-waala, can already hear it ‘haan bhai, do katthai malai maar ke dena khatakhat’”.

The balcony seat occupants (these are the seats next to the window and are occupied by the ‘kewl’ guys who have the grit to use them as an exit in order to express their resentment against the ‘never to be used in life’ stuff taught in classrooms) are seen scratching their heads – “man, this +2 stuff goes right over the head. Couldn’t register a word of what he said. I should consider quitting and opening a paan ka dukaan, will also have an awesome website!! Wonder if chicks dig such shopkeepers :-?”

With all my buddies, I at the back of the class (yeah, have always been a backbencher) was oblivious to the proceedings of the class. Truly speaking I was more engrossed with the new tactics of cheating in exams that were being discussed by Audi, Tony and Prerana, ‘the stuff that is of use in life’.

Math followed physics, and thanks to Mrs. Trivedi the frontbenchers felt respite and the paan-waala idea were reinforced amongst my cool pals in the prestigious balcony seats. Mrs. Trivedi had her way of keeping the entire class involved and made people come up (in the order of seating) to the board and work out problems. Babita was busy using heads and counting to see when it would be her turn so that she could fall sick and take the day off, while Noman planned an undercover relocation operation to join those who were already past the pearly gates. Parijat was giving a crash course to the lucky few around him, and the falcon-eyed Uba was scanning the girl’s notebooks for solutions. When the ball rang, the latter rings were drowned by the sound of our collective exhalation.

Break!! Time to have fun, socialize and for some devoted ones, play handball! For the uninitiated handball is similar to squash with just the front wall, a tennis ball and the hand for a raquet. Any further attempt to describe the game would make the game as clear as quidditch is to a normal Potter reader.

Aakash, now unshackled, ran in the hallways like a bull on steroids – goring juniors, skidding all around, breaking switchboards, bulbs, holders…singing “tan ki shakti, mann ki shakti, Bournvita!” Now, if only the building maintenance would've made the connection, they’d have saved thousands of rupees by advising his folks to go easy on the dosage!

Pak-pak-pakya would head for the fields and be ready to challenge anything that moved to a race and prove his mettle…since the fateful day when he let us down in a 4x100 relay where he did a slo-mo run to showcase his moves for the benefit of the camera-less audience.

Joshi, (the tormented) would have the gang pouncing upon all his possessions with S.W.A.T like efficiency the moment he left the site. Every worldly possession the chap dared to bring to school would vanish in all directions – his lunch box in Jennis’s bag, the water bottle with Ankush and the bag itself on a bungee cord outside the window – simply genius!!

And what did the gang do when they didn’t feel like listening to the teacher blabber? OK, here goes:

Plan A: Cut class and disappear by intermingling with the so many already on the fields. The gang is a famous pack, neither their presence on the field nor absence in the class would go unnoticed… hmm, not gonna fly!

Plan B: Take permission for some official work and go do all this work in the footer field, or the basketball courts. But the basketball court is frequented by Father Jose, who could actually be head of security, Tihar Jail. Man, he had the eyes of a thousand hawks, would pick even a fly out of its place!! No, not gonna take that route.

Plan C: Idea! Unite the entire class under the spirit of freedom and instead of a political procession, moan and howl as if the very spirit of life would abandon them if they were fed with any more knowledge for the day and ask for an off. An intelligent choice of which teacher to try this with would almost guarantee success. Hehehe, brilliant! Cruel grins on the devils. Nobody could subject them to anymore classroom torture, NOBODY!!!

And hence the day would end on the fields with everyone engaging in whatever they wanted to, ranging form sports like football, basky, volley to spending time in the library looking at books with pictures (National Geographic most of the time) to sitting in front of the comp in the compy room doing nothing but chit-chatting with the ones accompanying you and for some even walking all around the school. A whole spectrum of ways to kill the time they had bought after much deliberation from the teacher.

And the final meeting ground for the entire class would be the cycle stand where all would gather to be the first who break free and reach home to be back for another just as entertaining day at St. Xaviers.

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Disclaimer: The information above has been modified to suit the mood and might vary from the facts at a number of occasions. Kindly bear with me :)