The Ex-SSGians' Reunion: Delhi Chapter underwent with superb success last Saturday (28th November 2009) at the Dhruv Army Officers' Mess, Delhi. The evening started with mild excitement as Ex-SSGians reached the venue and got themselves registered at the 'help desk' and pinned their name & number badge. Each badge had the strip of the owner's house colour. The evening progressed and the huge lawn was soon crowded with Ex-SSGians, each greeting each other, lifting and re-reading the other's badge. An inter-house Tug of War culminated with the victory of Lohit House followed by the 'house-songs' and wild 'war cries'.
Whatever little inhibition was left by then, was completely wiped out as the bar opened on one end of the lawn. Exchange of email ids, phone numbers, prmoises to keep in touch followed. Someone even got cooked pork, which we relished at the car parking (Apologies to the ex-ssgian whose car bonnet we had used as the table).
School songs, school videos, mime, Bihu and the 'Mimickry' of teachers followed. It bugs me no end that H.K. Jha stills remains in vogue, as far as the subject of mimickry goes. Without stretching it further, I would like to thank all who worked hard to make this event a superb success and not to mention the memento of a key chain with the school name engraved on it and a catalogue of all Ex-SSGians in the NCR region. Can't wait for the next reunion.
"Sarv Mein Saddham"
The SSGians' Reunion: Delhi Chapter
Ex SSGian's meet, Delhi 2009
A copy of the latest update by Indranil Roy (without the attachments)
Greetings Everyone!
- For SSGians: Whatever you'd want to contribute, the minimum being Rs 500/-. The good news is - there is no upper limit, so you can dig deep into your pockets and contribute generously for the worthy event.
- For spouses/fiancée/girlfriends/
boyfriends/in-laws : Rs 300/-* (SUBSIDIZED FEE!! ON SALE!! - Don't they just love the word!) * for 1 (one) person - Children below 10 yrs of age: Rs 0/- (Yeah... Absolutely free, no asterix, no fine print, no number limit!)
- Any additional guest (including children above 10 yrs): Rs 250/- for (no limits on number of guests, the more the merrier and the more economically viable for you)
Ex SSGians' Meet 2009
walkman
Indeed a revolutionary invention of all time. No ssgian can deny having an affair with a walkman. What makes it an affair is the scarcity and a banned item in the campus. It was like a forbidden luxury which everyone wanted to have. If caught by teachers it goes to the registrar's store room from where things never return or if you are luckier enough to be caught by Mr Verma, that's the last minute of your walkman. He will not wait untill every inches of it is broken. It is an absolute horror to witness a newly bought walkman costing a thousand k being hurled like a baseball for which you have been saving from ur pocket money . And for a junior, he has to conceal it from seniors too. If gone in the hands of seniors its worse. You can count on getting meets from seniors and your walkman gone for good. Listening to music was special when u had so much risk involved. Borrowing new tapes from friends. Oh yes! I remember escaping to goalpara just to make mixed tapes of our favourite songs. 'Wingo' was the brand of that time cheap, disposable and with speakers while brave ones preferred the likes of aiwa and sony. I wonder what happened to my walkman which felled prey to my housemaster.
School Prayer
O’ God our father,
Behold us assembled here
To thank thee for the place we dwell in,
For the love that unites us,
For the peace accorded us this day
And for the hope with which
We expect the morrow.
As the clay to the potter,
And the windmill to the wind,
We beseech of thee,
O’ Lord, for this help and mercy.
school song Axom Axom
OXOM OXOM O AAI OXOM MAATRI MUR SENEHI DEX XEUJI DHORINI RUPERE XUWONI XOISO SAMALAR OXOMIR BEX BIJOYOR DHAJJYA AAKAXOT URAI UDAYGIRIYE PUHOR BILABO LACHIT CHILAR BIR DEKA DOLE HENGDANG TULI RON JINIBO PRAGJYOTIXOR LUITOR PANIYE NILACHOL DEVIR POKHALE CHARAN MATRIR PODAT PODJOL DHALI GLANIR PAP KORILE MUSON ANENU XUWALA OXOMIR VAXA XUNILE PELUWA PARAN XAT JEEBONE MORONE TOJU CHORONE NIZORA OXOMIR XUWODHI MAT OXOM OXOM O AAI OXOM MAATRI MUR SENEHI DEX XEUJI DHORINI RUPERE XUWONI XOISO SAMALAR OXOMIR BEX
Abide with me
Now we shall sing "abide with me " ...1......2 the school captain commands and evreyone starts singing.The fun part is even the school captain generally doesn't know the wordings/lyrics properly. So mostly they say "axom axom" .Actually everyone tries to follow the choir party as 90% of us just mumble with the assembly .I was there in the choir party when i was in class VI "hehe".i was so excited as we had a separate space to stand.Anyways am sure most of the ssgians dont know the Hymn properly.so i hope this should help.
School Savdhan.
now we shall sing abide with me
1..............2
Abide with me; fast fails the even tide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide;
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee.
Help of the helpless, O abides with me
Swift to its close ebbs out of life's little day,
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away,
Change and decay in all around I see.
O Thou who changes not, abide with me.
Come not in terrors, as the king of kings;
But kind and good with healing in thy wings;
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea;
Come, friend of sinners, thus abide with me.
I need thy presences every passing hour;
What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who like thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Oh, abide with me.
I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death's sting? Where grave the victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.
Be thou thyself before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies,
Heavens' morning breaks and earth's vain shadow flee
In life, in death, 0' Lord abide with me.
sainik school goalpara
Goalpara
P.O. Rajapara(Assam)
Pin.783133
Aim : The aim of Sainik Schools is to prepare boys:-
(i) accademically,physically and mentally for entry into National
Defance Academy.(ii) To remove regional imbalance in officer
cadre of Defence services.(iii) To Develop qualities of body,mind and
character.(iv) To bring public school education within the reach of
common men.
Command and Control : The Sainik schools are run by society,which is controlled by a Board
of Governors.
Date of Establishment : 12th November 1964
Location : 18 Kms away from Goalpara Town.
Nearest Railway Station : Goalpara,which is 23 Kms away from the School.
Telephone Nos : Office Residence
Principal- 287076 287075
Headmaster-287118 287117
Registrar- 287119 287105
S.T.D- 03663
Fax No.- 03663-287119
Staff Strength : (a) Medical Officer -01
(b) Teacher -27
(c) Administrative Staff -18
(d) Miscellaneous
Academic staff - 04
Strength of Students : 666 Boys
Admission : Only boys are admitted in class VI and IX between the age group 10-11
years for class VI and 13-14 years for class IX as on 2nd July of the
year of admission through all India Entrance Examination normally held
in 3rd week of January followed by Interview and medical examination held
in April/ May every year.Prospectus and application forms may be
obtained from the school on payment of Rs 300/-(Rs 200/- for SC/ST
candidates)by bank draft or postal order in favour of the Principal,
Sainik School Goalpara,payable at State Bank of India,Mornoi
(Code-9148)/Goalpara Post Office respectively.Boys finally selected are
called for admission in June every Year and is a fully residential school.
Fees Structure : Approximately Rs 29,000/-per boy per annum, excluding diet charges.
Scholarships : Liberal Scholarships are sanctioned by the state and central Governments.
Games & Sports : Facilities for all kinds of Games & sports extracurricular & co-curricular
activities are available in the school.
N.C.C. : N.C.C. is compulsory for all cadets studying in this School.
K.G.School : A K.G. School exists,in the School campus,from Lower K.G. to class
V. The medium of instruction of this School is English.
Bing finds us first..!!
the next gen search engine "BING" also displays us on the top for "sainik school goalpara" search result. Cheers..!! keep the good work goin...!!
Racism & Ragging (Vis-a-vis attacks in Australia)
DISCLAIMER: Like most of my posts, this is being written from the top of my head. Readers understanding sought.
“tell me how many balls can you see,” the senior said pointing a Hingis poster on the wall. She swung her racket and the tennis ball appeared three times in the poster.
“one,” I responded.
“Trying to be smart,” he said motioning me to move aside.
The next came and he replied, “three.”
“its five, isn’t it?” the senior asked, “look carefully.”
“Anyway we welcome you all to this hostel. Stay well, be on time and be proud of your hostel (read house) at all times.” The senior said shaking hands.
Another day
“where did you go today?” a hairy senior asked, caressing his sculpted belly. Obvious indication that he hadn’t escaped hardships of an SSGian’s life.
“PWD da”
“who did you ask?”
“No one da”
“You got wings already?” the senior said sending his arms flying to the junior’s cheek.
The junior ran away the following night with a broken ear drum.
====================================================
Last evening I was talking to a friend of mine, as we waited at the crowded BRT signal in Delhi. It started as a passing comment on the racist attacks on Indian students in Australia. I added my inputs from an article that said how Delhi was equally racist in treating students (as well as employed men) from the Northeast in no known ways of moderateness and understanding. My friend said, Delhi does it because no one has a sense of belongingness to this city. Buy or grab land, build house, get a car and there you go…just rent them. And this city is more yours than those who come seeking for your house on rent!
Respect for others come from your sense of belongingness (community) she said. I curled my eyebrows in slight disagreement and she quickly added,
“when you are in a community, there is an elder guiding you.”
The traffic signals in BRT Delhi is notoriously slow during peak hours and I turned off the ignition of my car. She continued, “racism is much like ragging, you never know where to stop it. And when the fun turns into racism and violence.”
I muttered something and the light ahead turned green. Ragging in Sainik School Goalpara is a debatable issue. Its undoubtedly wrong many a times. But I am afraid if I am going to criticize it until I can come up with an useful alternate. An alternate that can uphold the very spirit of being an SSGian. I take a further step and feel compelled to divulge that ‘ragging’ in sainik school Goalpara is different from the ragging that we read in newspapers. Many will agree, many will not. I wasn’t sure if I could make sense trying to put them into words, and explain it to her. Like most other experiences of being an SSGian.
Welcome Speech..!!!
This is my first post to this blog. At the very onset, I extend my regards to all the seniors, fellow batch mates, juniors and readers. :)
Well did I make it sound like the typical welcome speech given before any event in our school. :)
I think the welcome speech was the only thing that was constant (read never-changed) during my (our) stay at SSG. There was a single script which has been repeated by almost everyone standing at the podium welcoming the audience for any occasion, be it debate, recitation, elocution.. etc etc. The only changes were in the names of Principal, Headmaster, Registrar and sometimes the senior master too..!!
I still remember the phrase from that never-changed speech…
“….I would be failing in my duty if I don’t welcome the students without whom it would be like staging the Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark…”
Well apart from welcome speech there were two other things which never changed in any of the competitions.
Yes, one is the person in the role of the time keeper..!!! Some of us might have guessed it by now.. Its none other than NA..! :)
And the other person…
All of us remember the catch phrase we used to scream in harmony :) when there was a power cut…
“OOOOOIIIIIII SARKARRRRRRRR…”
We actually waited for the power cut for this. :)
Yes, I am taking about Sarkar Da, I think almost all the batches have seen him there for all the competitions and events, morning assemblies during their stay at school…!
I would wind up for now, and it feels like school again..!!!
Deep
Sainik School Goalpara on Google
My First advendutre (1st polai juwa experience)
A bunch of us decided to go to "Surya pahar mela" (for those who don't know about it....surya pahar mela is organised every year near surya pahar). Surya pahar mela was like a unofficial roadies task for us. The rules were simple....visit the mela atleast once.
For seniors - don't get caught by school authority...
and for poor juniors like us - dont get busted by seniors and ofcourse authority.
So few of us decided to go for the mission. Since it was a mission in another territory we did all the risk management and mission briefing. We ensured that noone else knew about it. We all went with our normal daily activities that day. Studied in the prep time,went for dinner came back, participated in post dinner gossips (adda), then came the lights off whistle!
we all went to our bed and then after somtime i hear someone, "shhhh...its time...!!!". I got into a dark dress and went behind room no 1. (yes near the fence). One by one all ninjas arrived...all fully dressed in black. Some in track suits, some injacket...even with that "bandor topi" (Monkey caps). The dress was supposed to help us make invisible in the dark night. Somone asked how are we goin to move in the dark dat too through the obstacle ground and those bushes...??chandan saikia took out a small torch with weak battery - so that it didnt glow much. Since we were trained in camouflage and concealment, we did all we knew to be invisible.
2300 hrs - we started our mission by taking a vow - if somone gets caught noone will tell anyone's name. Suddenly I felt somone coming and I could feel the adreline rush in me. But it turned out to be just a shadow...someone was peeing in front of the room no 1 corridor.
"uff close call!"
Anyways we moved on. The tricky part was crossing the obstacle ground as it was open and anyone from senior house could see us. We croosed it and finally reached the main road. Now we decided not to move through the main road as someone might notice us and mistake us as thieves. So we moved along the trees and bushes parallel to the road. The road was never ending and surya pahar was not coming. After 1 hr or so we finally reached the mela. We all hurrayed and went to all the possible shops and ate like we were hungry from ages.(althoug only few shops wer open, at that time of the night). We watched half of a movie, which was screend there. It was fun watching in that cold open air. We returnd late....so it was easy to get inside. We were very happy and excited as we pioneerd it..
we all went for an hour's sleep as it was PT time again. Next day we told some guys about it and we became like the coolest guys and evryone wanted to go now. We asked them not to go now as it might be dangerous as we heard few seniors were caught the day we went. Next day few of our friends went and became martyrs as there was a headcount that night.
anyways that was my 1st adventure in ssg...(1st polai juwa )and yea i m sayin as my 1st adventure cos our dear H K Jha used to find all these 'adventure'...hehehe!! after that i was caught once for bunking school....wil tell u about it later...!! till den chao...!!!
Liked this story? There is another story on Surya Pahar in our archive. Click here to read.
Sainik School Goalpara: schooldays pics
check out some pics of schooldays !!!
these pics were uploaded by Debasish Hazarika from 1997-2004 batch...hope u all like it...!!
Sainik School Goalpara: Images by Debasish
It has been Eight years............
It has been eight years now, but feels like just yesterday. I remember how after completing our last board (it was biology) exam we went to Principal’s residence for special Lunch organized for us the out going batch. After the lunch we went to PWD where our own beloved hemo da had organized another special lunch, as during our stay we had helped him grow his business.
By the time we reached our respective houses everyone of us were in a different state of mind, depressed, sad, nostalgic and what not…some were accompanied by their bhaities, few were busy packing and as for me I was just thinking how fast life moves as we completed 7 years of our stay and it was like a blink and miss…After packing we were ready for our regimental dinner – the first in our honour and the last in school time.
After dinner it was traditional visit to all the houses wishing the juniors all the best for their future….After returning to the respective houses we had our own party organized filled with beer and chicken from Hema…That was one such party filled with lots of emotions, every body was sentimental and almost cried discussing all the good and bad moments during our stay. Few were sorry for if they had misbehaved and not into talking terms with some; few were planning to stay together at Guwahati for coaching.
I personally had a fear of loosing good friends, afraid of facing the cruel world alone without friends. After that we went to reading room where juniors were also very sad as we were leaving. It was about 4 am in the morning and after much discussion and advice which we never followed but passed on to our juniors we went back to our rooms only to get ready to leave our school. It was Ist April 2001 and that date many of us will never forget ……..I hoped if it had been a April’s fool prank on us , which never was …….As the school bus was made ready for us we were taking out our trunks and bags outside our houses. For the last time we all were standing in front of our house in fallin and Alok Singh starting with “OMNI VINCENT OMAR” (Our House Motto) and that broke us all, we all started crying like kids. After loading our bag and baggages we walked towards the bus which was parked in the road in front of the auditorium. I remember whole school standing on both sides of the road including our teachers. We went and touched our teacher’s feet and we could see few among them crying for us as we cried too. After that we greeted the students standing by the sides of the road; few class VI students were also crying looking at us. It was a situation like a girl’s farewell ceremony. In a girls home where the whole family cries including the girl……Now after many years I realize the feeling, the love , the affection, the bonding we shared with each other, with our juniors and our teachers and of course our school as a whole.
One ran to the football ground and kissed the goal post, one last time and some were too far away from their loved spots in the campus. Today I am thousands of kilometers away from it removed by a time warp of 8 long years and still writing about it.
10 Classic ways of earning a TC
Should I type a TC for you? (Transfer certificate), growled the balding principle donning his green uniform.
I looked down, and the threat subsided and he agreed to offer me a week’s extra drill instead of handing me a TC.
There are very few, who won’t have heard it at least once during their life in Sainik School Goalpara (during my tenure between 1994-2001 as a student). The studious gets it and so do the ruffians, the gentle as well as the unruly ones. I survived many such threats during my seven years stay and always managed to come out safe writing a letter of apology or getting an extra drill at the most or at times getting a pat on my back, for being nice overall.
Here are 10 classic ways of getting to see a TC in Sainik School Goalpara:
- Go to the out of bound PWD canteen during the prep time hours and wish the nomadic principle, ‘good evening’ on your way back from PWD.
- Use the short cut through the athletic ground during the PT run, when the principal is performing push ups, in the middle of the athletic ground.
- Run away to Goalpara without permission, and share a seat with a teacher in the bus.
- Enter the House through a secret passage (like a broken window) after a late night expedition and find the principal lending you a helping hand, in entering through it.
- Hit a junior and don’t bother to threaten him with dire consequences, if he takes up the matter with authorities.
- Steal cattle that roam in the campus, eat it and forget to conceal the left over.
- Be a topper for a year and then flunk in the exams.
- Earn an EPD (exempted from PT & Drill) from the doctor, after pretending to be sick & then get spotted by the principal playing cricket in the quadrangle.
- Explode a cracker 3 months before Diwali or splash colour days ahead of Holi or both.
- Find a junior coming towards you as you are speaking to the principal. You find the junior very familiar, but can only recall once he comes and says, ‘Da you gave me a meet’.
House Day: Dancing Goes Wrong
Disclaimer: Names have been changed to protect identities. And if the people involved in the story gets a mild to severe heart attack in seeing their little secret being revealed, they can pick their options of abusing me over SMS, phone, email or even in person.
The Basics: We were in IXth standard. We formed the ‘labour force’ in all the senior houses. There are many more basic facts about being a IXth standard cadet in Sainik School Goalpara and I’ll not be dealing with them in the current story. The other fact that I would want to talk about is about cultural activities presented by senior Houses. Such performances would be a mix bag of croaking seniors, who would croak and juniors would praise and then some juniors who were actual artists and then some more juniors who were forced to dance or sing, to act as fillers during the show. I know one such story…
Mr. NF was in IXth standard and he happened to join Sainik School Goalpara in IXth unlike most of us who joined in VIth. After initial ‘sweet to all’ attitude he quickly found himself a slot in the ‘gang of Lohit House’ that mostly comprised of ‘old nine guys’ (they are the hardcore ones, who reach senior houses in their VIIIth standard unlike the average ones who reach senior Houses in IXth). So this group would do things differently…well almost everything.
They would go to Goalpara, when the rest of us would work for the seniors and they would relax in the room as we run around to answer the dreaded shouts ‘Reading room’ ‘Common Room’….Yes Da. They would wake up when we would sleep at night. (Do read Rajib’s story in this context). So this is the group where Mr. NF found himself a berth. Although he wasn’t exempted from his basic duties of being a IXth student, like serving the seniors, he did enjoy the superstar status of being a ‘gangster’.
The date for the House day was slowly approaching and the preparation gained momentum, as I managed the list of programs (being the junior prefect). Like most other cultural events in Sainik School Goalpara, the list I managed had an endless list of ‘singers’ that can kill audience with boredom. So I was given the task of finding some potential dancers. I do not remember now, if Mr. Dutta (an old ninth gangster & my classmate) agreed to dance out of will or because some senior threatened him to do one. But he did agree to dance and his partner was to be Mr. NF. His new uniforms had gathered those stains by now that we had seen from our VIth standard and he was well versed with the said and unsaid rules of Sainik School Goalpara by now.
Common room (room number 6) was their place of practice for the next few days culminating with the final performance. They would practice at night, and collect stuff during the day. By stuff I mean, shoes from some, torn jeans from others, bandana from some etc. Oh the song! It was O o jaane jana, dhunde tujhe deewana. A good song, given our limited taste and seclusion from the rest of the human civilization.
The D day arrived and being the junior prefect, I cleverly placed the dance between equal number of songs, before and after the dance to bring about a sense of variety. And the dance was to be the ‘item’ of the day, that would provide visual treat as well, unlike the songs. The cassette player rolled and the song started with a squeak. Mr. Dutta, donning torn jeans, a red bandana and a body hugging T-shirt started shaking his legs as Mr. NF followed suit. Unlike the rehearsals, there was something missing, as NF kept staring at Mr. Dutta and followed him. After a few minutes of suppressed anger Mr. Dutta nodded his head towards NF asking ‘whats wrong?’
NF flapped his hands on his ear, meaning, ‘I can’t hear anything’.
Now Dutta knew the song by hard and it didn’t matter to him if it was audible to him or otherwise. But for NF, it was a different story altogether. Dutta finally couldn’t take it anymore and he stamped his feet on the stage and left, ‘To hell with dancing’. And with that, the ‘item’ of the evening drowned into nothing. Some eager singers quickly replaced the dancers, as the audience laughed, jeered and the principal wore a stern look, suppressing his internal laughter. The evening was criminally boring and NF and Dutta didn’t speak for a while after that incident. I would love to see both dancing once again & I promise I’d place a speaker facing the dancers as well. ‘O o Jaane Jana’
SSGians: The Proud Breed!
A source of motivation. A source of pride. And most importantly a reason to work harder to reach where we want to.
The ringing of the bell redefines the meaning of morning as we scrub our sleepy eyes and put on our shorts and run in the dark, with daylight still away for sometime. I have heard many a times, teachers saying and asking us to study harder, as we had sacrificed our childhood staying away from our parents and more importantly, as we had come out successful in the interview and succeeded in getting an admission in Sainik School Goalpara.
We passed our routine exams with the little time we had to study in the midst of games, House activities, punishments, parades and functions. Its 8 years now since I left the school. It will vary for many of you who might be reading. However, the definition of professional success isn’t a static or pre defined one. One can be called a success even if he owns a shop and excels in it as compared to an unsuccessful or half hearted attempt to do something else.
Over a dinner, I was chatting with an ex classmate of mine from school days. He was saying that of the many truths about the people of Assam, one was their lack of strength to undergo sacrifice to achieve something. And one need not look far for example. He pointed toward himself and me and said, “Look at you and look at me and whatever we are doing today; our achievement is NIL when we see our past and our education.”
I am not saying this to offend, but rather to inspire several of those who have embarked upon their journey towards their goal, which is going to be tough undoubtedly. And when the going gets tough, the tough keeps going. Its time we gave befitting SALAMI to our school days, to the bruises, to the sleepless mornings and the suffocating Khaki uniform during hot summer days. Keep working and don’t forget to go back to the school when you are proud of yourself…sooner or later. Sarv Mein Saddham
Holi in Sainik School
Holi in our school was celebrated in a great style; we used to assemble in the basket ball ground in civil dress with sweets placed in the table towards one pole of the ground. There were also colours (gulal) placed in plates for each house, all the teachers were also
present.
Our Principal used to distribute the sweets and colours house wise. Students would then proceed with the formalities by applying colour on the Principal’s face and the teachers. After a small sing song with dholak, the actual Sainik School holi unfolds inside the houses!
I remember how pits were dug inside the quadrangle of the houses and filled with water from the water tank used for Toilet. Volunteers for the pit digging weren’t spared, but their clothes certainly were from being torn, unlike the others. Very few students could manage to successfully evade from being thrown into the pit or the water tank itself, in spite of trying hard to hide. But it was fun; especially hunting for the ones who would be hiding and then chasing and dragging them to the pits.
There was also inter house attacks where the chasing and running took place in the roads covering the road in front of senior and junior houses, teachers quarters and near the pond. Few students were unlucky enough to be thrown in the school pond (fishery).This idea of throwing into the pond, pit or the tank was like a chain reaction, as the one
who was resisting, would then take the charge to find another, in a way of seeking revenge with fun. That was real fun which continued to last for the entire afternoon and ended with a community bathing followed by special food in the PWD or western canteen. Of course there were few who could manage to save themselves from all these by hiding in the areas of dhobi ghat, PWD and many such places untraceable by others. Although they could save themselves from the cow dung and mud but they could not save themselves from the buckets of water from the toilet tank which greeted them in their beds once they returned!
It was really great with all the friends, seniors and juniors. I miss that a lot.
Wish u all a very happy Holi…
Interviews: Sainik School Goalpara
The postman finally turned up one fine morning and brought the call letter for the oral and medical examination. I reached Goalpara on the decided date with my mom and my uncle. Some ambassadors, jeeps and FIAT Padminis, stood littered in the grass courtyard of the venue and a black board stood on an aisle that read, ‘Medical and Oral tests, Sainik School Goalpara’. A mixed sense of achievement and awe ran through me, as I heard guardians, prompting information to their wards.
The full form of DC is Deputy Commissioner, while another old man asked the height of the Everest to his ward. Waiting for my turn, I saw going to be ‘SSGians’ coming out of a half opened door, tugging in their Shirts. Parents hurried to them, as they breathlessly asked questions about the interview. By the time my turn came, I was aware that I might have to walk in my underwear, if they suspected of ‘knocking knees’. A panel of three middle aged men sitting across a table greeted me as I went inside. A candidate was walking to and fro across the two walls, in his underwear.
They shot some general questions and after being satisfied, one of them said, ‘So you are from Dhubri.’
I could detect a glint of mischief in his eyes. He was wearing a uniform with some stars, out of which I couldn’t figure out his rank. So he continued, after hearing a meek ‘yes’ from me. ‘Suppose you are strolling on park beside the Brahmaputra, and you know the DC and the SP’s bungalows are located there. You suddenly see a group of children falling into the river. Who will you go to?’
I projected a thoughtful image on my face and said, ‘the SP’.
The balding man in white shirt asked me to read some alphabets to test my eye sight and I saw the daylight once again as my Mom and uncle asked me how it went. The postman came to my house after a month or so, bringing the admission letter for me. The round semi-distinguishable postal stamp read ‘Sainik School Goalpara, P.O. Rajapara, 783133’
The Mid Night Cat:Ghosts in Sainik School Goalpara
I was allotted Udaygiri House and I did the shifting in my IXth standard. A sense of haunted-ness hung in the air, from day one. Seniors took our introductory rounds, while telling us stories about the ghosts that appeared in the House often. I never believed them until that fateful night in December.
I was in my XIIth standard and was preparing for my Board Exams. I used to stay up till late in the night studying. I was in room number 1 and on the other end of the house stood the rows of bathrooms and lavatories. None of the bathing rooms had doors except the one in the extreme corner. It was said that a student had committed suicide in that bathroom, unable to handle the pressure of the sainik school life. It was also said that blood came out from the tape in that bathroom for sometime (I am sure that was just a rumour). Nonetheless, the fact remains that, no one used that bathroom except to wash clothes during the day.
Habitually I always went to the urinal, before going off to sleep during the 1.30-2.00 am time period. During one such nights, I saw a black furred cat staring at me with its eyes glowing in the dark. It would lead me to the bathrooms everyday. This went on for sometime, until on that fateful night, when curiosity got the better of me. I came out of my room and found the cat glowing towards me as usual. I followed it and kept following until it went inside that locked bathroom. Brushing aside the faint fear, I opened the door slowly into that bathroom. The bathroom was dry and empty. The high walls didn’t have any openings for the cat to escape. The cat never appeared again and curiously no one ever spotted the cat in the House again.
There are many such incidents that hang between the real and the unexplainable; will certainly share them some other day.
Ghosts in Sainik School Goalpara 2
The campus of Sainik School Goalpara is a huge area consisting of thousands of acres of land, mostly unoccupied. Shrubs, animals, darkness and legends came to occupy those unused mass of lands. If gossips were to be considered true, the present campus was built upon an old burial site. Such gossips never mattered to me, until one day…
I had heard several stories about ‘ghost sightings’ in Udaygiri house, which happened to be our neighbours. Of the several such stories, the story about this particular cat was probably the most circulated one - A cat that appeared at a particular time of the night and went into a particular bathroom and then vanish. (I will wait to hear this story from someone from Udaygiri House).
I was in my IXth standard, and a day of hard labour put me off to sleep in the early hours of the night, at around 10pm. The sounds from my neighbours in the room finally subsided and the lights went out within sometime, probably half an hour. It was summer and most of us preferred to wear shorts over our sleeping night dresses, flouting the prescribed rules. With no exams in the next few weeks, the lights went out in quick succession across all the rooms, putting the entire house into a silent sleep.
It was strange how the dew drops used to fall even in the warmest of summers, finely putting dotted lines on the grass below the tin roofs. The night was filled with the lethargic moaning of the ceiling fans, in the room, amplified by the hollowness of the asbestos ceiling. The heat of the night gave way to slight chillness during the late night and early morning hours. I felt an urge to take a leak and woke up as I had to walk to the other side of the hostel, where the pungent smelling bathrooms were located.
Bathrooms in Sainik School Goalpara consisted of rows of Lavatories, a water tank, rows of bathing rooms, with doors at various stages of decay, some open and some closed and some missing, and then came the high walled urinals and then finally ending in an open bathroom. The open bathroom was a bare space, surrounded by high walls, with a steel pipe dangling from the top. It was meant to have wash basins, which probably existed for a few years, when the school was established. Nonetheless, it was a space meant exclusively for the seniors to bathe and shout sing.
So I slipped into my pair of slippers and opened the door. A gust of moist air rushed in, leaving me cold and numb. The stairs were moist and gleaming with the dew. It was dark all around as I walked towards the bathrooms and my footsteps echoed in the silence. I looked away from the doors of the lavatories, as I hurried towards the urinal. I hurriedly released myself and paced towards my room. I kept turning my eye balls to inspect if I was being followed. As I stepped on the corridor, I saw someone in shorts going to my room. My half sleepy eyes couldn’t recognize who it was. He was walking slowly, in fact very slowly. He entered the room, as I reached the door, and as I went inside, I saw him walking to the end of the room, to the window in the end and then pass through it. I walked up to the window and looked outside. There stood a cat staring at me! The curled body suggesting that it just landed.
A later enquiry revealed, no one else had woken up on that night, other than me.
Ghosts in Sainik School Goalpara
Daytime and nighttime in Sainik School Goalpara are very different and contrasting. The activities of the students die down as lights go out and the grumbling of the generator dies down by 10 pm. The only audible sound that rings are the howling of the jackals and the foxes that inhabits in the shrubs and forest that surrounded the campus. Many stories made rounds about ghosts being sighted here and sometimes there. I haven’t seen any, but let me tell you, have felt many.
Unlike the senior houses, where seniors took the illegal liberty to keep awake for several reasons, junior houses didn’t enjoy such liberties and hence were always eerily silent after 10 pm. It was my first year in school and I was in my VIth standard.
A warm summer night, and the whistle from outside the reading room (room number 5) went off, marking the lights-out time. We quickly tied our respective mosquito nets and lay there in darkness, silent, according to the ‘rules’. I don’t remember for how long did I lay there like that on my bed, until the sound of the creaking door brought me back to my senses. Those days, I dint have a mobile phone to inspect the sound and neither an indiglo watch to check the time. My flash light lay dead for want of battery replacements, which I couldn’t get done as the CSD canteen was always occupied, every time I went there on Sundays.
My bed was at a slight distance from the door and three beds stood between mine and the door. The darkness was absolute and not even a faint shade of light existed. All I could hear was the distinct sound of an unhurried dragging walk. It paused momentarily somewhere between the door and my bed. Scared I was and could never know if there was anyone else in the room, awake and listening to what I was. A sound of a match stick striking came from where it stood…and then a long drag…of what seemed like someone smoking a cigarette. But no lights emerged from it. The dragging of the feet resumed.
I could not gather the courage to scream, lest I attracted this invisible visitor’s attention without being able to wake my roommates. The sound crossed towards the other half of the room, away from the door. A sound of fluttering pages came out. I perspired and still I wished I had a blanket to cover myself and hide. The sound became indistinct and the next thing I saw was the morning light and the familiar sound of our matron…”Utha Utha” (get up, get up).
Many of my fellow friends experienced the same. Some say, it was a prank. Might be prank it was. But a lot many things happened during those seven years, to me and to many others. All of them couldn’t be prank.
SSG Ticklionary: A short list of ticklish definitions
EPD: Exempted from PT and drill. Ever had the fortune to watch others do the job of running around? Well, there are certain basic criteria to obtain an EPD. You need to be actually unwell enough to not be able to run around or be a good actor. And secondly, after obtaining an EPD make sure that you watch the activities around you with a ‘sick’ face, or else you never know, anyone might drag you to run, from seniors to whimsical Army Ofiicers.
SDA: I still do not know the formal meaning of SDA. However, what I know is that it’s a group started in the year 2000 that took pride in stealing fruits from the backyard gardens of teachers and exploding the black boots by placing explosives inside them, apart from many others. Group members can be identified by their black scarves and determined eyes. They were our Robin Hoods, who would feed the hungry students for free. The full form of SDA happens to be School Destruction Activists.
Extra Drill: If you ever see Khaki Uniform clad students standing or more possibly running in the afternoon sun, immediately after lunch, make no mistake. They are not practicing to join the army or rehearsing for the upcoming inter house drill. They were probably caught while running to Goalpara or the nearby, but out-of-bound areas like the Western or the PWD canteens. Stories often came up, about sympathetic army subedars, and how they said… “start jumping when the principal or the headmaster arrives”. Though a serious form of punishment, it was lesser in degree when compared to punishments by genuinely angry seniors! And we know of many such friends, who spent more afternoons jumping around than anything else.
Dingi: A subject of awe, that took to legendary proportions. ‘Dingi’ in Assamese translates into ‘neck’. Mr. R.M.Verma was known to thrash students on the back of their neck. The pain is inexplicable in words, even by those who had the misfortune of undergoing it. Do read Kingshuk’s story to know more.
Regimental Dinner: A fancy imitation of an actual formal lavish dinner, to mark an important occasion in the school calendar. It often succeeded in imitating the atmosphere, while failing miserably in the food aspect. A pair of Bagpipers walks around the mess, followed by a grace, and then the food. Hint: If the mess has been serving extraordinarily bad food for a while, its an indication that its doing ‘cost cutting’ to be able to offer a regimental dinner. If you are particularly addicted to bread crumbs with watery chicken soup, check the school calendar!
Time Bomb: It doesn’t tick away to an explosion. It’s a crude time bomb, that seems to go off everywhere around Diwali time. An agarbatti (incense stick) is lighted and is attached to the coil of the bomb. Hidden under the bushes, the louder ones even place under the chairs of Hit List teachers in the mess. BANG!
Old Nine: He walks like a don and acts as if he is one. What sets him apart is that he is packed off to senior houses in VIIIth standard unlike others who reach senior houses in their IXth standard. So by the time their fellow classmates reach senior houses, they are old and hence the term, ‘Old Nine’. Understandably he often considers himself pseudo senior to his own classmates!
A Brain Teaser
So these are few questions which I want SSGians to answer.
- What are the names of the assistants of Amiya (except foni)?
- What was the name of the official photographer of our school (not S.Narayan)?
- What was the name of our Tailor?
- What was the name of our cobbler?
- What was the name of our movie projector operator?
- What was the name of our mess manager and his assistant?
- What was the name of the K.G school inside our campus?
- What were the names of our school bus drivers?
- What is the name of our stationary store in charge?
- What is the name of our accountant?
The Story of a Painter
A week before the event, the smell of the burning candle and the ‘shoe polish’ pervades every House, and every room and spills over into the corridors. And a day before the event the smell of Brasso adds to the spice as we start polishing the metal parts of our uniform – the belt locks, the shoulder badges, the cap badge and the innumerable badges, some earned and mostly for the glitter.
And a month before the event, we hear the familiar noise of the commander, ‘Left right…Left right…Heel Dig, Shoulder tight, Left Right..Left Right…’ The digging of the hard heel of our boots would soften the dry earth beneath and bring out the water to the surface. Every house cherished for the ‘Drill Trophy’ and it was pretty natural to hear the familiar commands erupting from each house, and at times, even at odd hours of the night.
The point system in the Drill competition ensured that everything was looked into, starting from the turnout to the marching and from our haircut to the crispness of our uniforms. Udaygiri House had won it for several years in succession, until it was snatched away the previous year. Legend has it that ‘ghosts’ or ‘spirits’ used to come and guide the Udaygiri house team during the practice sessions. It seems funny to realize that we actually were ready to buy such ideas.
The previous year, Lachit House shocked us all by coming up with this unique surprise. On the day of the event, as we faced each other, their shining boots made our boots look pale, in spite of going through all the strict traditional process of smearing them with candle, and then with shoe polish, and then the adequate strokes from the hard brush and the soft brush. After the drill was over, news came that, Lachitians had painted their shoes with wood paints. I envied their boots, as the shine remained even days after the event. And then a time came, when the paint started to crack, and no shoe polish could fill those cracks and they started to look ridiculously old. The black paint nonetheless did its job, as Lachitians at least gave a stiff competition (I don’t remember if they won the trophy that year).
It so happens that we always practice for the drill in a different pair of shoe and keep a fresh one for the D-Day. Alongside the drill practice, I was also occupied with some paper works as I was the office bearer during that particular year. So, I finally took out my fresh pair on the night before the D-Day and tried them on and a sense of horror struck me! It was too small for my feet.
I summoned a junior and asked him to find a ‘fresh pair’ of boots for me. After a tense hour or so, he came back with an unused pair. Now anyone who knows leather understands how difficult it is polish an unused and never polished piece of leather and more so, if one had to wear it in the drill. I raced my mind and was struck with an idea. I managed to find a half filled container of black paint and splashed it generously on the boots and left it to dry over night. I kept checking its dryness, sometimes merely looking at it, or at times pressing my finger on it. So by the dawn of the morning, there were several finger prints on the shoes to my horror! And it was yet to dry. As I left for classes, the bright sun suddenly turned gloomy and ominous dark clouds came up from nowhere. After a tensed day of classes, I had a quick lunch and came running to check my boots only to put yet another impression of my finger on it. The mess bell went off marking the time to leave for the Drill competition. I slipped my feet carefully without bothering the half dried paint and joined my team outside the house, as some of us chanted house Slogans, and get countered by slogans from other houses. We started to move towards the ground.
Half way through towards the ground, I felt a sense of sponginess on my feet and I looked down and Oh my God, the half dried paint had befriended some dried twigs, loose grasses and pounds of dust clung around it.
I felt like screaming, ‘Lachitians you dint warn me about this!!!’
Surjya Pahar Mela
So we explained that we that taken permission. Hence, it was okay…but he still started questioning us. He asked “Did you eat any junk food….we said “No”…. Did U got involved in gazing at girls…we said “No”…. He again asked….Did u eat Jalebi or Samosa…we again said “No”. Mr. P.L.N. was impressed by us and complemented us for maintaining school discipline in the outside world as well. That was it … we went back to our class but we forgot that we had met Bulon (our classmate) also in the Mela who had gone without any permission. After us…Bulon was called and we didn’t know that. He was also interrogated by the Don. Mr. Bulon in his will to save his own skin, gave all details of what we did in the Mela….eating all junk foods including Jalebi ,Samosa, Sugarcane, etc. What happened next, can easily be guessed by any SSGian…..Extra-Drill. Mr. P.L.N, who was so happy with us a moment before, got really pissed off. He called us to his room and started by saying… “you Buggers”. That was it….screwed….Me and Phanda were asked to wake him next day at 4am in the morning and take him on a cross-country jogging of 8km. What an experience……
NCC camp, Tenga Valley (1)
The sunglass wearing bus driver, drove like a maniac, as he navigated the severe turns on our way from Tezpur (Assam) to a town in Arunachal Pradesh (don’t remember the name now). The happiness that came out from getting to come out through the guarded gate of the school was intoxicating, more so, as only a few of us did so as the rest of the school carried out their mundane activities.
We were going to attend the ‘All India NCC camp, TENGA Valley, Arunachal Pradesh’ and get to spend approximately 14 days out of the school, away from those regular PTs, classes, uniforms, and the teachers and seniors.
We finally reached an army camp, and busied ourselves like hungry wolves in an army canteen, before sweeping down on the CSD canteen, nearby. Buses were rare in those parts, primarily occupied by the army, buses dint look feasible in that region. Signposts with quotes like ‘Speed Thrills But kills’ and ‘be gentle on the curves’ looked like ghost sign posts meant for none. After a night’s stay at the ‘barracks’ made of tin, we were shifted to our destination in a now decommissioned variant of the army truck called Shaktiman. We reached the camp site, after nightfall. The gurgling of a hilly river somewhere in the dark greeted us, as we climbed down the truck along with our respective ‘kit bags’. Our team from the school included:
A Non commissioned officer, who came with us from school and
some students from class IX, that included me. Will try recollecting their names: (kindly remind me if I missed out some)
Hemanta Kalita (3369)
Kingshuk Raktim (3345)
Anjit Logun (3292)
Kaushik Kiran Gogoi (3262)
Deepjyoti Pegu (3382)
Hirak Jyoti Bora (3367)
Samirul Hussain (3269?)
Amit Pandey (3292)
Safiqul Islam
ME
An initial fall in happened, as we stood in formation alongside several other teams hailing from different regions of the country. The gathering was presided over by a burly looking, foul mouthed NCO, who briefed us about the ‘RULES’ and primarily emphasized on the ‘NOT TO Dos’. We found shelter in one of the barracks alongside the river, which was partially occupied by NCC Orissa team, accompanied by their NCO. We occupied the empty beds on the other half of the room. At sharp 10pm, the Orissa team switched off the bulbs on their side of the world, while passing us a glance to do the same in our part of the world.
It was difficult for me to gauge, what was bothering the Orissa team that night as we chatted away much after the 10pm deadline. After all we had come out of the hostel after so long and for so short a time! Perhaps they could never understand the joy and excitement. Most them used to stay with their families unlike us, and that probably explains their ignorance. They were all of college going age and looked taller than us. We were in IXth. Our NCO wasn’t there. He was probably enjoying his freedom in his own ways, wasting away in some corner. The Orissa team confronted us, spearheaded by their NCO, pointing out our lack of discipline.
Now there are several concrete truths about SSGians, and one of them was their pride. We blasted them off their ass, as teams from other regions (esp. the NCC team from other parts of Assam came by, who we had already befriended during the short fall in).
The next morning, we got up quite late, as we found neatly folded beds on the other side. Though neat, each bed was dressed differently from the other. I smiled at the sight and went out after giving a loud wake up call for my friends. I stepped out and saw the river, flowing precariously close by. The sight was rather inviting, as the sunlight gleamed on its water. As I looked on the other side, I saw figures in a fall in, at the central fall in place in the middle. They were attending PT. I looked on the other side and I cared the least. Soon Kingshuk came out followed by others, and we started to plan our day, as if we were on a holiday! To be continued…
M.I. Room and PORK
Many a thing in our lives, perhaps happen because they are destined to happen. Perhaps many would and many wouldn’t agree.
I was in my VIth, my first year in
Being my first year in school, the thought of having to mix up with seniors (patients who were already admitted from senior classes) created a slight anxiety. As I packed my clothes, I brushed aside those anxieties, with the happy thought that I could sleep as long as I wanted! As I stepped into the MI room, the seniors stood there menacingly to greet me, and standing alongside was Mr. Janardhan ji, the ideal all rounder, who can apply first aids during games, assign medicines at times, insert syringes and bring food for us from the mess. My initial inhibition with the seniors turned out to be a false alarm, as they got friendly after small initial enquiries. It was fun as there were no rules; we could wake up late, sleep early, play and anything we wished. The seniors (Class IX) used to smoke, and that was a strange thing for me. It was there, where I learnt about the places like PWD and western canteen (out of bound places). We would often eat noodles brought from these areas by the seniors….and getting to taste noodles after so long felt simply amazing.
But the biggest breakthrough happened when a senior asked me, “Will u have pork?” I had never tasted pork. And I had often heard people saying its delicious and a lot of them going crazy to eat it. I looked at my seniors; I could see them expecting a positive answer from me and after much thought I gave them my consent. The seniors then collected 40 rupees from each and went to western canteen to bring Pork and Parathas. The rest of us waited eagerly for them. Thoughts about its taste kept coming to me and also the anxiety of the consequences if my parents would know about it. Amidst these thoughts the seniors arrived with two polybags.
After a quick inspection for law maintainers (teachers), they sprung into action, emptying the two polybags on two different plates, the parathas first and then the pork. I found the pork pieces quite cute, some white pieces attached to brown parts like two piece suits. There were other pieces that looked like mutton and few with bones. I was somewhat skeptical at first but after persuasion from the seniors I had my first bite of pork, it was awesome! I was still not sure about the attached piece when suddenly some body asked me to taste it, he said taste it is “tel” (Fat); it is very tasty and you’re going to love it. I took it, gave it a wired look and put it inside my mouth………..and it felt heaven.
That was the first time I tasted it and I must say I never looked back again. I ate it as when I got a chance during entire my stay in the school and still love it. I can miss many an important thing in my life, if pork was at stake, and that’s how much I love it.
As for my stay in M.I room- the pleasure house, I was released after 4 days with E.P.D. (exempted from PT and Drill) for 3 days. If I love pork, it perhaps because of the MI room with green roof and those seniors. Thank you!
Selection for Camp: The Last 20
1400 hours: Many of us are availing the precious half an hour break between lunch time and the prep class (which have been replaced by the selection process for my batch), snoring, or simply lying down, or reading some magazine dog eared and tattered by excessive use. Finally the ominous mess bell went off announcing the dressing up time for the selection and prep class for the rest.
Most of us reached for the selection on time. And our instructor/punisher wasn’t surprised that none of us were late, as we were all eager to buy that precious opportunity to go out of the school, in the form of the NCC camp, held at various parts of the country (in this case, 20 would be selected out of 150, for two different camps. One was to be held in Arunachal Pradesh and the other was yet to be disclosed). The top ten will get to go to Arunachal Pradesh, while the next 10 would have to wait.
All events started with a head count, and we counted 144, 2 sick in quarter (SIQ in our lingo) and 2 were admitted in MI ROOM. The instructor inspected us through his dark sun glasses and declared the first test. We had to run to a nearby landmark, Kodal Dhuwa Pukhuri (the literal translation would be ‘the spade washer’s pond) and come back to where we stood, and make it in the first hundred. The approximate distance would be 4 kilometers in total.
The blow of the whistle marked the beginning of the test, as we ran like there was no tomorrow. By the time, I made it back; we were drowned in our own perspirations. I made it within the first hundred and the last 44 were allowed to go and attend the prep classes. A wooden structure stood where we were standing. Coloured in stripes of black and white, it resembled a dwarfed football goalpost. The next test involved 20 chin ups, where one jumps and hangs from the bar, and lifts the body, till the chin cross the bar. Some more fizzled out, after failing to perform the task. A tired bunch of around 90 students now looked up at the instructor, eager to perform the next task.
Two ropes stood dangling from a tall post. And we climbed like monkeys on the rope, some using their legs and some solely with their hands. No one fizzled out on this task, though many of us came down with bruised palms from the speed with which we descended, rubbing our palm with the coarse rope. We were taken on the gravel road, for push ups. For the next few minutes all I can remember now was the constant ‘up….down….up….down’. From my inverted view, I saw more students fizzling out, or simply collapsing on the ground. After what seemed like hours, around 50 of us stood the ground, looking extremely tired and the scorching sun seemed to have dimmed, probably due to the tiredness, rather than the actual onset of the evening which was still an hour away.
After a humanitarian break of 5 minutes we laid on the ground on our back and folded our knees, all set to start the next task – sit ups. The constant sound started all over again… ‘up…down…up…down’, constantly multiplied by the groans of many of us. Some more fizzled out. As they got up and collapsed on the green grass of the ground nearby. The sight of those sitting on the grass was tempting, but the hope of getting to go out of the school kept most of us performing the task. The sound of the bell in the school building across the road was followed by students rushing out juggling various balls, football, handballs, volley balls, basket balls, running to their respective grounds/courts. The whistle from the instructor meant that the test was over and as I struggled to get up, I saw my fellow mates for the first time in the entire afternoon; some were incredibly red and sweaty, while some stood there with pain written large on their face. Yet, we were the last twenty standing. The day light fast disappeared, as we limped towards our respective houses for a glass of water and a much deserved shower.
8pm. All houses assembled in the mess for dinner and we all had the same story to narrate. Our elbows won’t bend enough to lift a glass to our mouth or to take off the vest. We helped each other, as some roamed around asking for pain killers. What happens next? How did the camp go?
Dramatics: Stage Fright
I was in my IXth standard, and owing to my prior experience in acting, I got to act with senior students on behalf of Lohit House (one of the four senior hostels). Being a junior in Sainik School, bought me the role of the waiter in the play, as seniors took more glamorous roles, like that of the dukes and kings. The highlight of our plays (dramas) used to be the stage, the realistic props like furniture (lifted off from some teacher’s living rooms), fireplace, cupboards, actual trees, cannons and doors.
Doors play a crucial role in the humor of the story. So I will talk about it in slight detail. Each door in our hostels (we call them Houses, apparently to feel like a family. Ha!) used to have four flaps, two with nets and two made from solid wood . Like many other things (e.g. the TV rooms without TVs), the netted doors were defunct as well. So we plucked them off from their frames, covered the hollow from the missing net with coloured papers and transformed them into props per excellence.
THE PLAY: The setting is a European restaurant (Don’t ask me which country. I am not sure if the director himself had any idea.). As expected, the scapegoat, the junior, that was me stood there, as the curtain moved to the sides. I stood there cleaning crockery, placed on a wooden table. The lighting on the stage was always such that it blinded the performers from seeing the audience. Yet in my imagination I could see our teacher, Mr. X sitting with an arrogant look, “that’s my table huh!” as a lesser arrogant teacher, Madam Y sat there with “those are my crockery” look.
The play was going fine, and it was my turn to take the bill and enter the stage, and my script read somewhat like this, “Master Bull has sent the bill”. Now there was this senior student, Mr. R who sat there, looking anemic with acute stage fright. And before I could deliver my speech, he looked at me and said, “Why have you got the bill?” I wanted to run away from the stage and a minute presence of mind saw the words coming out of my mouth, “Coz master Bull has sent it”. It might have gone unnoticed to most amongst the audience. But I felt something worse was about to come, seeing the skin colour of Mr.R changing from red to greenish blue.
I prepared a tray of fake wine, and I had to carry it to the stage. The wooden doors stood there, separating the back stage and the front stage, as coloured papers hid the hollow from the missing nets of the door. I went towards the front stage, as suddenly, Mr. R shut the doors out of the blue. In spite of timely braking, my hands along with the tray pierced through the hollow colour papers, and there the poor waiter stood in the backstage, with half of his limbs in the front stage. Unlike my previous story, no one laughed, as another actor showed some amount of responsibility, as he helped me extract my hands, now wet with fake wine. The history of dramatics in our school is replete with such incidents, some told and mostly untold.