If I could turn back time...

I'd relish living my school days time and time again if I could really turn back time

As moonlight peered through into the filled and roofless badminton court, the stars and our teachers were witnessing something which they were accustomed to experiencing at this time of the year. There was no wind on that typical spring evening but dancing tweflthies and eleventhies hardly cared about what was happening except for which song was blurting out from the DJ's speakers. Glorified hindi songs were almost forcing the departing ones from dancing to its tune, the others clicked photographs and munched food. Talking was being made tough owing to the loud music but shouting and yelling is always an option in such a case.

Standing in a corner, munching something, along with some of my friends, I couldn't comprehend what was drawing to a close, or an abrupt close. Although, we had spent fourteen so called long years in the school but edging departure, they seemed as short as mere fourteen days. Some fourteen years prior to the day, we had cried as little infants of four because we didn't want to leave our parents' hand and go to school, but fourteen years after that, we refrained from crying because we didn't want to leave the place we so fondly love and have irreplaceable memories of. My mind was flooded with funny and memorable incidents I had been involved in with my friends, only to regret that those won't come back again.

Shielding my ears from blaring music, my gaze shifted to the the building which had almost acted as a second home for us. The corridors,which had ground made of gravel and railings made of steel, painted in red, had seen and witnessed all our times ever closely and had been something which lured us into exploring it everyday time we exited our octagonal classrooms. I remember running around tirelessly in those corridors as a kid, chasing someone because he had ran away with my new lead pencil. I even recall slipping when doing so, when commuting to the art room and escaping and injury and later laughing it off with my friends Srijan and Ishaan. It did hurt a lot back then, but after looking back on it, I wish I could run around the corridors with those two great guys once again.

It felt strangely awkward when I realized that we won't sit together in our classroom ever again. The classroom, which was the shelter to all the fun and pranks and their aftermaths remained concealed in it, only to be revealed when the news sneaked out one way or the other. Those classrooms have a lot of secrets and unrevealed facts confined to them and trapped into them which are embedded into our memories like inscriptions on a manuscript. I'd miss that daily routine of walking into my class room before anybody else in the morning and slamming my backpack onto the chair, before sipping some water and opening some of the windows in there. And then walking out of the class like a lion walking out of his den to where my other football minded mates would jam some space.

The ramp exit, which gave a panoramic view of the areas around used to be the favorite bunking destination for kids unwilling to open their books. I daresay, I never bunked a class but did love standing there to catch some air as if we won't get it anymore. I remember treading those ramps, or slide in our language, along with Pranay and how I stormed away as soon as he slammed the window of a neighboring class shut when the teacher of that class was teaching the kids in there. It was a prank worth beating him up, as far as the victimized teacher is concerned but I still wonder why Pranay was never convicted for doing so.

The most relieving moment used to be when the peon rang the school bell and an utterly double period ended. We used to wait for it so badly that let alone yawning, some even managed to sneak out without the teacher having managed a peek at him. Sometimes, we even joked before a double period began: Why don't we feed the peon up with some money and ask him to ring the bell well before the period ends. And whenever our PT period began, we joked: Why don't we just gag the peon and tie him to a chair such that he never rings the bell and we keep playing the whole day. Although, we could never try doing so, but it seems to sound like a decent idea.

The best part of my school life began in class sixth when I managed to make friends which truly were friends in some sense. Srijan, Bhavya, Ishaan, Kunal and one or two others were friends I still am very good friends with and the moments we spent together are afresh in my memory as if they were yesterday. I remember Ishaan proudly telling us that he had watched his first full football match at midnight, which was actually a Champions League game between Tottenham and AC Milan. He wasn't into the game as much as we were but somehow he managed to remember some names. He spoke a name, which I failed to understand back then. It was Krooch or something and clearly, both sides didn't have any such player. It was only recently that I realized that he was referring to Crouch as Krooch and I still can't stop laughing at that moment when he felt like he was on top of the world.

We used to narrate horror stories to each other during free time at school and Kunal's were the most absurd. And Srijan was usually too scared to pay heed to any of them. Even when we went on our school trip to Agra, Srijan had to shield his ears from listening to another one of Kunal's whacky tales with the help of a blanket. Bhavya was one of the most easy going and funniest guys I've seen or known. No matter how many marks he got, he never stopped pulling off his antics of torturing someone or beating someone up in a funny manner.

Nothing can come close to the enjoyment that the football field gave us and how eagerly we waited for the PT period to arrive. Although, I, being a defender or a defensive midfield player, couldn't actually score many goals but I did score almost a goal or two every year. Those shouts and expletives still flood my mind whenever I think of that school ground of ours. Before the days when we were fortunate enough to have a PT period, I used to order my mom to get my white uniform ready and I still tease her about it by saying "Is my white uniform ready? We've got a PT period tomorrow'" and I'll truly miss that.

Every morning, on specified dates which I don't remember, we had our assemblies either in the ground or in the auditorium. It was one of those things which we had to do, despite of not wanting to. And if we tried to bunk an assembly, we'd get caught wandering around in the school and reprimanded. During those sticky summer months, we used to hear a moan after every passing five minutes, which registered disgust and disapproval for it. And whenever PT Sir said " Get ready for the physical exercises" the world almost came to a stuttering stand still for most. In a way, physical exercises referred to the up down movement of arms, or in all sorts of directions and I still can't figure out why it was known so. I loved when Sir ordered us to Stand at Ease. I used to stand up in Cristiano Ronaldo's gunslinger pose and I imagined myself taking a free kick at Old Trafford everytime sir said it.

Nothing came close to the fascination we boys got when watching two boys rip each other in fist fights which occasionally broke out. The best part was their build up. It began from the calm noise of a stream trickling down in a peaceful valley to the swashbuckling sound of the eye if the storm. And girls looked at those fights as if they were watching The Conjuring and Annabelle together in the most gloomy corner of the universe.

As my eyes rolled from one side of the building to another, an almost suppressed grin spread across my face. We had never wondered as kids that a moment will arrive when we'd the seeing the last of this place which had given so much to us. I stood there, trying to register all these last moments into the camera reel of my mind and attempting to hanging all these finely captured moments as tapestries at the back of my mind's easily found corner. The place which we used to see day after day as kids of 10, after being thrown into school despite of not wanting to, would forever be snatched away from us. Back then, our lives used to be so accustomed to being stress free and easy going and our minds so naive that we hardly foresaw that these moments would unfold. The moments which we were struggling to hang onto and were tugging at their heels to stay with us would never ever come back, owing to how life's meant to be.

And I wish, I could stay there forever and relive those sweet, salty and sour moments which won't cease to make us regret the fact that we grew up so quickly. And if I could turn back time, I would go straight back to the day when I first stepped foot inside the building, frantic to go back home only to be pushed in further by my parents, innocent enough not to realise how life always moves on...