Farewell 2024

It's Farewell Today.
How fast does time elapses.

Prepared and accompanied by Yuvraj and Ashish, we arrived at the school gate. Nature seemed to favor the occasion, with the sun gently casting its warm glow. As we approached the entrance, my heart quickened, and my hands trembled. Ashish joined his group, and we stepped through the gates, greeted by a small assembly of teachers. Soon, Manan and the others joined us. Amidst the crowd, I spotted a familiar face – Shipra ma'am, our class 5th teacher. Given her imminent departure, we hastily snapped pictures and exchanged our final goodbyes. Unfortunately, Samriddhi ma'am was on leave, as cold caught on to her.

Moving further inside with a good luck card and a flower in hand, the girls congregated on one side, boys on the other. Before us stood a grand stage adorned with "Buona Fortuna" and ladybugs against the backdrop. At 2:30 PM, the announcements commenced, and the atmosphere buzzed with familiar faces, handshakes, hugs, and the sight of exquisite girls and boys. The uneasiness in the air was palpable, yet my mind and heart found solace.

The show unfolded with songs, speeches, and dances. My discerning eyes caught every nuance – the stumble in a speech, the forgotten dance steps, and moments of sheer brilliance. Arunima's dance performance was a standout; her face narrated a tale, and her body moved as a flower among the winds of her mind. Mesmerized, I watched, captivated by each expression.
    When the tabla graced the stage, let me share that, before any judgments are made, I must confess my affinity for Indian classical music and different ragas, making it precisely my type of instrument. I was really delighted to hear all the beautiful noots.
Chiya took the stage with a professionally delivered speech – flawless and captivating. Her movements gracefully utilized the entire stage, shifting weight seamlessly from one leg to the other. Every expression she wore did not escape my notice.

The event proceeded with games – dancing with a cup atop your head, the last one standing emerging victorious. First, the boys participated, followed by the girls, with eight enthusiastic volunteers from each gender. Different faces were easily recognized, from Aviral to Anas and Neha to Harshita. Songs began and ended, winners were chosen, and gifts were distributed. People cheered for their dear ones. I heard, "Neha bina chasmai kai pahachan mai nahi ati hai," whispered Ashish sitting beside me. The boys seated behind were shouting, making noise, and disturbing my peace, but nothing could be done.

The next game included Sameer. Yuvraj and I had a sore throat from shouting his name among the crowd.

Then came the drama.
Man, it was amazing! The casting of Yash as the joker was the most perfect thing. It was incredible how different songs filled the air, and my lips synchronized with the lyrics. Even though the anchors of the drama messed up once, all was beautifully conducted. The air resonated with sentimental songs, the crowd was energetic, and eyes were fixed as the drama moved onwards—a story that reminded us of our own old days. Dances and songs filled with familiar faces.
The crowd went out of control, overtaking the stage. It was funny how the teachers failed successfully in controlling us. 

The performances ended with a speech from the most respected person of the school. Principal Sir concluded the speech with a request to all teachers to sing the school songs together. All teachers looked at each other's faces with mobiles in hand and lyrics opened. The song began, and Vikas Sir in the middle was shooting shots. No offense, but he looked like a monkey among the stationary crowd, trying to capture everything with his phone. Dressed in full black, a dashing monkey (hehe). I could see Arti Ma'am sneakily peeping into Anita Ma'am’s phone for lyrics.
Oh, didn't I mention it's Arti Ma'am’s birthday today, and she is retiring. So yes, today is truly filled with nostalgia.

At the end of the performances, everyone gathered on the ground for pictures. While Yuvraj, some boys, and I headed to the buffet. I'm not much of a food person, so I'll leave the food section for them. After eating, I paused for a moment and took in the scene.

People posing for pictures, teachers enjoying their meal. The cold breeze blew by, but everyone felt the warmth of their hearts. The humming of the crowd overpowered the sounds of phones clicking. The area was filled with beautiful maidens, teachers, and mature boys. I felt time slipping away and dissolved myself among the busy crowd, wishing that the moment could just be paused right here and now. So we could say goodbyes properly. It feels too hasty for an old soul like me.

After a while, we moved to the ground. Amidst the sunset and fog starting to build up, my mind wondered how the girls were managing. Then my subconscious answered, “Boys are cool, girls are hot.”

Midst of the hassle, I saw a face, and it was decided – a picture with her couldn't be missed, living in her own small domain.
I once again jumped amid the hummings. Our eyes met, a photo was taken. Sheetal positioned herself in close proximity, and my hand tenderly found its place upon her petite shoulder.

A girl named Sheetal, dressed in light lavender with a glowing face, lips as delicate as the petals of a lotus. A modest black bindi graced her forehead, complemented by white specks tinged with a hint of lavender. Her hair, meticulously arranged in a small bun, allowed two strands to cascade elegantly down her visage, exuding an aura of serenity White heels, a shawl of perfect match. Ears seemed empty, but there were two dots shining. A black smartwatch adorned one wrist, accompanied by a beaded bracelet on the other. A black leather handbag, in stark contrast to her dress, hung gracefully by her side, and her light brown hair imparted an enchanting allure.
A delicate necklace adorned her neck, completing the ensemble. Holding onto flowers, she stood there delicately with controlled eyes. Her body moved elegantly, much like her voice entering the ear.

She embodied the essence of a truly exquisite maiden, akin to the soft cherry blossoms wafting upon a gentle, calming breeze, never quite descending to touch the ground.
"Good Luck" lingered in the air as the final exchange.
Much like those before, this encounter bore the weight of potential finality—a poignant farewell to shared moments.

We took pictures with class girls and boys. “Couple,” I heard as I stood next to Udita posing for a picture. Then some 11th-grade students, Kanishka, Yashi, and Yash, joined us for our own Fotu session. We waited as Manan tried to find his girlfriend's lost hair clip and somehow I ended up with shades that had "12th A" written over them in my pocket. As the day neared its conclusion, a cascade of overwhelming emotions enveloped the gathering. With no intention of causing offense, I couldn't help but recognize two individuals who stood out distinctly in the crowd through my eyes—Harshita Bisht and Sheetal.

As the clock struck 6 PM, and the after-party began, everyone started to leave. However, our destination was a bit different. Yuvraj and I were among the last ones to leave the school. Soni Ma'am informed us that we would receive our Mritunjay with our admit card.

Our ride arrived, and home was not far away. My stop came, I bid my goodbyes to Yuvraj, and I moved onward to my home. In the dark, with my coat hanging from my left hand, the resonance of my steps filled the ethereal atmosphere, as the insects sang songs of my arrival. All the memories played in constant replay. Today was overwhelming and will be remembered. A long sigh smoked out of my lungs, eyes half-shut. My mind writes this.

At night, all the pictures slowly rolled in, and I noticed the people I forgot to click good pictures with – Yuvraj, Neha, Ashish, Shailja, and Gahan. The irony is that I roamed most of the day with some of them.
    The night found me listening to the acoustic version of ‘Let Her Go’ by ‘Passenger,’ on repeat. With only the study lamp lit in one corner of the room, as the warm shawl hugged me tight, my shoulders moved closer. Under the quilt, I surrendered myself to sleep with watery eyes.

A.V