Odyssey, Ansar Alumni meet – A student of 12 years says…

This post should be fun when my kids grow up enough to be able to read it.

This also isn’t a summary of the event. It is more or less about what School meant to me, a few memories and what I felt being back there for a day.

History

I never liked going to school. There was nothing that I looked forward to on any given day – except for those rare days when one of them promised to give me a new Nintendo / Sega game cassette. Even that too brings back bad memories when they cheat me by sticking a Mario Brothers chip inside a Batman’s game cassette cover.

I didn’t like going to school.

Oh, don’t get me wrong though. I was always one of the top 3 when you looked at marks, I had one of the best hand writings no matter which grade I was in, I was almost always the teacher’s pet.

But I didn’t like going to school at all.

My parents had no problems regarding my studies or my marks, but boy oh boy, the different “sicknesses” that I creatively invented consistently to skip a day at school! I didn’t mind the day going to complete waste with Doctor’s visits, having to “lie in bed and rest” or take medicines. The invention wasn’t just limited to my parents, but even at school – the sudden tummy aches were a thing of beauty that would allow me to go and sleep in the Teachers’ staff room and even get treated to Tea and Biscuits after my naps. I was the studious, top of the class, silent kid with such good obedience. They had no choice but to treat me nicely.

I just didn’t like going to school.

I was never into sports. I liked professional wrestling and if you’re among one those who’ve watched WWE’s attitude era shows, then you know how it is completely different to any other “sport”. I was deep into comics & video games. There were only very few kids who shared my enthusiasm and even if they did, they were into some sport or other suffice to say, I used to just sit and while away my time during PT (Physical Training) hours. There was no “training”. It was just a “Free period” where all the kids could go to the ground, spend an hour playing whatever they wanted to however they wanted to, get in line and get back to class.

I really didn’t like going to school.

Then there was the youth festival – the yearly event with stage shows, off stage competitions, etc. I shied away from all of those except for one off stage event of playing the piano in my 11th grade or so where I got 3rd prize. I didn’t like the competition spirit (maybe because I lost a few times back in the day) and the way we were selected from each class and then the “yay winner boo loser” stuff afterwards.

I didn’t like going to school.

Last, but not the least, my FoP – Fear of Public Toilets (no, it’s not a medical term. I just made it up). Gosh, I’d hold it all in the entire day, every single day from morning when I get in the School Bus until I get back home. I remember exactly what triggered this fear in me. I won’t get into the details (trust me, you don’t want to know), but it was an experience when I was 5 years old, doing my UKG where the “toilet” was a slab of bricks.

Definitely didn’t like going to school.

The event & experience (https://ansaralumni.org/odyssey/)

As you might’ve guessed, I wasn’t in touch with any of my friends from school. The exceptions were Hashim, Abid and to an extent Fazil Hassan.

Hashim – because he was my senior at college since I took a year off to prepare for my Engineering examinations.

Abid – because… well.. he is that guy who is just good at keeping in touch with all of his friends and maintaining those relationships.

Fazil Hassan – because our homes were pretty close by.

Hashim told me about the July 9th when I met him in June before Eid. He is one of the few people whom I have poured my heart out to a couple of times and I take his thoughts and advice seriously. I was initially terrified at the notion of attending an alumni event for the reasons I mentioned above. However, just like how it is for humans, I’ve had my fair share of experiences and reasons to give it a shot.

Besides, what was there to worry about, eh? Say hi, bye, smile a little, share a few greetings and return. Nothing to worry about at all. I decided to just visit, roam around the place and return.

1. Reaching:

For old time’s sake, I took a bus, and it was raining. Had been almost 10 years since I took a bus. I didn’t get a seat until Changaramkulam. Then somebody from the last seat got up and I sat at the place. I dozed off a little, and then I started to remember.

I remembered how much I looked forward that 5 to 15 minutes of sleep while on the way to school. I remembered how I used to look at people on the back row seats and praying for one of them to get up so that we could sit. (Might be worth mentioning the unwritten law of how school students with concession tickets were only allowed to sit at the last row of seats)

I got down at Perumpilavu, still then not being sure of what the heck I was doing. I reached the gates of my School. I didn’t waste any time in picturing myself in my own movie, getting back to School after 15 years, with Bryan Adam’s “On a day like today” playing at back of my head and slowly taking one step at a time, looking around with my mouth open.

I was pulled back to reality when I realized my eyes had watered. As Asiya “Miss” used to tell my Mom – “Haris cries even if I tell everyone to clap when he gets the 1st rank in the class”. The thought made me laugh and I proceeded to the registration section. Everything was chaotic and people were trying to make sense of setting things up. I thought I was late when I reach after 9.30AM, but apparently I was early.

2. Registration:

I was waiting for them to set up when I saw Hamsakka, the peon (It was not until I wrote this word that I realized this was the spelling and not pune! My lord!). He was ready with the template greeting since he has been serving there for the past 30 years and it was not as if he had a teacher-student relationship.

Then I saw that person (going to be referred to as TP from now on). I could remember.

It was just when I turned back from TP that Jamal came walking to me with a pleasant smile on his face and just hugged. As expected, my eyes had watered. I was never really friends with him, but I was genuinely happy. It was sickeningly ironic that the first thing we both talked about was the name of the medicines that both of us were taking.

3. Roaming around & the memories:

It was during registration that I met Sabir, Ranjith & Rithin. After the heart warming shaking of hands, the first question was to Ranjith whether he was the one who gave me the “Comix Zone” Sega game cassette.

Ranjith, Rithin & I started walking. We walked through the front of a few of our high school classes. We knew there was a toilet there, but couldn’t find it. Rithin noticed the “Staff Room” sign on top of the door where the toilets used to be. We didn’t say anything. We just looked at each other and laughed.

Whatever was “officially” happening at the auditorium on the stage was just too loud and intrusive for an event like this where all you wanted was to take yourself back to the past and without worry of judgement, use your mates’ company to get there. To remember. Not just memories, but priorities, the changes, the growth, the decisions, reflect, map and most importantly to feel alive. To feel thankful.

Unfortunately, that had to wait. TP was around. Everytime I got a glimpse, the hate came rushing back and interrupted my emotions & peace. I was surprised at how clearly I remembered TP making my Mother cry, humiliating her in front of other teachers, calling her and her son a liar just to defend TP’s ass.

I remembered.

I let it be and the 3 of us decided to get out of the auditorium and roam around. We strode down the path to the Banaath, opposite to the library. Taking that step onto the road leading there sent a shiver down my spine. The fear. The fear of being near or even seeing girls! I said that out aloud and all of us had a good laugh along with some Girls crossing our paths.

I fondly remembered when I found that abridged Ladybird Book of the Dracula story lying in the corner of one of the many shelves. The book I took from there. The book that gave me the first taste of reading a “novel” as opposed to comics.

I remembered. Very gratefully remembered. Lovingly remembered. That hardcover Ladybird book.

We roamed around starting from our 1st standard classes. We talked about the places where we threw sticks at the plum trees, the places where we fell down at and got bruises from, the old shed that served as a canteen made of Cocunut tree leaves. How we had to run and take tokens for 5Rs or so during the morning short interval and use that to get delicious Porotta for lunch at noon. That and the delicious round “Kadala Muttayi”s. There was a huge building there now on the foundations of which we used to hold small sticks and run around as if we were driving buses and cars. We obeyed the driving rules at the junctions.

I remembered. We remembered.

Some of the buildings were new. We walked over to the Banaath and crossed it talking about where each our classes were all the way from 1st standard to 12th. The “Fear of Girls” was a consistent and amusing topic all through the walk in this part of our school. We got to the building where the “School Store” was. It initially was in the main building, but had been moved. To my own surprise, things came to me. The passbook which you could “Recharge” and buy things using the balance. The “red”, “blue”, “green” story books and how I had a collection of all of it. Gafoorka, the store keeper.

I remembered. Trust me, it was a huge deal for me.

We decided to walk back to the auditorium. We kept on talking, one thing after another. We were desperately trying to dig up the past with excitement of the curiosity that sparked within us as kids. Desperately trying to make most of the time we had to somehow get as much past as possible and reach the present. TP was a part of the conversation. I was happy that almost all of us were on board with using the term “sadist” in describing TP.

We remembered. It wasn’t just me.

4. Girls:

WHAT!?

5. Teachers whom we met:

  • Habeeb Sir

He looked exactly the same (well, most teachers did) except for a few grey hair. I went upto him and the familiar feeling of terror that all of us had crept back up. It was funny in a way – those long lasting impressions that you have about a human even after so many years.

I greeted him with a Salaam and said, “Sir, this is Haris. You’ve caught so many of my game cassettes”.

“Oh come on, there are so many guys whose game cassettes I’ve caught”, said he. In other words saying that he doesn’t remember me. Since he was one of the organizers, he didn’t have much time to stand and chat.

  • Abbas Sir

My Hindi sir. He looked exactly the same as well except for the hair lost on his head. Two things came into my head immediately the moment is saw him:

1. The tightly folded full sleeves around the forearm.

I had saw it then when I was a kid and for whatever reason, always wished I could do it that way. If you saw me today, I always wear full sleeve shirts and I fold up my sleeves just like that. The only difference is that I’m so lean that my sleeves just dangle around my forearm. I promise I’m working on it.

2. The Hindi poem starting “baar baar aathihe mujkho madhur yaadh bachpan…”

I don’t know Hindi. My Hindi is the stuff of pure unadulterated comedy at home and with Bangalore Autorickshaw walas as well where they debate the price and finally have enough hearing my bull sh** Hindi that they just take what they get and leave. However, this poem has never left my heart.

I remembered.

I tried to sing it for him and my voice broke and eyes watered and I just walked way. He must’ve felt it to be weird, but I just couldn’t do it.

  • Firoze sir

Our Malayalam sir. He had a signature on-the-back-palm-strike which is more about the sound that it makes than the pain. This was what all of us in unison remembered about him. That being said, he had a certain style of conducting the class which was a mix of humor and a presentation that was hard to forget when he taught something. We loved his classes and he was as jovial and cool as he was back then.

  • NM

His name is Abdul Rahman, but he was lovingly referred to as NM. Well, maybe not by all, but I loved the guy. Someone who was good with his English back then, but who had it in him to take initiatives and be on top. He was the one who trusted me and helped me get a “food pass” – a permission for students who had their homes close by to go out of the school compound, have lunch from there and come back. Why did I get one when my home was a half an hour bus ride away? To go to some other Masjid during our Friday breaks, and I would eat from the hotel.

My friend Shereef was the one who helped me present the lie that my family was friends with his family near to school and hence I could go out.

Both of us did confess this before we left school. I knew I couldn’t live with it if I didn’t tell NM about it. I didn’t exploit his trust for anything illegal or even remotely bad. I was silently rebelling against the school’s enforcement of their religious school of thought.

I mentioned this to him and we had a hug and a good laugh about it. For a moment I wished I could relive as his student.

  • Asiya miss

As I mentioned at the beginning, the “teacher whom my Mother entrusted me to”. I’ll skip the “looked exactly the same” comments since all the teachers did look the same.

  • Reena miss

Our mathematics teacher. She immediately recognized me and it made me wonder what really a committed teacher’s perspective feels like during that time when their children graduate and leave school. When it is not just about the monthly pay, but more about seeing, wishing, hoping and nurturing a student.

At that moment, I was back and I thanked her.

  • Suprabha miss

My English teacher. The one who gave me this gift back in the day. I can’t remember what it was for, but it has always been there.

I proudly went up to her and told her how one of her students, who learnt English from her, had published a short story book. That moment where her face lit up was priceless. The first thing I did after getting back home from the event was to order and send her a copy of the book.

  • Hamid sir, Azeem sir, Shaima miss, Shiji miss, Anoop sir, Nimmi miss, Mujeeb sir

All of them who played a part in who I am today, the morals I keep and the compassion with which I see anyone who wishes to learn.

The teachers I had in my mind whom I couldn’t meet were Basheer sir (both English & Maths), Ali OP sir (Social Science), Zameena miss (English), Haris sir (Maths), Arun Kumar sir (Physics),

6. Friends:

Not the exhaustive list. Left to right – Rithin, yours truly, Luqman, Jamal, Shabeer, Sabir, Thanveer, Safwan, Ranjith, Vasih, Raqeeb, Ramsi, Arshad, Asif, Muneef & Rashid.

Both Faisal & Shabeer aren’t in that photo.

I could remember. Well, at least most of them.

The same feeling I had about tech communities around the world I’ve involved with. Except for some dude who reached towards late noon whom I couldn’t remember, and was pretty offended that I asked him his name that he wouldn’t tell it. Rahi or something, I heard the others call him. Well, there’s always one or two like that.

Giving the benefit of doubt, acceptance and making you feel comfortable in one’s presence. This is what I felt, along with the pleasure of just being able to remember.

We had the usual chats, photoshoots, conversations ranging from the details of the body’s nervous systems to how LLMs and AI applications work, and about the different teachers and experiences. It was a really wide berth and time was a luxury.

I, quite proudly at that too, told how I proclaimed to Khalid sir (I hope I got his name right) back in 4th standard that “I don’t love her, but I will marry her” about a girl called Ramsiya / Ramseena. It was as if that was the worst thing I could do to her because of some fight or something.

Somewhere between 6th to 10th, I had told Jubin how pissed off I was at the X-MEN movies casting Hugh Jackman as Wolverine. A fake made up character I hold so close to my heart that I genuinely wish I could just forget and believe in someone from the real world. I was angry about how lean and tall Hugh was while Wolverine was supposed to be short and full of muscles and was supposed to say “bub” all the time. He disagreed with me completely saying that Hugh Jackman was cool and looked really good. After almost 20 years now, I agree with him.

I could remember.

The friends I had in my mind whom I couldn’t meet were Hashim, Abid, Aseem, Andru, Jubin, Abdul Rahim (4th standard), Fasil Hassan, Shereef & Sameer. However, it didn’t matter that much. Whoever I met and was able to talk to itself made me feel content in a way I hadn’t felt in a long long time.

Apart from the entrance and the moment with Abbas sir, the one time I really lost it was when I was having a frank talk with Safwan. I had to turn away, clench my teeth and fists to hold myself together. As I was saying, he noticed and gave me my time. An extremely small gesture, but one of those things I value so much.

7. The Departure:

There were a bunch of photo shoots after this and I could feel my lack of an afternoon nap was catching up. I was drifting away and started blankly staring here and there. It was around 4 or so by then and a bunch of us decided to visit all of the classes we had sat in. While walking with this intention in mind is when I started hallucinating a bit. I was thinking too much, and loving the moments so much, and I wasn’t prepared for it. I got into one of the random classes, just pushed away something that was there on the benches and sat bent down with my head in my arms.

Rithin & Ranjith were concerned, offering to help. I was touched. However, I realized I had to go. I bid them a quick goodbye, and to whoever I met on the way out, got the next bus back home.

Wrapping up

1. TP

I hate TP. However, I could remember. The hate & pleasure in seeing TP getting what’s coming is exactly what TP would’ve wanted for the students. That hate & sadism is not something to be nurtured. It was long lived, but maybe not wanting to be like that is what made me help so many of my juniors in college and other people in the communities around the world. Now that I’ve finished pouring it out, I rest my case, and I forgive, and I hope. I hope. None of us are perfect, and we all have our flaws and our own demons to deal with. And sometimes we all just need a little help. I hope he finds the help he needs.

2. Girls

The much-too-strict separation of Boys & Girls starting from 5th standard manifested itself in weird different ways for different folks as far as I was able to have talks with. It really wasn’t worth it. I’m glad that they’ve embraced co-ed.

3. After the event

I decided on that day to be in touch. There are bonds that can be strengthened. For my friends like Hashim and Abid who never gave up on me, I’m going to be in touch and try to not make it just about me, but about the bigger picture.

4. The gift

I don’t remember what I got this for or who gave it to me, but it has been an integral part our Kitchen for almost 15 – 20 years now. So many people have eaten off it. Fruits, fries, chicken, dessert, you name it. It has guarded so many perishables acting as a lid. Most importantly, it has acted as a very entertaining toy for most of the kids in the family due to the noise it makes banging around. You can see the battle scars on it.

Soundtracks that helped me while writing this post:

1. Goo Goo dolls – I’m still here (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUZwblurraA)

2. Kaleo – Way down we go (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCkyW7RE6Wk)

3. Emeli Sandé – Read all about it (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNGEsU-BbHc)

4. Celtic Passion – The West Wind and The Munster Cloak (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVk_eG9AAbc)

5. Bryan Adams – On A Day Like Today (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMMG6ykb_7U)

6. Nathan Evans – Wellerman (Sea Shanty) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLR-ye-ZM4o)

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