Author's Notes
It's been quite a while since I last wrote here. To be honest, I have no real excuse for not updating my blog, considering I've been at home for what seems like ages. My late night flight to the University Of Pennsylvania is in exactly 12 days, which, in the face of things, is just a blink of an eye. Maybe it's procrastinating writer's guilt, freshman's nostalgia or some combination of the two which has brought me back here - but the bottom line is that it's the end of a huge chapter of my life and the start of a new one. Time is continuing to fill pages of the book of my life with stories and memories: some inconsequential and some to be remembered for a lifetime. However, I can't help but try to recap some of them.
Preface
Delving deeper into that metaphor, the first chapter of life was (a very amusing) childhood. Even though it was spread across 3 cities, 2 countries and 1 rapidly growing child, my childhood can be neatly summarized with a few key words - cushioned, constructive and certainly-very-British. If the neatly groomed, innocently eager and perpetually happy Devesh of 10 years ago could ever know what was coming up ahead in life, I can only imagine he'd balk and peer out through his Lego castle. (Yes, he's still clearly very proud of it.)
Perfection
I first saw Delhi Public School International in 2005, when the car I was in broke down en route for the entrance test. The first look of the building I would spend the next 9 years in was a picturesque moment: a few inches of green and white poking out from a beautiful cloud of choking engine fumes rising up in the shape of ghostly skull. It's fair to say I didn't immediately fall in love with the place, but to claim that the constant findings of a boy moping around the junior wing (with a decidedly unhappy expression) as evidence of maladjustment is preposterous. I adjusted perfectly well. In my first week I learned 3 new words that my mother gaped at hearing, discovered shady corners of the class where I could eat my lunch without attracting the indigenous fauna and accustomed myself to the alien procedure of asking before entering a room/drinking water/sharpening a pencil/breathing.
I was one of them.
Over the years, I appreciated the subtle art of staring at textbooks while seeing through them to the floor, speed-writing homework minutes before class and carefully being prepped by the class to ask a teacher to let us free, with just the right words at just the right moment. Several misconceptions I previously held were also rapidly dismissed: the library is certainly not a place of silence and study, ICT classes are very rarely about ICT, the ten minutes of short break are amongst the most important of the day, assemblies persist to be mundane off/on stage, some teachers are so focused that writing board after board of course content is an involuntary process and some teachers are cool enough to agree to sticking 'Caution! Crazy Driver' bumper stickers on their cars.
Throughout all this, my class bonded together closer and closer (perhaps more so after each Chemistry lesson in grade 12) and discovered there was very little we could not do. How many classes can ever say they made a theatre for a zombie apocalypse film in class? Aside from the occasional leaping out of windows or sneaking into auditoriums on French Day (ahem, for the cultural performances of course), there was an enormous amount of personal growth which was abundantly visible when my batch burst forth onto stages dancing, battling (to the Eye Of The Tiger soundtrack no less) and even riding brooms.
During these years of school I found my few best friends who would prove to remain the utter fools and perfect people that they were back then all the way up to today. Guiltily respecting the teachers who had to endure us for equal amounts of time, we've found that it's truly a formidable task to get us to quiet down and work silently. There have been countless 'phone calls' to parents, endless 'minus 5s' in class tests and even cross-referenced missing paper submission reports in the case of math. Yet, despite all the mayhem, we've managed to pull through and now wherever we go or whatever we do, we'll be forces that can change the world.
As much I as would like to write endlessly about all the people who've changed my life - I can't. There really isn't any proper combination of words that can adequately capture how much I've enjoyed growing up (literally) with all of them. That was made ridiculously clear with the obvious template of Sherlock's Best Man speech underlying my Farewell address given in February this year. A clearly defining moment of my experience at DPS International was during the 'Hey Jude' song and the amazing end to it. Despite the obvious lack of practice (zero rehearsals - thank you procrastination) the song ended with everybody singing along, closing on a great note. It showed us exactly what our school has taught us: We may not always know what we're doing, but when we're all together...we'll figure it out.'
Epilogue
The last official day of school was in the first week of February. Since then we've all been caught up in a whirlwind of college applications, results and decisions. There are many parts of life yet to be figured out, but we're all turning over to a new chapter together. Thankfully, this isn't a book written by George R.R. Martin, so hopefully not too many of us will be stabbed through the heart, beheaded or fed to bears. Thanks for everything, Batch of 201x (very debatable last digit). You've given me everything, and I hope you all achieve your dreams.
PS: The weather is the same up here as it is down there, unless you think your pants and head are at different temperatures.
It's been quite a while since I last wrote here. To be honest, I have no real excuse for not updating my blog, considering I've been at home for what seems like ages. My late night flight to the University Of Pennsylvania is in exactly 12 days, which, in the face of things, is just a blink of an eye. Maybe it's procrastinating writer's guilt, freshman's nostalgia or some combination of the two which has brought me back here - but the bottom line is that it's the end of a huge chapter of my life and the start of a new one. Time is continuing to fill pages of the book of my life with stories and memories: some inconsequential and some to be remembered for a lifetime. However, I can't help but try to recap some of them.
Preface
Delving deeper into that metaphor, the first chapter of life was (a very amusing) childhood. Even though it was spread across 3 cities, 2 countries and 1 rapidly growing child, my childhood can be neatly summarized with a few key words - cushioned, constructive and certainly-very-British. If the neatly groomed, innocently eager and perpetually happy Devesh of 10 years ago could ever know what was coming up ahead in life, I can only imagine he'd balk and peer out through his Lego castle. (Yes, he's still clearly very proud of it.)
Perfection
I first saw Delhi Public School International in 2005, when the car I was in broke down en route for the entrance test. The first look of the building I would spend the next 9 years in was a picturesque moment: a few inches of green and white poking out from a beautiful cloud of choking engine fumes rising up in the shape of ghostly skull. It's fair to say I didn't immediately fall in love with the place, but to claim that the constant findings of a boy moping around the junior wing (with a decidedly unhappy expression) as evidence of maladjustment is preposterous. I adjusted perfectly well. In my first week I learned 3 new words that my mother gaped at hearing, discovered shady corners of the class where I could eat my lunch without attracting the indigenous fauna and accustomed myself to the alien procedure of asking before entering a room/drinking water/sharpening a pencil/breathing.
I was one of them.
Over the years, I appreciated the subtle art of staring at textbooks while seeing through them to the floor, speed-writing homework minutes before class and carefully being prepped by the class to ask a teacher to let us free, with just the right words at just the right moment. Several misconceptions I previously held were also rapidly dismissed: the library is certainly not a place of silence and study, ICT classes are very rarely about ICT, the ten minutes of short break are amongst the most important of the day, assemblies persist to be mundane off/on stage, some teachers are so focused that writing board after board of course content is an involuntary process and some teachers are cool enough to agree to sticking 'Caution! Crazy Driver' bumper stickers on their cars.
Throughout all this, my class bonded together closer and closer (perhaps more so after each Chemistry lesson in grade 12) and discovered there was very little we could not do. How many classes can ever say they made a theatre for a zombie apocalypse film in class? Aside from the occasional leaping out of windows or sneaking into auditoriums on French Day (ahem, for the cultural performances of course), there was an enormous amount of personal growth which was abundantly visible when my batch burst forth onto stages dancing, battling (to the Eye Of The Tiger soundtrack no less) and even riding brooms.
During these years of school I found my few best friends who would prove to remain the utter fools and perfect people that they were back then all the way up to today. Guiltily respecting the teachers who had to endure us for equal amounts of time, we've found that it's truly a formidable task to get us to quiet down and work silently. There have been countless 'phone calls' to parents, endless 'minus 5s' in class tests and even cross-referenced missing paper submission reports in the case of math. Yet, despite all the mayhem, we've managed to pull through and now wherever we go or whatever we do, we'll be forces that can change the world.
As much I as would like to write endlessly about all the people who've changed my life - I can't. There really isn't any proper combination of words that can adequately capture how much I've enjoyed growing up (literally) with all of them. That was made ridiculously clear with the obvious template of Sherlock's Best Man speech underlying my Farewell address given in February this year. A clearly defining moment of my experience at DPS International was during the 'Hey Jude' song and the amazing end to it. Despite the obvious lack of practice (zero rehearsals - thank you procrastination) the song ended with everybody singing along, closing on a great note. It showed us exactly what our school has taught us: We may not always know what we're doing, but when we're all together...we'll figure it out.'
Epilogue
The last official day of school was in the first week of February. Since then we've all been caught up in a whirlwind of college applications, results and decisions. There are many parts of life yet to be figured out, but we're all turning over to a new chapter together. Thankfully, this isn't a book written by George R.R. Martin, so hopefully not too many of us will be stabbed through the heart, beheaded or fed to bears. Thanks for everything, Batch of 201x (very debatable last digit). You've given me everything, and I hope you all achieve your dreams.
PS: The weather is the same up here as it is down there, unless you think your pants and head are at different temperatures.