Alma mater memory #1

 "The story of my half relationship"

  

We were in eighth grade.

My Tamil teacher came into the class. The chairs were usually arranged like in an amphitheatre. Every day, before the class commenced, he used to sign our handwriting notes for a perceptible indication that we did not, would not and could not change the date and show the same next day or anything like that to skip those two pages of misery.

In the next few minutes, the blackboard proclaimed, ”Thirukural” in bold letters. I sat neither in the first bench nor at the back, but somewhere in the mid of that serpentine arrangement in the left corner & I recollect seriously narrating the Harry Potter & the Order of Phoenix to my bestie, rather excited at that too. While the whole class went silent all of a sudden, my laugh amidst that silence seemed as hysterical as a hyena. I was immediately apprehended by my teacher as if I had done a criminal offence & I had some questions thrown at me.

I threw the right answers back at him, but you know school teachers! So then he directed me to the corner of that same serpentine row & that’s when we met. Our acquaintance began to influence each other’s life. 

He was in my class since I joined there, but we had never spoken. I just knew him sporadically, a guy with black hair, incandescent from three to four tablespoons of coconut oil, wearing specs halfway down the nose probably and possibly confusing the speaker if he was looking through the glass or not. A thread ran around his neck with a pendant carved to resemble some Hindu deity, and one black & another orange coloured thread tied in the right wrist, the ID card, hanging near his tummy, unlaced shoes with white chalk dust as a superficial layer. I just couldn’t bear that unaccustomed silence & deliberately broke it by asking that guy, who had been writing sincerely since the class began,

“So, you take notes?"

He grinned.

I had no choice other than to wait for his reply.

He then showed me the page and apparently he had been doodling since the class started.

I sniggered and he shrugged.         

Mischievousness was an understatement when it came to us. Our thoughts Coalesced and that drove our relationship much smoother than anyone can imagine. He was equally talented but never cared much to write his home works or spend few hours for studying. 

As it happens, every mediocre student(on grade basis which I‘ve never been a fan of)was allotted to one who regularly does home works & I happened to be the one pointed to him by Mrs.Ramadevi, my class teacher.

I don’t know what worked, I couldn’t put my finger on it till now, but he fetched his first Ivory card that year. It was really a memory worth remembering for us, that even today he ironically replies, “Yes ma’am”, when I advise him regarding studies.

We were not that formal friends either to exchange positive affection all the time. We fought very bad, pinched each other, tore each other’s notebooks, threw things or played cricket with each other’s things, sometimes hid things so that the other will have to go through a lot of trouble to get that back.

We made many great memories together on which I could literally write a book. I suppose that idiot would kill me after that, but I don’t really care.

In fact, I never believed in a boy-girl friendship until we happened. According to me, a boy who never had a chance to become a boyfriend would still remain as her bestie meant, he owned good traits with unconditional love. A girl will not bring herself close to a boy unless she knows the guy in and out. At least I, most certainly will not.

He has an elder brother and I have a younger sister. And we have always felt blessed to have a sibling on opposite extremes like us to enjoy all the fights and cherish the special love we have on each other. We were not just friends but, neither were nor will be committed because both had a different focus at each stage of our lives.

And I am damn sure that one will have to die and come back to understand what relation we possess in this world, where everything is conditional including love.

This post, I dedicate it heartily to his future wife and my future husband. 

I am sharing a half relationship story at BlogAdda in association with #HalfGirlfriend

For those wondering, we got certified in ivory coloured cards, if we got 90+ in all subjects.

With smiles...

Swathi

(Investing myself completely in the art of living)

Note: This blog post has won the title and gifts of the contest #HalfGirlfriend conducted by  BlogAdda and the detailed information is available on the Acknowledgement page of my blog. 
Click here to see winners in the page of blogadda.