Yesterday, during the course of a long (in terms of both distance and duration ;) ) with a friend, I was reminded of my school days. Having passed by my school quite a few times on my way to and from my friend's wedding while in Chennai, I was already experiencing a wave of nostalgia.
Last week, I happened to wash one of my bags. I'd tried to reduce the load in it a few days earlier, but I ended up discarding just a few bus tickets and putting everything back into my bag. Anyway, point is, I had 'cleaned' my bag, and then I started talking to my brother. He suddenly reminded me of some of our school days.
During most of my school days, I used to leave everything to the last possible minute - be it doing my homework, polishing my shoes or packing my bag according to the time-table. Sunday evenings would invariably find me ruing the waste of a Saturday while doing my homework and then polishing my shoes just before going to bed late at night. (Back then, I used to sleep by 10 p.m.) Every single week would find me resolving to 'improve' myself by finishing my chores earlier, but then, as I've said before, resolutions are made to be broken :) (It was only towards the end of my schooling that I realized it was simpler carrying all the books around, than to break my head over the time-table each day)
Alas, I digress. I was going to write about a certain incident with my brother. Once, I was doing my last-minute hurrying and throwing into my bag any book of mine that I came across and finally reached school. During the course of the day, I put my hand into my bag to take out my geometry box, and my fingers came into contact with something round and smooth. I decided to investigate the matter after the class, and when I did so, I found this rubber ball we used for playing cricket. I wondered how it could have possibly gotten there, and it was only when I was talking about it at home later that evening that I realized that my brother was the culprit, the reason behind the ball being in my bag. He'd counted on my not having time to check my bag before leaving for school, and I'd proven him right. (Truth alone triumphs,eh?;) )
Being the dumb creature that I was, I still hadn't learnt my lesson. I once found some clothes in my bag, and another time, a comb. (Which eventually ended up on the top shelf of our classroom, don't ask how...)
Just last week, my brother jokingly asked me to leave my bag with him, but I warned him not to put in anything. Thankfully, he didn't. Though he did ask me if I'd found anything in my bag, thus making me search my bag frantically for a while before I realized that he was pulling my leg.
More later. Maybe. Maybe not.
Adios
* - the title is 'modified' from 10cc's "The things we do for love", a song I like :)
Last week, I happened to wash one of my bags. I'd tried to reduce the load in it a few days earlier, but I ended up discarding just a few bus tickets and putting everything back into my bag. Anyway, point is, I had 'cleaned' my bag, and then I started talking to my brother. He suddenly reminded me of some of our school days.
During most of my school days, I used to leave everything to the last possible minute - be it doing my homework, polishing my shoes or packing my bag according to the time-table. Sunday evenings would invariably find me ruing the waste of a Saturday while doing my homework and then polishing my shoes just before going to bed late at night. (Back then, I used to sleep by 10 p.m.) Every single week would find me resolving to 'improve' myself by finishing my chores earlier, but then, as I've said before, resolutions are made to be broken :) (It was only towards the end of my schooling that I realized it was simpler carrying all the books around, than to break my head over the time-table each day)
Alas, I digress. I was going to write about a certain incident with my brother. Once, I was doing my last-minute hurrying and throwing into my bag any book of mine that I came across and finally reached school. During the course of the day, I put my hand into my bag to take out my geometry box, and my fingers came into contact with something round and smooth. I decided to investigate the matter after the class, and when I did so, I found this rubber ball we used for playing cricket. I wondered how it could have possibly gotten there, and it was only when I was talking about it at home later that evening that I realized that my brother was the culprit, the reason behind the ball being in my bag. He'd counted on my not having time to check my bag before leaving for school, and I'd proven him right. (Truth alone triumphs,eh?;) )
Being the dumb creature that I was, I still hadn't learnt my lesson. I once found some clothes in my bag, and another time, a comb. (Which eventually ended up on the top shelf of our classroom, don't ask how...)
Just last week, my brother jokingly asked me to leave my bag with him, but I warned him not to put in anything. Thankfully, he didn't. Though he did ask me if I'd found anything in my bag, thus making me search my bag frantically for a while before I realized that he was pulling my leg.
More later. Maybe. Maybe not.
Adios
* - the title is 'modified' from 10cc's "The things we do for love", a song I like :)
Nice one. Made me think about my school days. Once I've forgotten the notebook in which I had done a homework for a werewolfish teacher and I cycled back 5kms in a heavy monsoon rain for the book. After reaching the school again, I found out that the teacher was on leave! :D
ReplyDeleteThanks, Manu :)
ReplyDeleteYour comment reminds me of how I once left my DD back home when I went to write an exam, and unlike you, I did not go back. Instead I made my brother come all the way on his only day off :D