I have never really figured out this nostalgia thing. You know, going all dewy-eyed about a place from where you could hardly wait to get away, when you were there. Feeling all warm and fuzzy about the guys who you dreamed of bashing up, if only you could. Never really thought that it could afflict me but, then, every man thinks he is immune to any disease - till he gets it, that is. So, back in Neyveli for the nonce, all dewy-eyed and feeling warm and fuzzy and all that jazz.
Exactly WHY I am feeling warm and fuzzy, I cannot figure out. Yes, that was the Teachers' room where they passed around my test notes. Not because they were taking turns at admiring my intelligent answers. No. It is just that they were all taking turns at figuring out exactly what I had written - my handwriting being what it is. I was even told that there was a prize for the one who actually managed to decipher it - and it remained unclaimed till the day I exited the portals of the school. The sigh of relief of the teachers, I am told, was mistaken for a cyclone. AND, yet, I am all dewy-eyed in this place which had heard my name cursed in English, Tamil, Hindi and Sanskrit, and in mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, history and geography metaphors.
Not that the teachers had restricted themselves to cursing. I probably spent more time on my knees than on my ass; more time standing on the bench than sitting on it. AND, yet, these scenes of childish pain now evoke a 'Good Old Days' feeling - hah! Days very seldom become 'good' unless they become 'old', I think. But, I suppose, there IS a special feeling when you visit these places with the confidence that you cannot be made either to kneel or stand on the bench, now. THAT special feeling of immunity probably accounts for that warmth and fuzziness under your T-shirt.
And the people - your former co-students! THIS was the guy who thought that the pen was useful for only one purpose - to spray ink on your white shirt. (No - he is not in HR still reading ink-blots...). THAT was the guy who felt that a show of friendship involved wiping the dirt of his hands on your back. AND this chap...who came first in class all the time with the sole purpose of providing an example for parents to beat up the rest of us kids with. WHY am I feeling warm and fuzzy with them?
THERE, I think I have the iron-clad reason. You see, you may love but cannot be sure that the love is returned. You may feel friendly but cannot be sure that the friendship is returned. But, by God, if people have traveled miles to get back to this place, when you feel nostalgic about them, you KNOW that it is returned!
No wonder, Nostalgia scores are possibly the strongest emotion!
Exactly WHY I am feeling warm and fuzzy, I cannot figure out. Yes, that was the Teachers' room where they passed around my test notes. Not because they were taking turns at admiring my intelligent answers. No. It is just that they were all taking turns at figuring out exactly what I had written - my handwriting being what it is. I was even told that there was a prize for the one who actually managed to decipher it - and it remained unclaimed till the day I exited the portals of the school. The sigh of relief of the teachers, I am told, was mistaken for a cyclone. AND, yet, I am all dewy-eyed in this place which had heard my name cursed in English, Tamil, Hindi and Sanskrit, and in mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, history and geography metaphors.
Not that the teachers had restricted themselves to cursing. I probably spent more time on my knees than on my ass; more time standing on the bench than sitting on it. AND, yet, these scenes of childish pain now evoke a 'Good Old Days' feeling - hah! Days very seldom become 'good' unless they become 'old', I think. But, I suppose, there IS a special feeling when you visit these places with the confidence that you cannot be made either to kneel or stand on the bench, now. THAT special feeling of immunity probably accounts for that warmth and fuzziness under your T-shirt.
And the people - your former co-students! THIS was the guy who thought that the pen was useful for only one purpose - to spray ink on your white shirt. (No - he is not in HR still reading ink-blots...). THAT was the guy who felt that a show of friendship involved wiping the dirt of his hands on your back. AND this chap...who came first in class all the time with the sole purpose of providing an example for parents to beat up the rest of us kids with. WHY am I feeling warm and fuzzy with them?
THERE, I think I have the iron-clad reason. You see, you may love but cannot be sure that the love is returned. You may feel friendly but cannot be sure that the friendship is returned. But, by God, if people have traveled miles to get back to this place, when you feel nostalgic about them, you KNOW that it is returned!
No wonder, Nostalgia scores are possibly the strongest emotion!
A warm fuzzy feeling as one reads the post. Hope the reunion function went well. Have a safe trip back home sir ji :)
ReplyDeleteNo reunions in my school and all - vazhila paatha - hi -- hello nu kooda kedayadhu - each one goes his own way!! Worst batch of all time -- forever we used to beat each other up and once we joined hands and bashed up the Maths vaadhyar!!!
Very violent batch yours :) This is not really an organized reunion. Just so happens that some 6-8 of my batch are here at Neyveli right now :)
DeleteYou spent time on your knees? I thought you were the class monitor and teachers pet.
ReplyDeleteWho, me? Any of my teacher who read this will die laughing at the very thought :)
DeleteBrought back memories, your post did! Not all of them evoking that fuzzy feeling, I must tell you. Not when your class teacher believes that sparing the rod will spoil the child! Not when your class monitor believes that even a whisper deserves a bench-stand. I must admit though that if they hadn't done those things, I am not sure I would have turned out the way, I did. But yeah, totally agree with you on the nostalgia thing. Felt those inexplicable warm feelings towards several classmates, many of whom I had not interacted much with--felt delighted that all of them were well settled and happy in their lives. Thanks, Suresh.
ReplyDeleteThanks doc! Glad to know that the post struck a chord.
DeleteSee..! Memories do this to everyone.. And there is always something about them that leave us dewy-eyed!
ReplyDeleteCheers
Geets
Thanks Geetika
DeleteHehe. Bang on. I think it's because of selective memory or something..And the whole feeling puts a haze around all the bad stuff..Think the same thing happens in all reunions :)
ReplyDeleteSure does :)
DeleteI am always the one for nostalgia as you know.
ReplyDeleteYes and a good job too on the blog :)
Delete