Laughter erupts from one corner of the classroom during the sacred 30 minutes. No one could say what prompted the abrupt amusement, maybe it was someone spilling gravy on the desk by accident or that hilarious scene down the corridor a 2 periods ago when a teacher wore a bright green shirt and we couldn't help but call him shrek or perhaps it was all of it mixed together.
We all sit outside our classroom, books in hand for “revision” in the fresh air. Talks emerge about the future trip we might take during senior year, anything but reading our english lesson for the impending test in the next few hours.
A throng of students in mismatched uniforms, some in formal and others in more comfortable house shirts emerge on Monday. We’ll soon be questioned why we aren’t wearing the designated formals and our responses will range from “I forgot it was monday” to “It’s in the wash” when the truth lies behind the hot sun and lack of AC dampening our full hand shirts. The same bunch will be called to the auditorium for yet another meaningless assembly where some are happy they are missing the first period and others dread the stretch of standing that’ll cause their legs to hurt while walking back up the stairs to class.
Ordinary moments that enrich our school life that’ll soon be the most missed.
But we don't focus on these, not right now. Right now, the most important events that seem to dictate our lives right now are board exams and college applications. It is a fragile kind of magic—how fiercely we revere these temporary pressures, completely blind to the irony that in a decade or two, the rankings will fade, the marks will blur, and the only proof of these years that will actually endure is the echo of unprompted laughter in a sunlit hallway.
