Confession.

This post is dedicated to Mr. Dilip Ghosh, Senior Chemistry teacher at South Point High School.

Sodium Dilipade - Doesn't the name sound familiar? Ahh.! That was the pet-name of Mr. Dilip Ghosh. That 'kissu hobena.' Sir.!Ahh... Now i remember him completely and remembering him brings alive a set of memoirs from the smelly old classroom of XII E (Aft).

We miss you Dilip Sir. We miss those moments when we used to irritate you while you were busy scribbling some chemical shit on the blackboard. 
Yes,Sir! It was ME who started the wildfire of  'Schppp. sheeeessshhh' , and the rest of the class joined in progress. 
Yes Sir! It was that pesky Dwaipayan, who introduced the '1 takar bawal' in your class. The organ(worth Re. 1) which he used to play in your class was a very simple one yet very annoying and YET enjoyable for us. A strong string placed within two small bamboo slits and tighly taped at both ends and vibrating in transverse waves when air is blown through the mouth releasing a shrill sound common to those 'mela'r bashi'. The sound, created out of nowhere, was like a sudden grenade, making you pause your writing and swivel around to catch the mastermind behind the noise. Sadly enough, Sir, you failed everytime to spot out that pest who, while making that sound, copied down every single thing from the board (without even knowing what he was actually copying.) 
Yes, Sir.! It was me and Dwaipayan who left you missed calls in succession while in the class itself. I know how much perturbed you must have been to leave the class with a phone call and return back with a missed call.!! You even called back on Dwaipayan's number, and we couldnt just help laugh to see the expression on his face as the phone vibrated within his pocket.
Yes, Sir.! Me, Dwaipayan, Subhadyuti, Sanket and Soumyajit. We were the ones who used to play hand-cricket whilst blabbering loudly, thus making an utter ruckus which in turn annoyed you a lot. I know , Sir, how it feels when someone ignores the teacher completely and keeps the nuisance on the roll.
Yes,Sir.! It was us four who dozed off completely even before you entered the class, especially when there was a fine romantic breeze blowing outside. 
It was that blatant Sanjit whom you made the soft-target of our class. Basically, he was the most notorious of the lot. He was the one who commented on every single thing on a rather loud tone, most of them being intentional. He was the one who made that chic sound with his shoes, and then again everyone joined in harmony. Sir, I even remember Sanjit looking utterly downcast, a false expression though, when you sent him outside the class for some reason, and when you went back to call him inside, he was nowhere to be found, and this in turn drove you up the wall ONCE AGAIN.!
There were many others whom you werent able to catch, whom you weren't able to spot. Those who feigned jotting down notes , but actually busy playing Pictionary, Hangman, Criss-Cross, Bingo or just simply dozing off. Those who were upto no good in your class. Special mention goes to - Satrajit Banerjee who squealed desperately as he pulled at his own hair, Subhadyuti who screamed out of nowhere - "DIM CHAI DIM. 10 DOLLAR-ER DIM." , and of course Siddhant who had a long quarrel with you about how a 'good' student should be.
We still remember that Borishal-er bangal accent when you said "Ebhri atom hayj a cartain rizzidity.". Weird , Sir, why you always started your lectures with "Therefore..." - A query still unanswered.!   
Yes, Sir.! Its was your signature  ' Torrr kissuu hobena.' which made us go wild with laughter, which still reminds us that Dilip Sir used to say 'Tor kissu hobena.', which still makes us crave to go back and sit in 12E to listen to your 'kissu hobena ' for ONE MORE TIME.
Yes, sir , ! I confess, on behalf of everyone. I confess on behalf of myself. Today Dwaipayan is studying Engineering in Netaji Subhash Engg College; Subhadyuti is studying EIE in Future Institute of Technology; I am now in Techno India, Saltlake with EIE. Soumyajit with Mechanical in Budge Budge. Sanket with Architecture, Devpriyo a doctor. Raktima going for BA. LLB. And there are many others of the 'annoyingly marvellous' Section E who have got themselves admitted to some Institutes or the other. Each of them has a bright future ahead of them, yet each and everyone of us misses Dilip Sir's Chemistry classes a lot. Facebook is one platform where Dilip Sir'er class-e bawal is a common topic.
Good old school days, Sir, The golden days of our life.
15 years down the line, most of us will all be parents and guardians. And I'm sure ,Sir, this is what we will be telling our kids - "Jaanish toh, amader ekjon Sir chilo. Dilip Sir. Tini bolten- 'torrr kissu hobena.' Classer 80% student onake jaliye marto. Ki na korechi onar class-e. Awaj dewa, bashi bajano. gaan gawa. " 
Yes, Sir.! You will remain within our hearts like that forever. Apni amader 'kissu hobena' bolten bolei hoyto amader 'kichu korar' khideta aro bere gechlo. Apni thakchen, Sir.! Ha, ami jor golay bolchi, Apni Thakchen Sir. ! 
We miss you a lot, Sir.! Those were only memories we can preserve all throughout our life. Those memories are more precious than a set of organic reactions. And once again, before bidding adieu, I want to apologize for all those irritating moments which you underwent because of us. 
May you live in the best spirits and 
May you continue to bestow upon my juniors the doctrinal "Torr kissu hobena."
Thanking you, Sir. 
Au Revoir.

Pictionary

This game, introduced in section E by god knows who, fundamentally changed how some of us behaved during the free periods.  Before this phenomenon invaded our lives, we could be found doodling on the last pages, eating, chatting with friends, or just kicking people if the mood was right.(Yes, Amit, don’t try to look innocent.)  Now, however, students could frequently be seen huddling around a chump drawing figures on a blank page. Most of you remember the rules, I am sure, so I will elaborate on some incidents that will change the way you…guess.

Satrajit Banerjee was gravely contemplating the diagram of a bottle. His partner, the painter, I don’t remember who exactly, had tears in his eyes. I later found out that he had been given the unenviable task of describing “Perfume” to Satrajit. When Satrajit continued to look thoughtful, the painter decided to help. He drew an under-arm, and showed, in great detail, the spray coming out of the bottle. Satrajit, it seemed, was determined to get it right in one perfect guess, because he nodded just once before resuming his analysis of the diagram. His partner grunted in disapproval, partly because he didn’t trust Satrajit, but mostly because that was the best he could do without breaking the rules(Remember, you aren't allowed to talk). Satrajit, unmoved by all the grunting, continued to look critically at the bottle. The now frustrated painter decided to take things to the next level. He drew an “axe”, the tool, so that Satrajit could connect it to axe, the deodorant, and then eventually grope his way to perfume. It was a good plan, but we, who knew Satrajit’s dismal record(He had once confidently called the map of Great Britain Tibet), shook our heads. Naturally, we were very surprised when Satrajit treated everyone to a contemptuous smile and stood up to make an announcement. He winked at his partner who beamed right back because he had, in all fairness, achieved the near impossible. Satrajit cleared his throat, and said,”Ekta lok axe diye bogol kaatche.”

That was, and continues to be, the level zero in pictionary.

Raktima Roy once drew a smiley with a tail. She then looked at all of us expectantly. A variety of vacant expressions greeted her along with some stifled laughter. She accepted that with fortitude, and proceeded to improve the diagram. She shaded the smiley, decorated the tail with DNA-esque motifs, and added what looked like hairs to the tail tip. Someone guessed "Species" while some others claimed that it resembled a happy slug. After several such unsuccessful attempts, she told us the answer. "Avatar", she said severely, rebuking us for our incompetence. "You should have at least recognised the neural links.", she added, pointing at the tiny hair like structures jutting out of the tail tip as if it was the most obvious hint in the world. We did not argue.

There are many other pictionary stories, but I will save that for another day. I would like to thank both Satrajit Banerjee and Raktima Roy for their invaluable contribution.

The Dove fluttered its wings.

The School Uniform.
Its gathering dust and fungi.
I miss the sexy blue pin-stripe dress. The dove embroidered on the pocket along with the motto 'Courage to Know.'
The retro look in every single student of SPHS in that uniform. Ooh.!
I truly miss my school a lot. My school had a lot to offer me. 15 long years i spent here. 15 splendid years. White dress. Then the pin stripes. All along the school uniform played a great role in my school life.
Now, as i stare at my uniform, inkified with farewell messages of friends, i feel myself being engulfed by a cloud of memories, making me sad, making me cherish those days which are now black & white, making me feel nostalgic , making me crave to sit on the 8th bench left row beside the window with my friends, ONE MORE TIME... JUST ONE MORE Time...........!!!!!!!!

I love this second home a lot. I miss this second home of mine a lot. The same old fishy smell of fish fries from the canteen still tears at my entrails.
I love South Point School. The place which makes me feel like i'm reborn. !!
People say 'Charity begins at home.' I say 'Charity begins at South point.' Because its my home too.

Had this been written on a paper, it would have been damp by now.

Catch me if you can.!!

8th February, 2010.
Time- 23 hrs.
Characters- Nilava and Subhadyuti

We stepped out of the school gate after a formal photo session with the school security. It was a rather hectic day at school starting from 10 am in the morning to 10.30 at night - making circuits, establishing connections, soldering, tightening screws, sawing off pieces of wood & plastic, giving the 'Cabbage's' differential engine a fresh coat of paint etc etc..  and also sometimes wandering here and there within the school compound or going upstairs and downstairs in search of necessary items. Our stomach never wailed for food all along these hours, and so at the end of the day we were fatigued. But still we had a feeling that we were saturated with zeal and excitement and we could work more. 

Anyways, coming back to the story, me and Subho got out, and took a shortcut to the ITI bus stop- the deserted and gloomy Rustomji Lane. At the end of the bend, we saw two dogs, who were basically in the mood to mate. We brushed past those dogs, little aware that it would disturb their privacy. A split second later we sensed the dogs snarling at us and that we were pursued by them, although at a rather slow pace, but the pursuit could soon turn into a wild chase. I gestured Subho to keep the bottles (of water we carried with us) ready. Then as we approached the second bend with the dogs still growling behind, I shouted, "Cheta.", and we swilled around and splashed those two lover-dogs with out magazine of water. "Bhaag sala.!!!" , was the call from Subho, and then, for a few seconds , deleting every single thought from our minds, we made a dash for the bus-stop, a quarter kilometers  away from that point. Oh , what a run.! We ran as fast as our legs could carry us. And then as we came to halt, panting and sweating, we looked at each other and started laughing at what happened just a few moments before. 

"Sala, kuttar baccha. !! Life-ei first kuttar tara khelam.", Subho commented. 

"Nati -putider giye golpo shonash. Hehe.... Saaalaa.", I replied.

I felt pity for the poor dogs- firstly because of interrupting their private moment and secondly because of  drenching them on a wintry night. But still, it was better than being ripped apart by those canines.!!

Later, I couldnt find a trace of those dogs. I hope they found someplace in seclusion to enjoy their time together.

This is one good memory i reminisced from the dusty pages of the HISTORY OF MY DAYS OF SCHOOLING. It still makes me roll on the floor, laughing and dats why i also find the use of the web abbreviation 'ROFL' to be great invention ..!!!