Last piece for the AVE

VOICE OVER

 

(Back in School, we would run a weekly entitled the AVE- Assam Valley Express. I served as Deputy Editor of the weekly in my final year at school and this was my last piece for the AVE)





The Assam Valley School

 

This is your last piece; this is something that people will remember you by, if not by any of your other articles. It had better be good!” I was reminded by the Head of Publications while binging on porridge at breakfast.

Unmindful of the curt reminder, the first thing that flashed like a klieg light in my mind was to get the girls lined up for Assembly. Nonetheless, the editorial, though pushed a little deeper into a nook, still managed to make its presence felt. On my way to the WMH, with a bevy of girls behind me for Assembly,I was taken back in time.

I was reading in the ninth grade when my father received a copy of the Assam Valley Express. I can still recall my father’s expression as he cast his eye over the names of the editors and correspondents. I distinctly remember every word that he had said, laced with dismay, “Why are you not in this team?”

And today, I am proud to serve as an editor of the Assam Valley Express. Indeed, time does fly. Moreover, until this year, I had only read other editorials; to find that it is now time for me to string words together to write my own editorial is indeed a bit strange. Questions and confusions regarding what to mention in the editorial crowd my mind. Numerous thoughts, lessons learnt at school, and bittersweet memories take away some clarity from my retrospection. During class, I tried to come up with a few opening lines: “As I now leave the iron gates…” was not what I intended to write. Firstly I needed to be sure that I felt and meant what I had to say.

The best classmates ever-12 Commerce

 This editorial could not possibly be a panegyric where I will blatantly lie and write sugar-coated paragraphs thanking people who made no difference in my life. I tell myself, I shall give my pen freedom to leave its own trail. My pen’s task is that of an interpreter – to convey to you my thoughts.

Instances of my first year at The Assam Valley School are embedded in my mind like the sepia strips of an old movie. Nostalgia sits upon me like the twilight that descends upon the eastern skies and I remember that I had a single purpose, an oft-avowed one: to make something out of myself.

Sending away a child was not a very palatable thought for my parents but I would not be discouraged. Even till my second year at The Assam Valley School I was not very sure if this was the school that I wanted to be in. Everything seemed larger than life and horribly intimidating to a child in the Middle School. But today, I feel proud of spending eight years in this very school.

Friends I will cherish for a lifetime

What kept me going was an urge to stand up in a crowd, to be noticed, to have an opinion and to be able to articulate it, and this urge till this moment is still alive. Six years of school life passed in a blur, setting and achieving targets and then House Captainship happened– another indelible page in the chapter of my life. Leading sixty-two girls taught me significant life lessons, those that I will always draw upon. It gave me an immense satisfaction to know that I was, in some part, responsible for shaping a shade of their personality. The power that I held as a pupil leader also filled me with a tremendous sense of responsibility.

 The girls looked upon me for direction and support, so, endeavouring to become a role model occupied much of my time. During moments of despondency when I struggle in the world outside, when I struggle to find one friendly face in a sea of strangers, the memory of those moments spent in the first floor of the Kopili-Subansiri Hostel will fill my heart with warmth.

 I admit with candidness that throughout school-life I have made mistakes galore. Sometimes, I chose the wrong friends; most of the time I jumped to conclusions, leapt at opinion forming, and fell upon bias and prejudices with great enthusiasm. I found myself forming the wrong opinions about the right people. I failed to reciprocate ‘genuine’ care. The memories of the times when I spoke out of turn at the wrong forums make me embarrassed. I made another mistake: I did not realize that truth not only has many shades but is a rather subjective term. Diplomacy is a skill that needs to be cultivated and is an important life skill in today’s world.

 It is not the mistakes that I made but the fact that I learnt from each of them. Indeed, they served as good ‘life-lesson’ teachers. At this point in time, I genuinely thank those who corrected me. Had it not been for them, my growth as an individual would have remained stunted. Of course, one must know how to differentiate between those who correct out of sheer concern and those who do it out of spite. Criticism that builds you up and that which makes you lose your sense of self: one has to be able to discern between the two.

I must also admit that I was provided with a lot of opportunities –some that I made judicious use of, while others that I did not capitalize on. There were times when I got sufficient appreciation and encouragement, and there were times when many (who speak off their hat) made baseless remarks and assumptions about me. Considering their expertise in this art, I gave in. There were phases of the highs and the lows; the achievements and the failures; both of which were significant in shaping the person that I am today.



I am not quite sure if I can quantify what I will feel when I leave The Assam Valley School forever. However, I am sure that I will feel a void – a painful one – which can never be filled or compensated for. For all it was worth, the seven heady years at The Assam Valley School has gotten under my skin: it has made me weep bitter tears, it has made me break out in laughter, it has brought me profound pain and uncontrollable mirth.

It is a part of me now and forever, whether I may like it or not.





School brings back some wonderful
 memories