Nostalgia

“Students, quickly keep your lunch boxes in your bags and get ready for the Independence Day practice,” our subject teacher of the fifth period said. Under the steaming rays we stood, at ease, in the ground, waiting for our teachers’ next instructions.

“Attention!”,came the next instruction. Children, now we’ll practice the National Anthem with the music and then, after saluting the Flag, you’ll hear a drum beat at which you have to stand at ease. Then, after the Chief Guest has delivered his/her speech, we’ll clap. Practice the claps. Then we’ll finish by sing Saare Jahan se Accha”, the roadmap of the function was told to the students, who, as obedient as they could be, followed them. After 5-6 rounds, we were told to disperse.

The real feel of the celebration was when you reached class 11. It was when you got the ticket to witness the dance performances amongst others in The Hall. It was the biggest of the many reasons we wanted to grow fast. The chilling atmosphere in contrast to the warm one outside and to enjoy the staging without getting tired, yes, we were selfish and mean. Guess that’s natural. Little bit of selfishness and meanness.

The day of the event came. Chief Guest arrived. Flag hoisted. The Flag saluted. The National Anthem sung. Speech of the Chief Guest delivered. The perfect rhythmic claps clapped. The Chief Guest, the Principle and the Vice-Principle, the teacher’s and the lucky batch of 11th and 12th went up in the hall, while the rest, went to the gates to find eagerly waiting parents or auto/rickshaw/van/bus/trolley drivers to take them home. That’s when it really felt like Independence Day.