Classes began today after a long summer break.
Unlike every
other reopening day, Maulik and Aarav didn't disappear into their favourite
corner of the classroom. They marched straight to the centre, dropped their
bags dramatically on the desk and wished me.
Suddenly Aarav
popped up- "Ma'am, you read a lot. Have you ever read Friedrich
Nietzsche?"
"Not
really," I replied. "That's not my stuff in fact."
Before I could
complete my sentence, another book appeared.
The Antichrist.
And just like
that, the conversation took a sharp turn—from summer holidays to Nietzsche,
then to Hitler, philosophy, ideology and history.
Trying to poke a
hole in his argument, I casually remarked, "I don't agree with people who
have no emotions for others."
"Oh no,
Ma'am!" His volume instantly doubled. "He had emotions. Very fine
emotions!"
What followed was
a passionate defence, point after point, with all the confidence only a Class
IX student can possess. I listened patiently before steering the discussion
towards the Holocaust and its devastating consequences.
Then came the
next missile.
"Who's your
favourite politician?"
"I am least
interested in politics or politicians."
"But Ma'am,
people like you should have a strong political stand."
Before I could
escape….
"Where do
you cast your vote? Here or Kerala?"
"Which
political party do you support?"
One question
after another came flying like rapid-fire bullets.
Meanwhile, from
the other side of the classroom, my girls stood peeping at us. Usually,
mornings belong to them. They gather around my table with stories, giggles and
updates from their lives. Today, the boys had hijacked the morning assembly inside
the classroom.
I couldn't help
smiling.
Class IX students
discussing Friedrich Nietzsche, Hitler, political ideologies and insisting that
I should have a stronger political opinion. Of course, I, too, have a lot more
growing to do.
As my eyes
wandered around the class, another smile escaped me. Most of the boys had
actually come in proper uniform. Hair neatly trimmed. Shirts tucked in.
Miracles do happen after summer vacations!
Just then, like
every good movie needs its hero's dramatic entry, Darshil walked in.
Same glorious,
gravity-defying hairstyle. Same confident grin.
Before I could
even raise an eyebrow, he smiled and declared,
"Don't scold
me, Ma'am. No change. I'm still a bad boy."
I burst into
laughter.
Just then the
prayer bell rang.
The prayer bell
saved me from answering which political party I support. Divine intervention,
perhaps!
We all stood up
for prayer. They closed their books. I closed the debate.
As the prayer
echoed through the corridors, I looked once more at the faces before me. They
had returned a little taller, a little louder, a little wiser.
Summer hadn't
merely given them a vacation; it had given them questions. And perhaps that is
where education truly begins—not in having all the answers, but in learning how
to ask better questions.
The first day had
already given me enough material for an entire chapter.
Welcome back,
Class IX C.
Jessy James
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