My bestest friend in the whole world sent this to me on whatsapp last week.
She is a few hours ahead of me in time and so I read this when I had barely surfaced during the wee hours of my Eastern US Time. But I went back to it later and laughed uncontrollably.
If I had a dollar for the number of times we snickered unnecessarily in school, I’d have a dog rescue of my own by now, and it wouldn’t need donations. Ofcourse, no laughter is unnecessary. All laughter is good, always laugh with an open heart I say, but you know when your teacher’s trying to tell you something respectable about the Quit India Movement, or something serious, really, then put a lid on the snickering. Or don’t, if you’re me, or her. Little secret, she found Lord Curzon cute, in 8th grade. I deemed the whole observation unholy 😉 But still, we snickered.
“Truman, was a very nice man”, was something that was ok to write in your class test when asked “What was the Truman Doctrine?”. And we snickered.
There was also the pointless application of Lakme body lotion due to the sudden, unexpected bout of dryness that always, accompanied every Marathi lesson, specially if there was a new kind of Lakme on the shelves. We were deemed shameless, and soul-less, and irreligious, and hence hopeless. And we snickered.
When made to stand outside with the classroom door shut, during Marathi, because we were distracting even when punished, we snickered. To take things to a whole new level, three out of the four punished, conspired against the fourth to send her flying through the closed door, to create some sort of unnecessary, explosive, distraction from the main plot of the Marathi story that the good children were taking in; and when she flew thew the door, we snickered. (Don’t worry the door didn’t shut fully, so it didn’t hurt.)
It was also imperative to introduce our 8th grade Math teacher to the tunes of “Salmon Khan”, by running up to her and shoving an old audio cassette in her face, hoping for a small increase in the next test’s grade. Ofcourse, we snickered!
Then again, it was not abnormal, to stand up and dance to Ricky Martin’s Cup of Life that was playing in your head (“alay, alay, alay!!”) when said math teacher turned around to write on the board, and we snickered; and she turned back around because she caught sight of our very unstill shadows on the blackboard amongst geometrical shapes, and we rapidly took to our seats, and we snickered.
To expect a herd of 50 teenage girls to stop chatting, and snickering, just by your mere presence at the classroom door, is the definition of expecting too much from life. But yet they tried, they all tried, and we snickered.
Some tried harder than others, they used their words, “I am i-standing here, and i-still you are talking?”; and we were silenced, but in that silence, we snickered.
The same teacher once rescued a cat, hid it in her saree, and brought it to class (my grown up self loves her even more). We were good to the cat, but we were also thirteen, and the thought of a grown woman, our teacher sneaking in an “i-scared, hissing” cat, was incomprehensible, and we snickered.
As lead singers during 10th grade’s assembly, every effort was made to start the day’s hymn the wrong note, and every effort was made, not to snicker. The 8th graders watched us as we mis-sang the hymn, they grinned, but we didn’t snicker. It got so uncontrollable that one of us needed to walk out, to snicker.
Most of us “i-still” laugh with open hearts, but every laugh is a little stifled, unlike those unnecessary snickers. She said it so well when she said, “Fatts, I am not even trying to be an adult, but it is happening. Adult things are happening.”.
My best friend, my heart, I understand so well. But I know you are still childlike, and I am too. Just remember, to always .. snicker 😉