A piece of my heart...

What makes an amazing school isn't shiny new benches, fully equipped labratories or great infrastructure...

It's the scope to develop into exactly who you choose to be, with all the right conditions to encourage and appreciate that person you've chosen to grow into.

At mine, we had a meagre playground, airy classrooms and the best teachers on Earth. Term after term, we battled for that half extra mark... Year after year, we stood first in the ICSE board. We begged to save the one P.T. period we got once in a couple of weeks. We won every interschool debate, (and lost every football match)... :P

From copying during mid-terms, to class punishments, we had a blast doing things that weren't even supposed to be fun.

Gitanjali is where I've met the people who've taught me the most important lessons in life... It's where I've laughed my wits out with my first real friends.

There, at the very end of that crummy lane, lies the place that's taught me to seek knowledge; my abode of happy memories. There lies my school. :)



Suddenly I remember what a couple of my friends used to call me in the 10th grade - "topperji". It was then, and again only today. Ofcourse, I was never really a 'topper', but being called that feels good, even if its actually meant to annoy you.

What happened today was nothing big at all... It was tiny; a tiny indication that maybe I still have some of 'it' left in me. Just maybe... :)

:')

I had my book out in front of me, and I was studying. A bug flew in through the open, meshless window that I was facing. It died on my book. I took a paper, swept the insect into it with another paper, and threw it outside.
^
Isolovehowimchanging.

Those of you who know me well enough, you'll know why I posted this. O:)

Wow...

There was this point where I was disconcerted by everything that'd been happening... I was coming apart like I hadn't in a pretty long time. People had said so many things... to me, about me. They'd shown outright how they didn't care. Nobody would understand.

And then there's always the problem that that wasn't what I was supposed to be doing just then. Boy, wouldn't have this been easier if it was just a battle against the world. No, it was a battle within myself, too. But there was just too much to do, and I didn't know where to start. I tried, and failed. Nobody was happy with me. I wasn't happy with myself. Nothing was working out.

I tried to distract my thoughts by scrolling down on my facebook homepage.

Something someone'd shared.

That was so right.

I scrolled a little further down.

Wow.

A little further down.

I guess I knew what I should be doing now, huh?

Was that a miracle, or what?

I'm all I need.

Sometimes people can be so illogical and unpredictable. So selfish and unbelievable.
If he wanted to let go, why did he work ever so hard to make me believe that I could lay my faith in him?
I don't need anybody else to rest my faith in. I don't need their support.
I know that no matter what happens, i'll always be the first priority to myself; and nobody will take that place. Forever and always, i'll believe in myself like nobody ever did, and that's going to make things work out for me. It doesn't matter how many people put me down or treated me like crap. There's a person in this universe who'll never leave my side. And even if it does sound a little psychotic, yeah, that's me.

Remember when...

Getting high, meant swinging in the playground.
The worst thing you can get from boys were cooties.
Ur worst enemies were your siblings.
Race issues were who ran the fastest.
War was just a card game.
The only drug you knew of was cough medicine.
& wearing skirts didn't mean you were a slut.
The only things you smoked were the tires on your bike.
The only thing that hurt were skinned knees.
& the only things that can be broken were your toys?

I remember the days when one of my friends used to ask, "Can you keep a secret?" before telling me something, and I used to say, "Can I tell my mom? I don't keep secrets from her."

... I don't want to grow up anymore.

My special spot :)

It was an evening after a very sleepy afternoon. I'd decided to get to work at five, but I fell asleep on my book instead. Again. When I got up, I decided this wasn't working anymore. I wanted to get out of the room; out of the house. I wanted air. College changed so much about me, I thought as I walked out of the front door, involuntarily walking upstairs to the terrace. I'd stopped watching; I'd stopped observing. I walked around the whole terrace stupidly once; I didn't know what to do. It was kind of breezy and cold. Better than the house all day. And then I remembered; when I was a kid, in all the books I read, the lead character always had their own special spot. The place where they could contemplate, dream, whatever. I'd always wanted one of my own, but I never really had one. But I did have my own spot! I walked around to the back, opened a door that looked undisturbed for a pretty long time, and walked up a few stairs behind, adjoining the wall. I crouched and swung myself below a railing that came up to my waist, and I was there.
Noone else ever came here. I wondered if anyone even knew this place existed. Nobody could see me unless I leaned over and explicitly showed myself to be up there. It was more breezy and cool than the rest of the terrace.
That was my place. I just hadn't thought of it like that before. There was nothing really special about it, but it just had a WHOLE lot of memories. I'd brought all my friends up here before, and I have pictures with all of them there. I remembered this one time when I came here to study, in eighth grade. I remember when I found that I could see my best friend's terrace, closeby, from here. We used to wave to eachother when I was up there. It was above the rest of the terrace, and one of the tallest things in the whole expanse of what I could see. I could see flights take off from the old airport here. I didn't know my city had as much greenery. I didn't know my apartments were so beautiful.