Posted by Jagat Jyoti Saikia In: Drawing, Nostalgia, School Days

My Juvenile Masterpiece

The din and bustle—unknown, unsure footsteps running in the stairs, the soft murmurs, the hourly ringing of bells, the voice of teachers teaching random subjects in rows after rows of classes from preschoolers to teenagers all added together to create that quintessential ambiance of my school. The hallowed portal of St. Mary’s School was a landmark in the small sleepy town of my childhood.

Every morning a steady stream of students would converge into the school from all over the neighboring places. The 9 o’clock bell brings all the students to the assembly line for the morning prayers every other day.

“Our father in heaven… Holy be thy name….. Amen

A panoramic view of the school would invariably give delectable food for thoughts for every palate- students raising hands in earnest to answer questions, recite poems by Wordsworth and Coleridge where Daffodils would follow La Belle Dame Sans Merci and Oliver Twist would still ask for more year after year. Every day one or two outstanding (standing out of the classroom kneeling down!) student were to be seen bring punished for imaginary crimes and trivial things, The Headmistress with a small book in hand walking in the corridors and having a cursory look through the window glass into the classrooms, the chrome of the cross, the white robes, the rosary beads are still etched in some corner of my mind.

The reddened betel nut stained mouth of our mathematics teacher, which would spit out such cruel combination of numbers from + to – infinity that the weak hearted ones would invariably opt for Geography to save their skins from mathematics when they reach high school. Sometimes the algebra haunts a kid like a midsummer night’s dream.

Life was not perfect then but it could not have been better either. It was an idyllic life away from the din and bustle that we are resigned to right now. The merry sound of the school bell, the rush to play games with friends even during a ten-minute break, the mirth of eating ice candies and gooseberries seasoned with salt from the poor guy who used to sit outside the school gate all added up to make a heady concoction of nostalgia.

As I look back to those golden days I recollect a few blurred memories… somewhat lost in translation but the essence remains intact. I was perhaps in Class 3 or 4 at that time.

(flashback)

Good morning Students- Mrs. Dutta greeted the class as she entered the classroom.

There was a dignified air about Ma’m Dutta and her elegant sarees accentuated that image. No wonder she received the Best Teacher Award for 2 consecutive years.

Good morning, Teacher-- the class sang in unison, the tune akin to the hallelujah often heard in the nearby Church.

I have got an announcement to make. There is a painting competition today after the attendance and a few students will be selected to represent our school in the district level competition.

The instructors from the Govt Art School will come to conduct the selection process and I would request everyone to give it your best shot!!

Everyone please respond to your roll call now… she commanded.

Roll No.1….

Present Ma’m

Roll No.2…..

Present Ma’m

Roll No. 21

- - -

Roll No. 2… Aakash!!

… Yessss Ma’m… Present Ma’m

Aakash… what are you chewing!!

Ahem… No… Nothing…. Ma’m... I ...Err

Go out and throw it in the dustbin….

She gave him a steely stare and her kohl lined eyes accentuated her anger to the n^thdegree.

Just then a man in his mid forties with salt-pepper hair and matching beard entered the class. His khadi kurta left nothing to imagination and we immediately came to know that he is the adjudicator from the Art School. He introduced himself and exchanged pleasantries with Mrs. Dutta. Ma’m then left the classroom handing over the stage to the Art teacher.

We came to know that all the students from Class 1 to Class would take part in the Art competition wherein we would have to draw anything that we like. The best ones amongst all of us would be required to draw again and the Top 5 would win prizes and represent school in the district level competition.

Everyone got busy sharpening their HB pencils, sharing erasers and arranging for pencils. And when the instructor gave us 30 mins to finish our drawing all of us allowed our imagination to run wild. Portraits, cartoons, landscapes to abstract (read as incomprehensible) drawings took shape as the seconds got converted into minutes. The Art teacher came to each and every desk to inspect the drawings. Just them Ma’m came to check for herself.

Oblivious to us was the fact that in each of the other classes similar bonded lead strokes were taking shape in varying degrees of imagination. As the allotted time got over we submitted our drawings and during the ensuing 10 mins break this was the hot topic of discussion.

A dinosaur; a doll, dream house, Mickey Mouse, a scenery, a bunch of roses… it was an eclectic mixture charged with childhood imagination.

My effort came out in the shape of a scenery (landscape) with cloud capped hills, sunrise, with a stream flowing from deep inside the hill to the wooden cottage, a flower garden, a TV antenna, a chimney atop the cottage with smoke bellowing from it and early morning bird flying in the sky. And right in front of the cottage was a small kid with a balloon in his hand smiling gleefully!!

The results were declared and some 30 odd students from all the classes were selected for the next round. I was visibly excited and when they read out the entire list I found Ma’m Dutta giving me a set of HB pencils and an art paper for the next round!!

‘Congrats Jagat!! And do well in the next round”
She whispered to me with a glint in her eyes. I nodded with an impish grin and started to sharpen one of the pencils almost instinctively.

All the selected students were then shifted to a new classroom for the grand finale... and we were given 45 minutes to give shape to our masterpieces.The tension was palpable and sweaty palms made gripping the pencils harder. The stakes got higher and we engrossed ourselves with zest and pseudo intellectualism!!

After the time got over… and the sheets were collected we all went back to our respective classrooms for the lunch break. The Art teacher told us that the results will be declared a few minutes after lunch.

The Headmistress, Ma’m Dutta and the Art teacher entered the classroom a few minutes after the lunch break. They carried the selected drawings and the list of the winners in a sheet of paper. Without much hope I waited for the results… just like everyone else.

The winning names started rolling out with thunderous claps from the whole class and 5 students got selected, one each from Class 1 to Class 5.

My name wasn’t there… and my heart skipped a beat or two.

What followed next was something from an unknown realm… something that remained an eternal mystery because no amount of logic lends credo to its occurrence.

Ma’m called me outside the classroom afterwards… and visibly dejected I went out to meet her. She had something in her hand which turned out to be my drawing.

She held it out and asked me “What on Earth is this?”

I saw the drawing and fumbled for words… cold sweat beads started to form on my forehead to add to the effect and expand my misery.

Madam’s face was a convoluted mixture of emotions… and my confused self couldn’t decipher it at that moment.

It’s a glass tumbler Ma’m- I meekly answered; praying inwardly to God to make me disappear from the face of the Earth for coming up with such a drawing.

A glass tumbler it is for sure… and a perfect one at that!! But why a glass tumbler for a drawing competition?!! Ma’m smiled and placed her hands on my slim shoulders and reassured me that the world isn’t ending!!

I still don’t know how and when my juvenile phantasmagoria took the shape of a glass tumbler. I never quite knew why I decided to draw a tumbler….and that too a glass tumbler….