Nearer To The End

Nearer to the End

A little boy walked through the gates of the primary section of St. Xavier’s Collegiate School and stepped onto the gray concrete floor, for the first time. His oily, jet-black hair carefully parted. A few strands of hair at the back of his head stood erect much like the antennas of a black and white television. His large eyes wide open, as he futilely tried to measure up the crowd of people who had congregated there. His white, spotless shirt tucked into his gray shorts. His brand new black-shoes didn’t have even a speck of dirt. His socks pulled up to his knees. On his face, there was a expression of fear, awe and excitement -- That is exactly how I looked on my first day at school.

These thoughts occur very often whenever I take a walk down the boulevard of my memories, and so do some of my funny incidents—

One day, I felt really hungry and wanted to have something from the canteen. I didn’t know then, the difference between a paisa and a rupee and thought both were the same. So, I gave a five paisa coin to the ‘canteen-Walla’ and asked for a packet of Lays. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised; his forehead knit into dense network of wrinkles and returned the coin and patiently said that it cost ten rupees. Then, I took out a ten paisa coin and pushed it towards the ‘canteen-Walla’. This time he showed no sign of patience and threw the coin back at me without saying anything. Then, I gave both the five and the ten paisa coins. He took them irritably muttering under his breath, shoved a toffee(which would have cost fifty paisa)at me and told me to get lost. I went away relishing the toffee, without realizing what I had done, until a few months later when understood the difference between a paisa and a rupee.

Incidents like these are clearly etched on my mind, like a photograph. Time flies so fast that even before you can realize a moment, it is gone. It seems almost yesterday when the little boy walked through the gates… I am at the threshold of finishing school. A year later it will be my turn to leave school; to step into a world, where neither my parents nor my teachers will shield me. I will be stepping out of the gates of the secondary section of St. Xavier’s Collegiate School, for the last time, onto the pitch black asphalt road.