If I recall correctly (note my perfect memory and my egoistic statements), I joined The Hindu Senior Secondary School after writing (and acing) the entrance examination, and my first day was the 4th of April.

I showed up at school unusually early, at around 8, and walked into the designated classroom (all new students to 9-B). I was hoping to make a spectacular entrance, maybe click my heels, that sort of thing, but, in doing so I tripped on the slight elevation of the platform, and stumbled into class. So much for spectacular entrances.

Straightening my glasses, I looked around, and saw a few people in class, mostly talking in Tamil.

Of course, it came subconsciously to me. I went straight to the first bench and sat there, as I had been sitting in my previous school.

Within half an hour, I had found out that the geniuses of the class were sitting next to me, the Satan-spawn of the class (teacher-talk) in the back corner, and the “oh-I’m-good-at-studies-but-got -other-stuff-to do” types were grouped up in the middle.

My first day started off with introductions, like any other school, and my class teacher taught economics to the 9th and 10th graders.

I feel that my readers have enough of school as it is, and so, I am willing to skip over to the highlight of my first day.

It was just before I sat down for lunch. I had picked up my lunch bag, when there was this one guy who grabbed my lunch, and refused to let go. I had realised right then that he and I wouldn’t really be on fantastic terms, and so, with all my strength, my free hand went for his face, and let’s just say that the screen went black.

Yeah, I proved to everyone that I was a mad, violent, delinquent on my first day.

As for the boy I hit, let’s just say that I very sincerely believe in the saying “keep your friends close, and your enemies closer”.


The second part of this tale of whoa (not woe, mind) is 9-A. After a few days, I was transferred to 9-A. In Hindi, it was Safar, in English…well… I’m pretty sure it wasn’t suffer.

It was probably a class made up of the dumbest, bravest, smartest and weirdest, and most talented people. We were all the best of friends.

We had the best assortment of teachers, one of the best being our class teacher and our Hindi teacher.

In June came the prefect elections, where two boys contested for the position of boy prefect. The winner had 83 votes, from a class of 42 students. Yet, the teacher decided to call it a draw, and prepared a lucky draw, and the boy with 83 votes won.

There were a few complaints along the way though… for example, we created a huge ruckus when we realized that we had P.T. on Saturdays, and almost all Saturdays were lost in some holiday or other.

Aside from complaints, we did have a lot of fun over the due course of time, and I guess it was a lot of fun.


9th standard was definitely a year to remember and savor.

After all, it was the year I started blogging.

 Then came Rishi V, with his blog right here👇👇.

(P.S. Look out for part 2, which’ll be coming soon)

(P.P.S. More on Rishi V…later)


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