Sunday, 30 November 2014


                                       MY EXPECTATIONS
                                                   Stories of my school days........

                                                 By   Birister Sharma


Your parent’s expectations are high for you.

You, too, have high ambitions and aspirations.

You’ve firm believed that the goddess of success always smile for you.

You’ve never seen the dark glimpses of failure in your life.

However, when your hard work and luck didn’t confluence in your favour.

And your expectations met with disappointments.

What would you do?

Exactly, the same fate was happened with Vicky, who was a topper in his class. He was excellent in every field. He never witnessed any failure in his life.

Can he face the first failure in his life?

‘My expectations’ unfolds the real meaning of life- that success and failure is a part of everybody’s life. And everybody should accept it with a bright smile.

Extract from the novel:

                               Stories of my school days........




I still remembered the day when both my father and mother escorted me to the Nursery class. They held my little fingers with their big fingers tightly, holding my tiny Mantona bag and Mickey Mouse water bottle. They seated me on the bench along with other children and told me not to cry and not to shout in the classroom. “Vicky, beta, don't cry, haa. My good boy,” Mother said sweetly and kissed me on my soft cheeks.

When every little child started raucous crying, 'Maa...Maa..Maa....'I was very surprised and confused, and I started thinking, ”Why are they crying?” They were sucking their fingers, leaking mucus, oozing spits, coughing and pissing. Their pinkish cheeks were wetted with the drops of tears. I stood astonished while watching their shrieked lusty screaming, jumping and scrapping towards their leaving parents. It was just like that they were being sent in the terrible world where witches, ogress and ghosts were dwelt, waiting for them to plunge and to gulp.

When their mothers left them; they wept very terribly, even they didn’t listen the loving words and cajoling of anyone. Some children were gone mad and fell down in giddiness. The helpless poor mothers tried their every possible means to cool down them, but in vain. “No...beta, O-O....Don’t cry!” the worried mother tried to convince their little ones. “Your teacher will give you a lot of sweet lollypops, candies, biscuits and toys......My sweet beta. NO-NO.....Nahi Rote(No cry)...sit! sit!.....I’ll be waiting there, haa,” pointing to the school verandah. The whole classroom was echoed with the horrible commotions of children. Somehow the goddess like teachers controlled these stubborn children. They coddled every little kid with tenderly and pampered. Really, they acted as the second motherhood.

When my parents witnessed these crowds of weeping and deserted children, they turned back to me in order to have a final word with me. They too frightened to leave me alone in the world of clamour. “Vicky, beta, Don’t cry haa!” mother said lovingly. “You’re my sweet beta.” She kissed me on my pink cheek, and I just nodded in response to her. But a little drops of pearl like tears shined from my iris and trickled down.



It was in the year 1989:

It was Monday, the first week of April, 6th,1989, and the lovely season of efflorescent spring .Everywhere only the spreading carpets of beautiful blossoming flowers, and its aromatic serenity enriched the soul of every living being .The day was really glorious .The sky was clean ;there was not a single line of cloud in the above ;everywhere blue and blue as the painter of this world had painted with only blue colors .The Cattle were already resuming their way into the green pastures ;the birds were composing their new musical chorus ,sitting on the top most branches of trees ;the colorful roses, sunflowers, lilies, daisies, poppies, and jasmines were blooming everywhere ,diffusing their aromatic fragrance with the blowing breeze ;and the yellowish-reddish butterflies were hovering from one flower to another flower. The whole environment was in full swing; really the weather was awesome and marvelous.

I was accompanied with my parents to face my first interview. The time of my interview was at 10:30 am in the morning. When I reached along with my parents in the school campus, there were already many boys and girls of my age, present along with their parents. Some of them were familiar faces and some were unfamiliar. They were eagerly waiting for their interview calls.

I scanned the whole school very ardently and tentatively. The school was very big, the Assam type house; had cone-shaped corrugated roof made of asbestos. The whole school campus was laden with eucalyptus trees, pine trees, mango trees and jackfruit trees. The school verandah was decorated with beautiful flowering pots, it seems like the garden of schools. And the school boundary was surrounded by the huge concrete walls. I liked the school very much. “Wow! This will be my new school,” I thought pleasantly. I smiled in my heart. I was well prepared for my interview. I knew General Science, Arithmetic, English, G.K., Hindi and Nursery rhymes. At that early age, I didn’t know –what is nervousness, what is confidence and what is failure. Before my turn, mother tried to revise me once more whatever I had learnt at home. “What is.....,” mother tried to put me a question. “ Maa....I know everything.” I protested her. Because I was very confident. On the other hand father was as usual reserved person. He only patted on my back. Father gesticulated to mother not to bother me anymore by revising again. Mother only passed a gentle smile to me then. She rechecked my dresses, brushed my ruffled hair, tighten my open shirt buttons, bind my loose neck-tied and cleansed my shirt sleeve and brushed my shoes with her handkerchief.

Mother felt a bit nervous while seeing the other boys and girls, who were returning with castaway eyes, fainted smiles, gloomy faces and bleary sweating postures after their interviews.

On that day, I was readied and prepared to attend my first interview of my life to get admission in the first standard in K.V.D. ( Kendriya Vidyalaya Diphu) I was tidy and smart. I had already left the world of kindergarten. But still the Nursery rhymes were echoed in my very core of heart……..

                                             Johnny, Johnny, 
                                        Yes, Papa, 
                                                   Eating sugar? 
                                        No, Papa 
                                                    Telling lies? 
                                        No, Papa 
                                               Open your mouth 
                                      O Ha! Ha! Ha!
                                  Baa, baa black sheep
                                   Have you any wool
                                     Yes sir, yes sir
                                     Three bags full.

                                   One for my master
                                 And one for my dame
                               And one for the little boy
                               Who lives down the lane

          Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are?
            Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky

My interview started:

At 10:30 am in the morning:

“Next, Vicky Sharma.” My name was called out.
“Vicky, go haa...Don't feel nervous! Whatever they will ask you, give the correct answer, haa...Best of luck!” said mother with her tensed and loving words. I only replied with my nodded head. “Hmm.” And father patted me on my back to build confident.

I entered in the principal's room.
“May I come in, sir,” I asked permission with confident voice.
“Yes, please,” the hoarse male voice responded.
Then only I felt my pulsating heart. For the first time I heard such a voice. At that time, it didn't take too long time for me to know the hoarse male voice and moustache man.
“Haa, he is principal,” I reflected.
“Very good morning, sirs and madams,” I greeted them with my innocent smile as my mother taught me at home.
“Yes, very good morning to you too,” they responded in unison.
“Have a sit!”
“Thank you,” I said. Then I took my seat.

There were two beautiful ladies in the principal’s room, who were sitting .One was as old as my mother and the other was young maiden, and a bright and smart looking young man who was wearing spectacles, also present in the room. The moustache man was seated on his cabin arm-chair.                                                                         “These two ladies might be female teachers, and this young man might be male teacher,” I thought.

“What's your father's name?” the moustache man put me the first question.
“My father's name is Mr. Gopal Prasad Sharma,” I answered as my mother taught me at home.
The second question was from the young maiden lady. “Do you know mathematics table?”
“Yes, miss,” I replied politely.
“Recite!” She said.
“Two-One equal to two, Two-Two equal to four.............” I recited so on and forth.
Then she asked me to solve Mathematical sums and subtractions, which I solved correctly. She exclaimed, “Good, Very Good!”
The third question was from the young man.
“Name any ten wild animals.”
“Lion, tiger, fox, jackal......” I answered within a single breathe, giving all the name of animal kingdom.
Finally, he stopped me. “O.K...O.K. Very good. Take a break!”
The forth question was being asked by the old lady. “Do you know Hindi?”
I just nodded.
“O.K. Write down your name in Hindi letters,” She asked me.
I wrote down my name in Hindi letters with neat and clean handwriting. She was very impressed with me.
“Good, very good!” she smiled.
And the final question was again from the young maiden.
“Vicky, can you sing a song?” She asked me so sweetly and lovingly that touched my little heart.
“Yes, miss,” I coldly replied.
Then sing.
But, I was little puzzled, because I knew only English rhymes which I learnt in my Nursery classes, and I didn't know any song completely.
“M-Miss...I don't remember any song right now,” I replied hesitatingly. “But, I-I can recite English rhyme.”
“O.K. Then you recite any rhyme,” the young maiden smiled.
“Twinkle -Twinkle little star...........How I wonder.........,”I recited very fluently and with good tune.
In the end, the moustache man said, ”O.K. Vicky, very good. Now you can go.”
“Thank you, sirs and madams,” I silently obliged with gratitude.
In response, they all passed me a gentle and satisfactory smile.
I returned after having half and hour interview both-oral and written.

There was a huge grin and sheer smiles on my face. When both my parents viewed my happy mood, there were genial looked and rapture on their faces too. Mother inquired me again and again-what did they ask, how I wrote, how did I reply and so and so.

I returned home along with my parents with exaltation and smiling mood. They were very pleased with me.

After a week, the result of my interview was declared. And I was declared as the successful student. Soon I got admission in 'KENDRIYA VIDYALAYA DIPHU.' ( Diphu is small town in the hill district of Karbi Anglong in Assam).

In the third week of April, 26th,1989, I joined my first class in the school, that day was again Monday. I was very happy and excited. I had left the world of Kindergarten already, and left some of my kiddy friends there. But my best kiddy friends, Pranjit ,Shantanu and Manu, were also joined with me in the same class. They were my kiddy classmates. We were together in the new school once again. We all sat on the same bench; played together; and dined together in the same class.
For me, nothing was new in the class, because I met my closed buddies.
In this way how I started my school days.


In class two to class seventh:

Everyday our classroom became like a dirty tumultuous playground when there was no teacher in the class. If there was a micro second delay of teacher to come in our class, all boys and girls started shouting, jumping and playing as the trapped fowls in a cage. 'HEY!...HEY!...HOO!.. HOO!.. HEE!..HEE!...HAA!..HAAA!.......'

Some hurled the pieces of chalk; some played catch-catch with the sponge duster; some wrote zigzag doodling and scribing caricatures of teacher and fellow mates on the blackboard; some made a catapult with a rubber band and volleying the pieces of pebble; some flew the paper planes with the swinging ceiling fan; some played table tennis on the table with a ping-pong ball; some played cricket; some played judo-karate kicks, 'Hoo..Haa'; and some played hide and seek chasing each other from one corner to another corner.

The whole classroom was filled with the hell of noises like the buzzing bumble bees, hovering hither and thither; some were rotating and rolling text books and copies on their own index fingers as the revolving disc. Everywhere only shouting and raucous laughter,


Noises of humming, buzzing, thundering and chuckling echoed the whole classroom. One and all were young witty monkeys; limping frogs; fighting cats and dogs, chasing cat and rat like Tom and Jerry; fluttering flies, sitting here and there. All were the birds of same feathers, expert in uproars, even crossing the limits of all mischievous acts of the world. At that period of time, one who was not busy with the games; one couldn't bear to stay inside the classroom; one would definitely going to be mad. The whole classroom was turned into higgledy-piggledy. So much of deafening noises from one single classroom. Nobody could ever imagine that.

The total strength of students in our class was only seventy-five including boys and girls. Forty-five boys and thirty girls. The most strange thing in our classroom was our girl students; they had never been felt any effect from the hurly-burly of boys. All were the flock of geese, sheep and birds; they were either talking with each other or studying by their own, but there were no signs of irritations and agitations from their side; they were busy in their own world, and cooed among themselves. I had never seen them in plugging their ears in embarrassment. It was very surprising thing of our class.

Our classroom was always remained in the crowd of din, and the whole school knew about our wild commotion. Even some teacher scared to enter in our classroom, accept our subject teachers. Our class students were very genius and talented in the whole school. When one would put what question, nobody could expect. And if in any case, answers were not up to the mark, then get the shameful criticisms. All students were ever ready to reply wisecrack. Everybody had a habit of pulling the teacher’s leg. Nobody could beat us. In both academic and co-curricular activities, all students of our class stood in the top most position. And of course in the mischievous antics too.

Everyday in our classroom whether boy or girl, all showed riotous merriment, enjoyment and kidding with each other. It was like the regular routine of our class that everyday one girl or two boys got punishment-kneeling down in cock pose, holding ears and standing on one leg. But there were no signs of whine in anyone’s face. Punishments were for -bulling, pinching, slapping and loggerheads.

Our whole classroom was filled with the untamed animals. Everyday new games and new punishments. Even though there was no improvement. The whole school was fade-up with us. There was no discipline in our classroom. And when there was no teacher, everybody got the full liberation to do anything-we did whatever we wished or desired, as we were living in our free world.

Everyday our class teacher gave us very rigorous punishment-skinned us with a cane; we had been sent out to clean weed grasses of the whole school campus, parading the whole compound, and then to stood outside under the torrid Sun, which was very tough and painful. We all felt tired and exhausted while standing continuously for three hours. We felt thirsty and hungry. The whole body cauterized, boiled and gushing out sweats. When we asked for pardon, but for us no excuse. Even we all promised not to repeat the same err, but in vein. As a matter of fact, for us promises are not to keep but to forget and to break. Everybody stood disappointed with anger. ‘GROAN!...GROAN!..' Even these tough and tight punishments couldn't bring any improvement in our attitudes. Everyday we met the same nemesis for our mischievous acts. We held our mouths, tongues, hands and legs only for two or three days. And after few days, we all  wild tricky monkey resumed our antic actions as usual.



Sometime our whole classroom turned into the world of music like the song and dance competition or The Antakshari competition. We had a great orchestra.

The girls started singing jaggy sweet and melodious songs liked they were stage choirs. While the boys started composing music. We sang solo and chorus songs. The music was not the original musical instruments. The benches were used as our drums and tablas, the Tiffin boxes and the spoons were our bells, the flute was created by whistling, and the other sounds were created by clapping hands. And our dancing crazy boys started moving their feet, swinging and squirming their bodies like the Rock dancer or the Pop singer. These were our new creation of gamut. The whole classroom was echoed with the medley of commotion. Even we left behind the crowd of fish markets and the big bazaars. One could only hear the crescendo of music.

The student of other classes felt very irritated and embarrassed with our childish and funny activities. But we didn't heed anybody. And nobody dare to querulous anything about us, because everybody knew the strength of our gang and wanton natures. So nobody ever dare to come to face us. For us-where there is unity there is strength and we all maintained our unity of strength. And we all lost in our own world of music. 'LAA...LAA...LAA...HU...HU...HU...HAI...HAI...HAI....'



 When the school gong was about to clang, all boys and girls were rushing out pell-bell as the storage water gushing out through the sudden broken holes or like the herb of animals making hubbubs-knocking and hitting each other. 'HEY!...HEY!...HEY!...HOO!...HOO!...HOO!...TIFFIN!...TIFFIN!....'

Everybody finished own Tiffin as soon as possible and hurtle into the playground, challenging with each other in the race. ONE-TWO-THREEEE........Our Tiffin period break was only forty minutes, so within forty minutes we had to complete our decided cricket matches and football matches. Nobody had enough time to eat slowly and sluggishly. Everything was finished in a hurry and in quick succession.

Whether it was burning hot sunny day or wetted rainy day, but for us no matter, because we only know our game, and infallibly we played our matches in both frying and thundering weather.

We recited the Nursery rhyme in unison-

                                           Rain rain go away,
                                        Come again another day.
                                       Little Johnny wants to play;
                                          Rain, rain, go to Spain,
                                     Never show your face again!

When there was slight showering of rainfall, then we played riotous football match-dribbling, falling and sliding on the muddy ground; and when there was heavy rainfall, then we played indoor games like, carom board, chess, ludoo and skipping. At that period of time, our whole classroom was filled with the sound pollution-buzzing and humming mingled with the sounds of pattering rain drops. But, if it would be the question of game - No compromise, only GAME! GAME!

During our game period, not a single boy or a single girl of our class remained inside the classroom. All went into the playground to play the match and to watch. At that time, the door of our classroom was completely shut-down. The boys played cricket, football and volleyball, and the girls played kabaddi, kho-kho and skipping. But nobody stayed idle or silent spectator. Everybody took their part. It was the rule of our class to join in every event of our game.

Our motto was -        KHELOGE  KUDUGE  BANOGE  NAWAB

                                 PADOGE  LIKHOGE  BANOGE  BEWAKUF


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