Familar Strangers

(24th July, Day 43 of 112)

I met up with some school friends last night, most of whom I hadn’t met in nearly 10 years. Unsure of what to expect at the beginning, I came away from dinner smiling and nostalgic.

Even though it had been a long time since we’d last known/met each other (and really, how much do you really know about people when in school) yesterday did not have any of the discomfort or awkwardness attached to meeting almost strangers. I guess this was because we spent our formative years together, battling the worst years of our lives together – adolescence.

Last night made me very sure of one thing – being in school together redefines friendships and relationships. It doesn’t matter how well you knew each other in school or how many friendship bands you exchanged. The fact that you walked the same corridors and suffered the wrath and eccentricities of the same teachers creates a bond like no other. Of course it helps that any awkward silence can be overcome (very successfully at that) by asking “so who else are you in touch with?” or “so what is XYZ person up to these days?” These are guaranteed ice-breakers which will ensure lots of gossip (the fun and well-intentioned kind I think), laughter and reminiscing.

Conversation is generally never lacking when old friends meet up. There is too much to talk about – teachers we liked (or actually disliked), punishments we were put through, classmates that we all remembered (some fondly, some, well…, quirky experiences we had with each other (and remembered for no apparent reason) etc. Then there is also the catching up to do – ten years worth of it actually. And though one may gloss over the boring bits, the success stories and happy parts make it to dinner.

Ten years is a long time. Last night made this abundantly clear. I mean, ten years back we were a bunch of bratty, snooty, lazy, smart alecy, and pretty much your run of the mill youngsters (oh and we were also the despair of our teachers and parents. But that’s a given).

Yesterday we were an architect, a taxation lawyer, a dance guru, a designer, a television producer/director and a psychologist turned writer.

Ten years back we were classmates, housemates, teammates. Yesterday we were familiar strangers. It felt good.

Something Old, Something New

(12th July, Day 31 of 112)

I had my first game of poker today. From knowing only the spelling of this extremely popular card game to being able to hold my own quite well in the midst of experienced players, I’ve come pretty far in the last 5 hours or so. This makes me happy. I tried something new and I didn’t suck!

What made the whole poker experience more fun (and not as distressing or embarrassing as I thought it might be) was the fact that I was amongst old friends, some of whom I’ve known since we were 6 yrs old. And so the cards and chips were just so much friendlier with inside jokes, gossip that’s been doing the rounds since we were in school, new gossip that no one else who wasn’t in school with us would be bothered with, and just the knowledge that we’ve quite literally known each other forever and so losing – badly at that – at a poker game, wasn’t quite so terrible as it could have been.

And so something new and something old together made for one of the more fun and laughter filled evenings I’ve had in a long time. Cheers to that. And all the fake money I made!

Change

(Day 22 of 112)

(Warning: Long Post)

I was never a very good student. Mostly because I couldn’t be bothered to try. My mother of course developed hypertension by the time I got to class 10. I blame my teachers. They would keep telling her I could do better if only I wanted to. At 15 I didn’t want to.

Somewhere between then and now I changed. Along the way I tried because I wanted to. And my reward was success. But what has been more rewarding is the pride I see in those who knew me as a bratty teenager. Those who struggled to make me recognise my true potential when they could have given up on me. My teachers. Actually this post is about one teacher.

No, this is not going to be one of those corny teacher adulation posts that make you want to roll your eyes in disbelief. In fact the teacher being discussed and I didn’t even get along when I was in school, not least because I apparently tested his patience beyond control and because he had very little control. And also because student-teacher relationships in school never extend beyond the classroom (except when being punished and made to stand outside the classroom)!

But somewhere between then and now this teacher too changed. I don’t know what brought about this change. I wasn’t even ready to believe it when I heard of it. And then I met him again. By a curious twist of fate, I was back at school. Only this time I was a lecturer responsible for training teachers, and he was now the principal.

After an interesting first meeting (where he seemed totally shocked that I’d managed to get through college and beyond), we started the process of rediscovery. While we would always remain student-teacher, something was different now. No longer were we in the classroom and no longer could the teacher scare me by simply calling out my name.

Over the year (and even after that), both of us realised how much we’d grown up. For me it was quite literal, bringing with it maturity, knowledge, self-confidence. For my teacher it was a growing awareness of anger and rage (among other things) which were being counter-productive (or so I conjecture).

This recognition of how much we’d changed forged a new relationship I think. I was finally able to accept that this was a teacher who only ever wanted to help the students. The manner of doing it may have been different (one not palatable to an adolescent’s hormone and rebellion riddled brain). My teacher was also able to understand that it was never my life’s mission to make classroom teaching difficult. It was just who I was, and still am (inquisitive, talkative and someone who can't hide what she's feeling to save her life!). With a changed relationship and changed outlooks, both of us were finally able to appreciate and more important, understand each other.

Interestingly, these changes have made me so comfortable with my teacher now that I find myself part of serious discussions, many of them ending with me emulating a motivational speaker and being all wise etc. Even more surprising (in a happy sort of way) is that he listens to me and maybe even remembers some of it too.

Today, I value this special student-teacher relationship, albeit formed much after I left school. I may not have handed out any Favourite Teacher trophies to my teacher when I was his student. But I know now (or rather hope) that he knows that trophies tarnish. What we share now is much beyond any token of appreciation. It has its basis in respect, admiration, pride and above all, change.