I studied at P. K. School, Rewa from 1970 to 1980, straight ten years. P. K. School had prep, nursery, all pre-school classes. My mom being a working mother, sending children to school as soon as possible must have been very welcome and handy. Our house was near P. K. School.

All this ocean of concrete that we see today behind the school was once plain ground. Hopping through the ground, we reached our home in Majhiyar House.

The mind tends to eulogize and romanticize all that is gone by; especially when it comes to childhood. Speaking about our childhood, we forget the hardships. All that we remember is the idyllic setting, expanse and abundant greenery. I will try to be as honest and objective in my narration as possible. So here, we begin.

When I started my schooling, P. K. school was the best school in Rewa. There were no schools run by Christian missionaries. Children from the most educated and elite families came to P. K. School for studies. Our uniform was navy blue tunic, white shirt, red belt, white socks and black shoes. Saturdays, it was all white. We had our daily assembly in the huge ground. We used to call our teachers “Aunty”. Most of the teachers were ladies. Rama Aunty, Durga Aunty, Agnihotri Aunty, Saroj Aunty, Upadhyaya Aunty, Annapurna Aunty, Saraswati Aunty, Joshi Aunty, Chakravarty Aunty, Gohadkar Aunty, Chande Aunty and later Shashi Mishra Aunty and Premlata Aunty were our teachers. Among Sirs, T. S. Pande Sir, T. S. Pande Sir no. 2, PT Sir and Sanskrit Panditji were prominent.

We had prayers with folded hands. Those who reached late had the full chance of being beaten by Durga Aunty by a stick. I remember Durga Aunty only with a stick. She was very strict. She was known for beating children. In very initial classes, Agnihotri Aunty was my class teacher. I was in Section “C”. On a couple of occasions, I was thoroughly beaten by Agnihotri Aunty. Later Shashi Mishra Aunty became my class teacher. She did not beat me. But once she called my mother to school because I had stolen something in the class, most probably an ink pen.

I had much leisure time at our command. My class monitor Harvinder taught me sarfari bhasha where we inserted “rf” between each syllable. I mastered the language and I can speak it even today. I enjoyed safari bhasha a lot. I collected a treasure of feathers, pebbles [gutta], leaves, small glass balls [bunti] and similar things. We played kho-kho, kabaddi, gulli-danda, landi, and gutta.

I smelt different smells from tree barks, leaves, flowers and even insects. The world was there before me to explore. I did what I liked. The toppers of the classes, the monitors, the athletes, the singers and dancers were busy performing and grabbing attention. I was busy enjoying life. There was no urgency. Time lapsed.

I do not remember panic and urgency having any place in my childhood. I had enough time for everything. I colored my palm with designs made from sketch pens and ink pens. We used to play “julie” in which it was a must to have a colored dot on the down, left side of the left palm. When we reached the class, we showed our “julie” spot to each other and did high five. The one who did not have the spot, lost the game that day. 

National festivals were celebrated with fervor. There used to be songs and lectures. My basic concern used to be laddus. We used to get two laddus each. Once Bal Diwas was celebrated. We marched through the whole city to reach Pili Kothi area. There was a big stage. There were long lectures from the dais. We children felt thirsty and hungry. Guide and Scout program was also launched in the school with much fervor. A separate uniform was stitched for me, a single piece blue frock-skirt. Agnihotri Aunty was in charge.

In P. K. School, I was on my own. I was not a favorite of any of our teachers. My natural inclination was towards languages, social sciences and arts. I struggled with Mathematics. Moreover, my parents could not gauge that I was myopic. I needed specs. I could not see the blackboard clearly. Till 8th standard, I was good in languages, social sciences and arts. And in those days, only the student who was good at Mathematics and Sciences was considered to be a good student. Therefore, my days of academic glory started from 9th standard when I got to study subjects like Economics, Special English, History and Psychology. Arts stream was not available in P. K. School. The best decision was taken by my father, Dr. N. C. Misra ji when he admitted me to S. K. School where Arts stream was available. There, I was the star of the class from the word “go”.

In P. K. School, my only claim to fame was the fact that I was the younger sister of Rohit Misra. Rohit Dada was all that I was not - meticulous, systematic, obedient, disciplined, and exceptionally good in Science and Mathematics. His “peti” (we carried aluminum attaché to school) used to be spic and span. My peti used to be spilled with ink, muzzled papers, cloth pieces, torn books, copies, and my treasure items.

I started writing from the back page, starting with a drawing. It was so liberating to begin creatively in a new copy. The contrast between me and Dada was apparent. Everybody accepted it. My best memory with Dada in school is about the days we went to school after 14th January, i.e. Makar Sankranti. Maa used to keep crispy Til laddoos in our tiffin. As we started from home and reached ground, safely out of the sight of Maa, we used to sit on the ground and finish our laddoos right there without any tension of carrying the tasty burden to school and wait for interval bell to open tiffin and eat them. I clearly remember Dada and me sitting on ground and eating our laddoos.

Dada carried all the burden of expectations; expectations from parents, teachers, and relatives. I was free. It turned out to be a boon. Whatever I did was good. It has been a valuable lesson for me in life. A child who is allowed to live and grow freely gets more space to deviate and experiment. I was that child. While all good students compulsorily took Science, I ventured into Arts. Life turned out to be good for me. My imagination, creativity, and happiness got wings. I did not have to prove anything. All my performances, report cards, and appointment letters were welcomed. Given another life, I would again like to be a professor.

Returning to the experiences at P. K. School, a special mention is reserved for Rama Aunty. Rama Aunty taught us with love and compassion. I clearly remember the day she taught us the difference between “this” and “that”. Our class was being held on the first floor of the big hall situated beside the principal’s office. Many classes were being held in one big hall, each class sitting away from the other. We were being taught by Rama Aunty. She told us that the duster in her hand would be called “this’ duster while pointing her finger to the fan, she told us that it will be called “that fan”. Anything near is “this” and anything a bit far is “that”. The lesson was driven home. It settled for life. I never got confused with “this” and “that” ever again. This is the power of a good teacher.

I also remember very good class experience with Upadhyaya Aunty who made Social Science, especially History, very interesting. Shashi Mishra Aunty also made a very pleasant impression on me. I particularly remember her use of  blackboard.

Among my classmates, Harvinder Kaur made the strongest impression on me. She was the class monitor and a natural leader. I used to follow her. Kandarpa Saroja used to sit next to me. Her Mathematics was very good. I used to try to follow her steps in solving a question but not to much success. Shagufta Hafis came to our section around 7th or 8th Standard. She at once appeared sophisticated and friendly with her two long braids. I remember Sharad Srivastava who was very good at studies. I also remember Yogendra. Vibhu Suri was in Section “A” . I remember him very well. I remember many stars of the Section “A” - Rajshree, Ruchira, Deepika, Ani and others. I clearly remember Maneesha Nalgundwar didi leading the assembly and the parade. I have a beautiful memory of Ruchira’s elder sister Rachna Didi drinking water from the handpump.

I remember some classmates of my elder brother, like Pankaj Mathur and Anil Pandey. I distinctly remember seniors from my mohalla, daughters of Dr. Sajjan Singh ji, Madhu didi and Sandhya didi in blue skirts. His nieces Vandana and Kalpana (Manju) and nephew Sanjay also joined P. K. School. It is still fresh in my memory because Kalpana joined my class. Rita Sharma, Mala didi, Punku, Shailu and Bubby - we were all there in the school from the mohalla.

These snippets swing in front of my eyes as though it was just yesterday.

We do not seek our old school; we actually seek back our childhood.

When life has taught so much, I want to go back to those days understanding that child who was me. Now I can put things in perspective. Now I understand as to what was happening.

Such were the days in P. K. School. By 8th standard, I had grown into a tall, skinny, wheat-complexioned girl with huge specs.

My personal takeaway from those initial ten years of my schooling is that ordinary children can do extraordinarily well in life. Godfathers, protectors, and mentors are all optional to success.

Initial years are meant for care-free growth.

Each child is unique. Everyone carries a different set of innate qualities. We should let the children grow freely. Parents should be careful in not living their own dreams through their children. Life is very vast. A good life means being a good, strong and emotionally capable person. Such a person grows out of a safe, and supportive environment. Children should be free from pressure and comparison.