Short Story School
Short Story School - THE SCHOOL
THE SCHOOL – Short Story School
Some were brilliant bordering on genius. Others, genius bordering on madness.
Almost all had spent a decade and three years together. But most were still unknown to each other.
They dressed the same way; double-knot ties (two crests blue and two black, strictly slanting from right to left), crisp ironed shirts, blue skirts which were measured by scales, one inch here and there and a week-long detention. Navy blue blazers which shone in sunlight. Navy blue knee-length socks (Six-pairs each. The Great School was strictly anti perspiration odour. ).
When all stood together, nothing but a huge mass of blue appeared to the eye.
Strangely, the Great School stressed on “individuality.” The “blueness” however, overshadowed it every single time. The last assembly-
The chilly December winds made it impossible to work for a normal man. But they were no normal students. The outgoing batch of The School still worked relentlessly inside the wooden-floored, grey-walled auditorium. Today was the last day of this session. Today was the last day they would face the audience, address them as the senior most girls. But most importantly, today was the last day they would be standing together as a “class.” After today, they would spend rest of their lives, meeting each other unexpectedly, brushing accidently, reading about each others’ achievements, a random engagement/marriage invitation here and there, and, as time moved on to higher degrees, obituary columns would remind them of someone who was once their classmate.
Emotions are prohibited inside the premises of The School.
Compassion is stressed upon though.
One can be compassionate with the beggars on street but one cannot shed tears on leaving this great institute. One can only raise one’s head, carry the heavy baggage of The Schools’ principles, and move on with life with an aim to “make this earth a better place to live.”
Fair enough. When one was
THE SCHOOL – Short Story School
Some were brilliant bordering on genius. Others, genius bordering on madness.
Almost all had spent a decade and three years together. But most were still unknown to each other.
They dressed the same way; double-knot ties (two crests blue and two black, strictly slanting from right to left), crisp ironed shirts, blue skirts which were measured by scales, one inch here and there and a week-long detention. Navy blue blazers which shone in sunlight. Navy blue knee-length socks (Six-pairs each. The Great School was strictly anti perspiration odour. ).
When all stood together, nothing but a huge mass of blue appeared to the eye.
Strangely, the Great School stressed on “individuality.” The “blueness” however, overshadowed it every single time. The last assembly-
The chilly December winds made it impossible to work for a normal man. But they were no normal students. The outgoing batch of The School still worked relentlessly inside the wooden-floored, grey-walled auditorium. Today was the last day of this session. Today was the last day they would face the audience, address them as the senior most girls. But most importantly, today was the last day they would be standing together as a “class.” After today, they would spend rest of their lives, meeting each other unexpectedly, brushing accidently, reading about each others’ achievements, a random engagement/marriage invitation here and there, and, as time moved on to higher degrees, obituary columns would remind them of someone who was once their classmate.
Emotions are prohibited inside the premises of The School.
Compassion is stressed upon though.
One can be compassionate with the beggars on street but one cannot shed tears on leaving this great institute. One can only raise one’s head, carry the heavy baggage of The Schools’ principles, and move on with life with an aim to “make this earth a better place to live.”
Fair enough. When one was