The first few days of school would pass in a haze of home sickness. This was something I chronically suffered from, and for someone who has not experienced the actual physical sense of emptiness and heaviness, it is a sensation that is hard to describe. I hated going back to school after holidays and wept and cried as if it were the end of the world. At the beginning of term we would be dropped off by our parents at different locations, from where the nuns would take over the group for the rest of the journey up to Nanital. These clusters were called school parties. My father would escort me from Gorakhpur to meet up with the Lucknow Party. I would sit in silent misery, huddled into a corner of the compartment, sometimes even sticking my arm out of the window, in the hope it would be chopped off and I wouldn't have to go back to school - so desperate was I. This feeling of dreadful angst would last a week or so and was a nerve wracking and traumatic time.
|House Badges - I was in the Green House, St. Anne's|
I remember being cruelly teased for my Pinocchio nose and because my father was from Hungary, which meant I was always HUN-GA-REEEE! I recall reducing someone to tears chanting 'Fatty Fatty Bum Bo Latty'. Some of us formed 'gangs' and would not talk to girls from another group. There were known 'tattle-tales', 'teacher's pets' and 'tuck friends' who were scorned and avoided. In hindsight all this seems so innocuous and stupid, but at the time was cause for much tears and heartbreak.
All companions faded away in memory after leaving school and it was only when I got onto Facebook that many unremembered names from the past cropped up again. It has been wonderful to reconnect and we do chat over the phone sometimes, though have actually only met up with a few individuals who are in and around Delhi. This is entirely my fault as I have become a bit of a recluse and don't like to travel, so prefer to keep to myself unless absolutely necessary.