"Like gold in a furnace"..strongest metaphor to come across, this liner, this identifying thought ….so very own to the very St.Xavier's Durgapur, have ever since I walked through the welcoming gardens of its portals, made me think of just gold burning in a furnace. What more worth can a liner hold, the answer gradually moulded, shaped up and developed in me as the furnace itself became a casting identity for me, which saw me along with every single individual in that grey-white uniform, and every single person and his thought, grow up blossoming and moulding in the beautiful and yellow tinge of pride, all of which started in the furnace itself.
St.Xaviers Durgapur, my school, my identity and my reason to proclaim that every single inch of thought, value and virtue would not have had any meaning or shape without the school living in me, since the time I have been able to associate myself with the illustrious family of Xaverians.
I still remember vividly the first day at school when our Headmaster held my tiny fingers and escorted me to the big wooden doors and strange faces inside. I tried to see my mom, my dad, my sister or even my maid in the only prominent of the lot, but in vain. What was she there for and why does not she wear the same uniform like us? No, that was not the actual school of thought I carried then, as had not I been able to recognise the sight of a teacher in a class, I would have simply run away out of the big green gates. To add on, I was a chosen member of the furnace now, how can I not be able to differentiate a teacher and a student. Yet, the only question bothering me at that time was--"Cannot all of these be done at home, my home?"
That was the start of learning, start of imbibing discipline within, and an associated gradual feel of belonging, besieging the hesitation inside.
As I grew up through the first few years of my life, every single day my school used to make me feel there is a father to take care, a mother to love, way away from home, at another home. Every time I fell down bruising myself, I used to thank the grass in awe, whenever I forgot the homework, the dry concrete guttering lanes paved by the corridors gave me place to park my notebooks and complete my homework during the tiffin break (thanks to men in different uniform) who never let a drop of water drip along the lanes. (Felt like they too did not like me getting punished).
Living through the pale yellow walls of Mirabai were also the bylanes of memory which I would love to personalise as living youthful days of sharing, tussling, learning, sweating and nerve chilling moments (on a winter as well as on an exam day). Every Friday a "Sing Hossanna!" at the assembly hall used to make me ponder on the significance of singing it loud out. It makes me smile away in beautiful nostalgia when I now realize I could never get enough interest to peep out and read out, if not sing, the lyrical beauty of Sing Hossanna and a whole troop of other melodious assembly room numbers, until on a similar day, with me grown up as a senior member at Mirabai, felt a leader within, a proud disciplined singer within who must now teach the tiny toddlers how to grow tall, by values of self-discipline, learning and belonging.
Likewise, within the classrooms it was a similar chapter of learning every day. Be it Math, Science, Literature, across all subjects, I bow down with proud salute before every single teacher who made me what I am today. Today, I would not be couching back and guessing most of the answers correct for any quiz episode on TV, pertaining to elementary subjects, had my torchbearers not been there around throughout my childhood.
Mirabai took me to ABL from the 5th grade. ABL was huge, I still remember myself not barging inside and across any other corner blindly, just to keep my values of discipline from Mirbai intact. Every other corner, apart from my classroom, the stretch from the library till the staffroom (grade 5 lay midway the lane) used to make me shy away from putting my steps in. I used to feel like a momma's word ringing loud inside my ears, “that is foreign land! Cannot you see the long legs in grey and tall people with deep dark voices?!". I used to reply with a shivering yes every time I moved back to my same old grade 5.
Fun saw me taking it, living it differently. This time, it would be giving more to the annual sports meet, a bit more bold to walk up and ask the football from the staff office on a typical PT period, sharing a gossip during the tiffin break in a small group of 5 or 6, or giving my best shot to finish off my pending electromagnetics assignment, on one of the surplus benches occupying the last few yards inside the gymnasium.
The woods kissing the gymnasium would enchant us the most, no Xaverian can deny that. Loitering around and getting lost in search of an orchid or mushroom would take us miles inside at times, and every time I came out of it with the closure ring-ring of the tiffin break, I found myself mesmerized by the long bark of the Sal and the Eucalyptus which took me to the Scandinavia and Swiss Alps, like a laboratory class of Geography.
Memories of tug-of-war, Mirabai ABL relay race, the annual inter-school football tournament (Xaviers always the winner) farewell events, teachers' day, students' day, competition among the 4 houses of Loyola, Xavier, Gandhi and Tagore, elocution-extempore meets, and our PT Sir aligning us straight for the perfect march past on annual sports parade are still fresh on my mind and I feel like living them with every single dawn.
Moments and words can go on and on, but I do not think the priceless, timeless memories can ever be enough of a pen down of thoughtful nostalgia.
St.Xaviers Durgapur is a home, a family. It runs through my nerves, as I feel like waking
up on a week day, match my brown books against the periods, and pack them all in a faded Duckback with mom slipping inside a small box of bread and jam.
Can there be a better life than living it inside my very own Xaviers?
I leave this question to be answered by my fellow siblings growing up there.
--Tanmoy Dey (Tagore House)
SXS 2K batch
I LOVE YOU SXS DURGAPUR, MY ALMA-MATER, ALWAYS GRATEFUL TO YOU
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