My Life Journey Part 1 (Previous Blog)

Unraveling More School Memories

Continuing with the recollection of various incidents from my school days, I remember a particularly regrettable episode involving a group of friends and one unfortunate friend who became the target of our collective annoyance. Reflecting on it now, our actions were quite reprehensible; we stuffed our socks into his mouth. Although the exact reason for our behavior eludes me, the outcome was immediate and dramatic—he reported the incident to the headmistress, claiming we had rendered him unconscious. His exact words were that he had fainted because the socks in his mouth made him lose consciousness. Understandably, the headmistress was taken aback by the bizarre nature of the complaint. Her response was to discipline us, opting for a rather unconventional method of pinching our collarbones—a punishment that was oddly reminiscent of a massage technique, albeit administered with a punitive intent.

Another memorable incident occurred when I was in the 8th grade. Our school had appointed prefects among the students, tasked primarily with ensuring that uniforms were worn correctly and that everyone behaved appropriately. One day, a senior prefect took issue with how I had tucked the bottom of my tie, altering its intended V shape to a flat appearance. After confronting me about it and expressing his disapproval, an exchange ensued that culminated in me rebuking him. Displeased, he threatened to take me to the headmistress. However, she was unavailable at the time, and he planned to return with me after recess. Anticipating this, I took refuge in the bathroom to avoid further confrontation. Unbeknownst to me, this prefect was actually a classmate of my older brother, who was two years my senior. Upon learning of the impending disciplinary action, my brother intervened, persuading the prefect to drop the matter entirely. I vividly recall the relief of evading the situation and the gratitude I felt towards my brother for his timely intervention.

School Days and the Quest for Dignity

Reflecting on my school years, I recall the peculiar importance placed on wearing the correct uniform. Prefects would often stop us, pointing out any deviations from the strict dress code. The emphasis on such minutiae, in hindsight, seems rather excessive, focusing on minor details over more significant character traits.

Occasionally, these prefects would demand students perform uthak-baithak (stand and sit) as a form of punishment for uniform infractions—a request I found utterly demeaning. The very idea of being compelled to perform physical exercises like squat and sit was something I could never accept. It felt like an insult to one's dignity, something I, even as a child, was acutely aware of and unwilling to compromise. This stance often led to a visit to the headmistress's office, a proposal I met with a straightforward "Let's go," fully prepared to defend my position.

As I progressed to the higher grades, interactions with prefects changed. Early on, they were friends of my brother, and by the time I reached the later stages of school, the prefects were either my peers or only slightly senior. This familiarity bred a mutual respect that often spared me from their discipline. My refusal to submit to what I viewed as humiliating punishments was generally accepted without much fuss, allowing me to maintain my sense of self-respect.

This sensitivity to personal dignity was a significant aspect of those formative years, teaching me the value of standing up for myself and the importance of respect in all interactions.

In an incident that underscored the complexities of our friendships, a close friend and I experienced a falling out after I used harsh language towards him, leading him to report me to the headmistress. In my defense, I misrepresented the situation, painting him as the instigator, which plunged the headmistress into uncertainty over our contradicting accounts. She ultimately decided to release us without punishment. I playfully insulted him again after our release, repeating the "son of a donkey" remark—a common Pashto jibe I had erroneously used before. This time, he didn’t attempt to seek justice. Stories like these, surprisingly, did not damage our friendship but instead gave us a peculiar story to reminisce about, reflecting on the intricacies of honesty, integrity, and the bonds we shared.

Mischief and Reflections

In another incident involving a different friend, our school days were marked by the use of fountain pens, a staple for writing due to their superior quality. Brands like Parker and Sheffer were highly coveted among students for their excellence. During a disagreement, we discovered a way to fling ink at each other using these pens, leaving conspicuous stains on our white shirts and grayish-blue pants. This resulted in both of us arriving home covered in ink, much to my mother's dismay. Reflecting on these moments now brings a smile, considering the innocent yet troublesome nature of our actions.

I also recall an actual physical altercation, a rare occurrence for me, with a student two years my senior. The age difference at that time seemed significant, suggesting he might have restrained himself during the fight out of respect for his friendship with my brother. This encounter stands out as a unique event in my school years, highlighting the occasional conflicts but also the underlying bonds of respect and friendship.

Strength, Style, and School Shenanigans

During my school years, physical confrontations were rare. In one of the few altercations I recall, it involved minimal physical contact and certainly no punches or kicks. Reflecting on those times, it's clear that, despite the lack of bodybuilding culture or dietary supplements within our school, some students, including myself, naturally possessed notable strength. I was particularly adept at arm wrestling, often challenging and succeeding against older students. My strategy was unconventional; rather than pushing sideways, I pulled towards myself, leveraging my shoulder muscles to gain an advantage. This technique served me well throughout my school days.

In my 11th grade, which was considered the start of college and thus had more relaxed uniform checks, I decided to express my individuality through clothing. I acquired a pair of fancy pants that were a slight variation from the standard uniform. This slight deviation became a significant symbol of standing out and expressing oneself, something that seems to resonate with the youth of every generation in different forms.

The story of these pants took an amusing turn when a classmate repeatedly complimented them, expressing his admiration every chance he got. Growing tired of his relentless praise, I playfully suggested we exchange trousers right there in the school restroom. Excited at the prospect, he readily agreed and handed his over in anticipation. However, I had no intention of trading my prized possession. Seizing the moment, I took his pants and quickly exited the restroom.

Our encounter at the market took an unexpected turn when a shopkeeper inquired about my father's name, a common practice in our culture to establish identity and connections. Unbeknownst to me, revealing my father's identity would cast a shadow over our misadventure. My father, a well-respected and recently retired local magistrate known throughout the town, and my older brother, whose academic struggles had led him to study in a local college within the tribal area, were both familiar figures to the shopkeeper. This discovery of our identities made us reconsider the recklessness of our intent.

Reflecting on this episode, I realize how fortunate we were to abandon the idea of purchasing the gun. Our naivety and lack of understanding of the dangers involved could have led to serious consequences, not just for others but for our own safety. These weapons, unreliable at best, represented a hazard we were ill-prepared to manage.

Looking back at these formative years, it's clear how the impulsiveness of youth can drive one to make questionable decisions. These reflections offer a glimpse into the mindset of adolescents navigating the transition from high school to college, seeking identity and belonging in sometimes risky and foolish ways.

Bonds Beyond Sections

Our academic journey was also marked by the structure of our school's class sections, each catering to students with different future aspirations. I found myself in the 'C' section, a diverse mix of students not singularly focused on medicine or engineering, unlike the 'A' and 'B' sections. Meanwhile, the 'D' section, added later, primarily accommodated children of air force personnel.

I was initially placed in the A section but found myself moved to the C section from the first grade. This reshuffling, rather than being a setback, enriched my school life, allowing me to forge strong connections with classmates over 12 years. Despite some annual changes in the composition of our class, the core group remained intact, fostering deep and lasting friendships.

Beyond our own section, we maintained close relationships with students from other sections and even those a grade above or below us. In such a close-knit school community, reputation mattered greatly, often influenced by the legacy of one's siblings and the expectations set by teachers familiar with one's family.

Reflecting on the 9th grade, a peculiar practice by our teachers comes to mind, highlighting their unconventional motivational tactics. Instead of offering straightforward encouragement to advance to the next grade, one teacher used reverse psychology, suggesting I would remain on the second floor for failing, while my classmates advanced to the 10th grade on the ground floor. Surprisingly, this remark served as a catalyst, spurring me to work harder, ensuring my promotion and allowing me to progress with my peers.

Transitioning to the 11th grade marked the official start of our college years, bringing with it a sense of seniority and independence. This phase was not just a progression in academic terms but also a physical move to a separate compound, distinctly marking our entry into a more mature stage of our educational journey.