Letter to 12-F

I vaguely remember a day in 5th grade when I asked my mother, with irritation “When will I leave this shitty school?” It was killing me because apparently, nothing was more difficult than my unit test on Tuesday on fractions and decimals. My 10-year-old self was self-consumed by my daily dictation, assignments, group projects, and weekly tests and thought nothing could ever be as difficult and tiring as this, I couldn’t wait to leave school and be happy.

Happy?

I might have to take a rain check on that.

The alarm clock rang, and it was 6.30. I sat idly on my bed, staring at the wall, when the realization just hit me: I have my boards next month and need to think about colleges. I never thought I would be thinking about colleges. I thought it was not for another 5 years, but in the next 6 months, I would be in a totally different world, and suddenly, there would be no school. Finally, there would be no Amity International School, Noida. Finally, would I be happy? Would I be?

“XII F unofficial *golden star* *heart face*” notification popped on my phone, which had been lying on my bedpost. Obviously, that had to be our beloved class monitor—‘Ryka canyou’—trying her best to keep the whole class from falling into pieces. To say that she was just the monitor would be an understatement. She is our savage mother, or should I say ‘was’?

And the next notification popped up it was probably Jivin or Manveer, teasing Khyati or Navya or probably Rakshit with some weird ass sticker, it had become a routine that I realized would break in a few days. There will be no more “CAN YOU PLEASE STOP”, I never thought I would become so used to these people I never really talked to or even miss. Is this odd that I will miss our teachers calling us “nalayak class” after our whole class failed maths and accountancy and still laughed? Is this odd that I will miss Sneh Ma’am’s sass or her 365-watch collection? Is this odd that I will miss Rana sir and his eternal loathe for students with phones or the wrong shoes (me)? Is it odd that even though I never understood what Samson sir said, I will miss him teaching us? Is this odd that the things that I detested these years are the things that I wish could go for long? I wish I could turn back time and hold it or write it all over my being or just print it on my brain so I could never erase it ever, and made more memories, made the best out of 12-F.

I had met the best four people here too last year by the way, I never thought would become such bigger part of my life. From tears to cheers, from downs to all ups, they had seen it all and I wish I had meet them earlier. I cannot get enough of talking in between the classes with Alfeesha and always end up getting scolded, I cannot get enough of the racist and dark jokes of Sara and most outrageous happenings of Nishita,The study tips and literary talks with Manya in between shelves of the library will be the most important thing that would happen to me in these two years.

Maybe the random restaurant and cuisine recommendations were all I needed to remember Vivaan, or the most height-shaming jokes from the most ironic person—Kanav—or the beef between Aayush and Sanjay sir, or Sneh Ma’am and Lakshya’s Tom and Jerry play of attendance, or Parth’s solidarity study sessions and making me feel like an illiterate, or the sweet smile of Shrishti, or Jiya’s ‘Mega-math’ mind, or the very unsuccessful group study with Aayu, or Purva’s questioning jokes, or the most outrageous things Moulik did to any teacher were not the most significant aspects of 12-F but probably a routine. Breaking a routine takes time, and I absolutely despise change (maybe that’s why it took me two years to finally write this?).

 

For much of these two years, I believed I was filled with self-loathing and resentment towards my class. However, I realize now that I could never truly hate my class. It may not have drastically changed my life, but every time I spoke about my experiences with them, I had a story to share, and isn’t that what we truly seek? In the midst of the wrestling, hustling, and exhausting hours of our lives, just spending six hours a week with a few people with whom we can share a genuine laugh is invaluable.

After the days that had been cut short and school had been over, I longed for more of the chaos. I always had a bad habit of never cherishing the things I have and always longing for the things I had. I am safe to say that I had the best class.

On the day of our citation ceremony, a flood of memories washed over me. I thought back to my very first day in the nursery, when my mother dropped me off at school, right through to that final moment standing on stage with my citation in hand. Surrounded by teachers who had once called me “nalayak,” now embracing me warmly and showering me with blessings, I felt the weight of it all. These past fourteen years have been a tapestry of learning, laughter, tears, and challenges. Every consumed moment from today and the rest of my life will be the result of the time I had at Amity International School, Noida. I will always love you.

Signing off

Paridhi Jain

XII-F

Roll no. 28