You stumble out of the bus and are greeted by a Guard Uncle whom, following your extroverted Indian nature, you have already conversed with before. Notably, these conversations, though being exceptionally superficial and short, are not what one calls ‘small talk’. They are a form of connection, and once again you do not realize yet another impressive ability you have inherited from your country. Truly fascinating is the impressive Indian ability to Connect with the most random strangers. Indians always connect, whether it be the Pani-Poori Bhaiya at the stall near their office or the Bhaji Wala near their house. Whether it be a city or a village, everyone is always connected.
An early-bird teacher and members of the student body check your nails, uniform and overall discipline. A quality so strongly respected by our country that every single PT Sir, regardless of which school they belong to, utters the word ‘Discipline’ to his students (the future generations) at least once a day. You pass the strict discipline test, maintaining the lack of a Remark from your Diary, Handbook or whatever you may call that fascinating feature of Indian schools.
You climb the Lakhs, not millions, of stairs like that one Mami with the bad knees, that she never properly gets checked by a doctor. You feel as if you will die but as soon as you reach your floor, you are as well as your Badmaash panch-saal-ka Bhai because of whom your Bua and Fufa, his parents, are always tired and apologetic. Upon reaching your class, you immediately notice the teacher’s pet (which is frankly, every Indian student ever) atop the teacher’s light brown table writing a quote from the oh-so-helpful Handbook, one you have never heard before but it still manages to sound the same as every other quote, in the finest cursive.
You plop your heavy textbook-filled bag onto a table and rush to your Dost-Log in the other class. On your way there you spot several cliques, but they all seem the same because of the common uniform, which is not only common in your school but in every school in your vicinity. You are pushed around by future sophisticated members of society running around in the corridor like monkeys. You meet your friend and both of you have the famous Indian Grin plastered onto your face. You overlook the sheer beauty in the Indian Grin and strike up a conversation. You do not realise that the Indian Grin is a smile so beautifully delighted that it brightens the day of anyone nearby. A grin so spectacularly unique and expressive that one can picture it merely by its mention. The visibility of all 32 teeth, the slight dimple, the shine on the bulby cheeks, and the big bright glimmering eyes is a sight of absolute wonder.
Being the careful rule-abiding student you are, which a majority of Indian students tend to be, you check the clock as you talk. It strikes 8:30 so you run to your class. Following your instinct of discipline you ask, "May I come in?" Your teacher surprisingly has mercy on you and lets you in. Your doubts about her good mood are instantly cleared when you spot the stunning Mehendi on her hand indicating that she must have gone to a Shaadi the day before and Dhumka-d her worries away.
You recite the prayers that you only recall when the old speaker in the top corner of every classroom guides you through it but could not remember without it even if your life depended on it. You recite the school song, which regardless of which school you are in, guaranteed has the word “Sanskriti” in it. The student’s voice beyond the speaker from the Principal’s office far far away guides you through a meditation. One more effective and relaxing than any online Yoga instructor abroad could ever lead. You stand up with great respect to sing the National Anthem. Notice how you Sing it, not recite it; because unlike the other hymns which you did not care much for, you sing "Jana Gana Mana…" with passion.
You, with the definite sole intent of being polite, engage in the common class ritual of wishing your teacher an out-of-tune and uncomfortably loud "Good Morning Teacher". A ritual so old that it is shown in Bollywood movies about student life, which really says something because Bollywood movies tend to be wildly inaccurate at describing people below the age of twenty-five. You have a seat and notice the gorgeous Salwar Suit your teacher is wearing. With intricate designs and spectacular colours, a Suit of personal cultural expression she had set aside a day to select from a collection of diverse designs.
You go through the day speaking a fascinating bilingual dialect, once again forgetting that this ability is present only in selected continents. The dialect you speak is one which you coined to be known as “Hinglish” at the age of 9, thinking that you and only you were genius enough to come up with an amalgamation as great as the same. You communicate your ideas in your Indian Way of bilingual dialects and beautiful grins and lovely loud laughs and bobbing heads and various special quirks your culture brings you. You never realise how special your Indian Way truly is and how proud you should be of it.
You learn the immaculate language of Hindi or Tamil or Bengali or Sanskrit or Marathi or whichever wonderful language your region may speak. Adding yet another wonderful aspect to your individual Sanskriti. You learn the history of your nation. You are inspired by the National figures and personally offended by those who wronged us in the past. You are embarrassed and disappointed by the mistakes your Nation made centuries ago and hate the remnants of it today because you genuinely believe that your Nation can do better. You learn the vast geography of your homeland and are left dumbfounded by the physical diversities that your land itself brings. You realise how not only is your community stupendously variegated, but so is your land.
The school day goes on for hours full of fun and glory. You connect with your teachers, joke with your friends and respect your Principal Ma'am. You enjoy your lovely lunch, you drink 2 bottles of water and sweat an equal amount due to the great heat, and, of course, you worked hard because that is what your Mumma-Papa taught you.
You finished school and even though that seems like it would be the end of a student’s day, it is not. The Indian lives a day of numerous events brimming with Grins and Sweat and Connections.
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