A summer school day in a tropical city can be fascinating to watch. The school session has different players at work, each dealing with stress in their own way and yet having fun with the more ordinary things in life. The actors are deployed on stage and at the end of the day, they are rounded up to where they came from.
The sun was beating down mercilessly on the tropical city. It was summer. The blazing hot white disk was nailed at the twelve o’clock position in an azure blue sky. Puffs of white clouds lay strewn across the horizon, too few and far too scattered to make any difference to any living thing. The earth burned with the heat of the midday sun. It was not yet the rainy season. For man and beast alike, it was a challenge to seek relief from the sunlight of any available shade.
The dark patches of protection under the trees were a luxury and a reward. As soon as the space below one was available, it would be immediately used and shared by people and stray animals. Although they were deeply grateful for the mercy of nature, the occupants felt good in the company of others. The heat had succeeded in sucking the energy out of everyone seeking refuge, putting them into a drunken stupor.
Life was also difficult for the trapped children as they were in their fifty-odd classrooms. The school was an H-shaped affair painted yellow. The open quadrangle at the front of the building was large enough to house about twenty double-decker buses and was about one-fifth the size of the playground at the rear. It was one of the best schools in the city, boasting an enviable size playground, with a railway line running past the outer walls at the other end.
A large public park was located across the street from the school. Perhaps due to the weather, the building was designed with large windows that were covered with ash-colored iron bars on the outside. Inside were folding wooden panels with glass, which were always rolled back for ventilation. The open space at the front and back of the building made it possible for Mother Nature to wash the classrooms with fresh air and dissipate the body heat generated by the forty-odd students who occupied each of them.
Although it defied common sense, the school authorities designed the daylight saving time to start the session earlier than normal and to pass an hour after noon. The idea was to let the students get out early so they could beat the heat by going home and sitting still. But releasing the kids when the sun was hotter wasn’t exactly the brightest idea, and indeed counterproductive. From early in the morning, the students began to arrive. The wealthy among them were left in their chauffeured cars, while the less fortunate had to make do with a trip on public transport followed by a short walk.
Interestingly, a percentage of the students were accompanied by very possessive parents, especially mothers who refused to part with their children even during the school session. As soon as their children passed through the folding silver doors, the women rushed to join other mothers ‘ladies’ club. On the long staircase in front of the main entrance, they hung like birds on a transmission line, divided equally on either side of the door. Yes, they were just as colorful and just as talkative. Safe under a roof and in good company, they began their lively conversation by bragging about the things they did or did not do, which lasted until school was out.
Students were on the receiving end: they had to deal with extreme heat on the one hand and the threat of being gored by textbooks, math, classroom monitors, and teachers on the other. The search for knowledge was damning. Then there was that class bully from all season to deal with. The situation can be overwhelming. The school uniform with the suffocating tie didn’t help either. In the high humidity and heat, the buttoned and knotted uniform beaded with sweat. First he wet the neck and, in extreme cases, the backs of the shirts were glued to the bodies that wore them.
Inside the classrooms, relief was available in the form of mechanical contraptions that hummed from the ceiling. The flat metal arms lazily tried to circulate the air in the rooms, in a vain effort to keep spirits cool. Pulling back the thick blue curtains from the windows helped cut the glare from the sun, which was welcome. However, the fact that teachers spilled complex theories and explanations about an otherwise simple life did not make things easy. The only way to rate the agony was to ask for a time out to go to the bathroom and hope that recess would come soon.
A shortened school day meant a shortened lunch break of about half an hour. Most of the students preferred to hang out in the shady gathering area and have lunch. Maybe play chess or enjoy a game or two of carrom. But not so for a handful whose sanity and testosterone were seriously on the wrong end of the scale. That wild bunch still preferred to play ball in the sun, only to return to class drenched as if they had just been ordered out of the pool.
Two periods after lunch was all it took to finish the day off. A little extra time was added to the electric bell that rang after each period with two short bursts at the end to spell the death of another school day. That sent the students running out the front door like a marauding army, like angry fire ants emerging from a disturbed anthill. For children, the weapon of choice would invariably be the ubiquitous wooden ruler, which they faced in fencing. Reincarnating the knights of yore, they fought fiercely for the honor of an unknown maiden.
The long screech of the electric bell had a Pavlovian response in the women’s club. They simply jumped to their feet to convince their members to be ready for action. Then, stretched out like seasoned cowboys on imaginary saddles, they concentrated on tying up the calving foals. Orderly chaos broke out. Although each of the boys ran roughly, as a group, they fit in very well towards the exit, of course pushing and shoving as they got out. The collective chatter ripped through the air with a deafening roar. The boys are making their presence felt.
Once caught, the foals were removed from the running herd. Bottles of liquid and snacks materialized out of nowhere, to be forced into unpleasantly struggling mouths. The foals were being hydrated for the Calcutta Derby. Then the straw and cloth hats are slapped on their heads. So far, the efficiency and economy of the move would put any Army drill sergeant to shame. Now is the time to run to the finish post, or rather to the bus stop, dodging umbrella awnings and bare wooden scimitars on the way.
Taking one hand, the mother leads the way with her son in tow. As usual, Junior would be looking the wrong way with no demonstrated intention to follow Mom’s pace or direction. A quick tug on the arm that held the boy’s hand was all it took to correct course in that sea of human traffic. His goal now was to get on board the first bus to leave. Her main concern was not stepping on the melting tar on the road in the summer sun, lest she be forced to leave the printed sneaker behind.
The uniformed janitor has the unenviable task of monitoring and pairing students with their parents or chaperones to ensure their safe passage home. Take a look at those surrounding the vendor of a shaved ice cart to realize that they are the arrogant type who regularly return home on their own. The crowd has shrunk considerably by then. He waits patiently for the last of the stragglers to leave the front compound before closing the double iron doors and calling the day a close.
The cacophony subsides when an eerie silence makes a soft landing.