Sab Chill hain

My eyes lit up the second my father said, "Ghar dekhne ja rahe hain." I had been looking forward to this day for seven years. Bangalore, or Bengaluru as it's fondly called, holds a special place in my heart—a city where I spent the most significant six years of my life. It’s a place that taught me to work hard despite the circumstances.

As we drove through familiar streets, we first crossed the big blue gate of my alma mater, Baldwin Girls’ High School. Nostalgia hit me as a wave of memories of my sisters and me running through the gate just as it was closing, flooded back. We lived just 200 meters away and always managed to reach just in time at 8:15. Laksha, the youngest, was and still is the most pampered. She was three when she started school with us. Her chaotic morning routine remains the butt of family jokes.

Every morning was a mad dash. My father would start waking Laksha up at 7, but she always went back to sleep. He would pick her up, make her brush her teeth, and leave her with my mom for a bath, which she often skipped as it got late. By the time, Laksha was in her school uniform, it would be 8 o'clock. Panic mode would set in. My dad would put her shoes on while my mom forced milk down her throat. Urvi would dump books and lunch into her bag, and I often ended up speed-writing ABCs in her homework book at 8:05. Depending on the urgency, we would walk, run, or be driven to school, always barely slipping through the closing gate.

Our school was massive, with a big playground, classroom buildings, and a basketball court in the center. In fifth grade, I took up basketball, dreaming of making it to the team, but the 6 a.m. practice sessions were a hurdle. The only thing I consistently achieved was scraped knees. I remember looking forward to visits to the nurse's room as an excuse to roam outside class with a friend.

Baldwin Girls was an all-girls school and was highly populated, with sections from A to H and 55 students per section. The sections shuffled every year, so it was hard to know everyone. Friend circles changed yearly, but I was lucky to find Muskaan in fifth grade. She stayed in my section until seventh grade and became my constant, my anchor. She was the first person I confided in about moving to Mumbai, despite my parents' strict instructions to keep it a secret. Muskaan was my savior, helping me catch up on classes I missed due to swimming and RoboCup. She shared her notes and brought me lunch in the robotics class during breaks. She was mature beyond her years, and I often followed her lead. We made a pact never to marry boys, thinking it was a silly idea. She was into fashion while I embraced my sporty side, much like my current roommate, Khushi.

Amidst all the changing sections, I had another constant: Tanusri. Tanusri was in my swimming batch from 4th grade till 7th. She was a year senior to me. We had a lot in common, apart from the daily rants in the changing room about the swim session. She had a younger sister, a grade senior to Urvi. Her mother and my mother were both Chartered accountants and became friends really soon. They even did a few auditing assignments together. They used to come over to our house a lot. My mother tutored Tanusri in Hindi for a while as they were core Tamilians and struggled in Hindi. We have been to plenty of competitions together and had many meals together, even on regular school days. I would visit her class often and just hang around her friends. They would tell me about the teachers they had and what I should expect in the next year. They made me feel comfortable. I even slipped out of my class to attend their annual Christmas Class party in 7th grade. 8th Graders were allowed to bring Electronic Gadgets on that day. We clicked a lot of pictures and ordered Dominoes on her phone. I enjoyed pretending to be an 8th grader for a day. The class was so big that no one noticed me. I even had the privilege of trying on her blazer.

I want to thank Bangalore for introducing me to Music. In 7th grade, I was made partners with Cheryl Jasline. She had an American accent even though she had never lived outside of Bangalore, and I always wondered how. She had the weirdest handwriting as if she had seizures while writing. She was below average in studies, and that just made her impression on me weirder. The first time I spoke to her was when the song “Blank Space” was trending in my class, and I had no idea what that was. She told me to go listen to it on YouTube. And that way, she would tell me about an English song almost every day and I would go back home and listen to it daily. Soon, we both became crazy fans (along with the whole grade) of One Direction and Taylor Swift. I was surprised by the infinite number of songs she knew. I realized super late that her watching VH1 all day was probably the reason for her American accent, her infinite song knowledge, and her bad grades. When I moved, I had probably gotten 50% of her knowledge. My impression of her changed from weird to fun.

She never missed school. The only 2 days she missed school was when she got her first period. This was a moment of discovery for me. I knew about the fact that girls get periods but had never gotten any details. When she returned from her 2-day leave, she described vividly about what had happened. It was a serious discussion, and I made mental notes for when my time came. We agreed that I had to be prepared, unlike her. Unfortunately, I don’t think anything can prepare one for their first period.

After crossing school, we stopped at the swimming pool. I learnt swimming in Bangalore in the third grade. We first joined the beginners batch in my school which did not work out due to school constraints. My mother then shifted me to the pool opposite our apartment building. It was a small 20m pool with 5 lanes. It became my training spot for the next 6 years. They had multiple slots, and they were full. My batch had at least 15 children. I resented it every day. I cried almost every day. During the first month of training, all I did was blow bubbles while keeping my eyes open in the chlorine water. I did not find goggles comfortable, so I had to get used to the sting of chlorine. Later in every session, they would make us kick while holding on to the wall for months. At the end of the session, they would put us in a queue and throw us into the deep end of the pool 2 meters away from the pool, expecting us to reach the wall with the kicks we learnt. I would cry and scream, go to the washroom to escape this part and run to my mother to hide from the coach. There was no escape ... the coach sent my mother out of the pool and gave me no choice. This continued till I started swimming.

Then there was a golden period where I made friends, learnt more strokes, improved, and got lucky with medals. I enjoyed flexing in class and even skipping classes for competitions. Training hours increased, and balancing studies with swimming became challenging. My mother was my pillar of support, tutoring me to ensure I stayed at the top of my class while giving my best in swimming.

Bangalore, with its challenges and triumphs, shaped me. It’s a place of fond memories, lifelong friendships, and invaluable lessons. Bengaluru, you will always be my home.