Memories

One Playtime

The huge bell rang I was in fourth grade or so. Many feelings soared, a time to get

out for some fresh air and be free. Our teachers were ‘sages on stages’. We had to

be quiet and soak in all they imparted. The main interaction was from teacher to
teacher, he always seemed to be talking to himself. He loved the sound of his raspy
voice.

He beamed out,  “It’s playtime. Put your pencils and books in your desks, line up
over here and walk in a straight line. Come back in fifteen minutes. Do not be late.”

The orders were loud and many, it sometimes felt as if we were in the Army. Lining
up to play? My excitement then was because, out there we would be rid of the merciless
and met with warmth.

The bell was our savior. Freedom at last! Out of the dimly lit room and into the bright

sunlight. Glowing and warming our bodies at that time of the morning. We were ecstatic.

Why does learning have to be so regimental?

We screamed and dashed, far away from our classrooms. We felt light and free. Now
the options were endless but the time was short. What could we do in fifteen minutes.
Eat for five or three and run for ten or twelve minutes. This was luxury, so many friends
and groups to join. The decision making was eroding the time.

“Think, think what should I do?” I would wonder.

Many days of the week, I would choose to play Ampe, ‘ a rhythmic clap twice, jump,
kick and clap twice at-the-same-time-game’ played mostly by girls. Playing opposite a
partner you would select which leg was your domain. Your partner would do the same
and hope to select the same leg to kick. If the legs met it was a tie, the alternative would
be a point to the partner with that domain. Sweat would be running down our face and
body but this was a game that would shake away the boredom and strain from a dreary
lesson.

Playtime helped break the day and revive us to face another loathsome speech.