When I was in school, I remember this clearly, although strangely I don’t remember anything good about my school, only the bad memories. Perhaps nothing good ever happened!
The memory goes something like this: I had no friends. Mostly because I dressed badly. I slept late—midnight sādhanā was my routine—and then had to wake up early for school. Not that I went every day; I skipped some days… until those ‘some days’ slowly turned into ‘never.’
On the days I did go, I often woke up late, didn’t comb my hair, sometimes didn’t shower, even skipped brushing my teeth, wore an unironed uniform, and reached school looking half-asleep, untidy, and slightly suspicious in fragrance. Naturally, this did not attract the wannabe-cool people of my class.
Add to this my outstanding academic performance—outstanding in the sense that I was often standing out of the classroom, and also the passing list—and it became clear that no one wanted to hang out with me, nor particularly wanted to become like me.
I was also that strange kid who either slept in class (technically, I was meditating) or kept gazing out of the windows at the river and the grasslands. Our school was on the outskirts of the city—land prices were cheaper there—so the view was far more interesting than the blackboard.
Combine all of this, and I was blessed with a great opportunity: the opportunity of not being in the company of others.
Because I remained isolated from people, I never felt the peer pressure to accept their norms or struggle to remain in their company—I was not there in the first place. I never felt the fear of losing friendships, nor the constant need to maintain them. This gave me the freedom to think about what I truly wanted to do and to forge my own path. I was not shaped by their influence.
Since I had no friends, no social circle, books quietly took their place. I began to consider people like Vivekananda and Chandra Shekhar Azad as my companions. I immersed myself in silent conversations with them, reading about their lives, absorbing their ideas and ideals.
In hindsight, the benefits of not having many friends, of not being the popular kid, have been immense in my life. And for that, I remain forever grateful to my wonderful classmates—for so thoughtfully staying away from me!
