This blog is no longer being updated. Last post was “Farewell”.
When I came home yesterday, I saw my younger brother standing in the kitchen still dressed in his school uniform.
“Aren’t you going to change?” I asked him.
“Nope,” he shook his head.
“Good,” I nodded, “I used to do the same.”
When I was in Matric, there was this teacher whose tuition academy I used to go to. The timings were such that I just got an hour or so after school to reach his place. Fortunately, my school was just a 10 minutes walk away from my home, so I used to dash towards home after the chhutti, stuff my mouth with whatever meal Ammi ji had cooked, throw the school tie and sweater away (well, not really away, but on my bed), put on a black leather jacket, and then dash my way to that tuition academy. After my return from there, I would just hang around in the same school shirt and trousers, giving everybody the impression that this kid (that is to say, me) is such a hardworking student that he doesn’t even have time to change into different clothes. And tell you what, most people really used to think like that.
Except for that one time when a cheerful fellow in my street asked if I was being lazy.
In my FSc days, things were almost the same. In summer, though, I used to change my shirt. (Those gray school trousers were such beautiful pieces of clothes that they got along with most of my other shirts smoothly.) In winters, there was again the throwing away of the college sweater (no tie, then) and the wearing of leather jacket. And considering that I used to have enough time after college to change into ‘civilian’ clothes, most people then started to suspect that I was being a lazy giraffe. (I only agreed with the giraffe part.)
The one person who was most irritated by this dress code of mine was my Ammi ji. You see, she is quite a perfectionist. Whenever she steps into my room, she takes a look around, gasps with horror, and then in a whispered tone says to me, “Saadat! What have you done to your room?” Needless to say, I almost always reply with no verbal answer but with an angelic, innocent look on my face, trying to convince Ammi ji that this room is highly organized if Saadat’s Laws of Organization could be considered. Needless to say again, Saadat’s Laws of Organization are always promptly rejected.
I don’t know if I miss wearing a school uniform. According to an ex-class fellow of mine, a uniform keeps your honour (izzat) because if you have to wear specific clothes everyday, and everyone else around is dressed in the same clothes, then this saves you the shame of wearing the same pair of jeans for the whole week. (Yes, he was that self-conscious.) To some extent, I agree with him. But if you consider Saadat’s Laws of Garments, then they state somewhere in their clauses that if you are wearing the same pair of jeans for the whole week, they become your personal uniform. Thus, you are then going to have all the benefits of wearing a school/college uniform by wearing that very favourite pair of jeans.
Now, where’s my favourite pair of jeans…?
They should be on my bed, according to Saadat’s Laws of Organization, but apparently these laws do have some flaws in themselves.