Our school farewell happened and I'm not okay (but also, that was a really good night)

I am a sarcastic person. It's my main personality feature. If you asked my friends to describe me in three words they'd say "practical", "sarcastic", "always has a plan". So it's strange that I'm sitting here at 11 pm, after our school farewell, writing a post that has no plan at all.

Fair warning: this is going to be messy.

The set-up

For anyone in class 11 reading this: the farewell for class 12 is organised by you. The juniors do the decoration, the performances, the speeches, the awkward anchoring. We, the seniors, only have to show up in sarees and kurtas and look emotional.

I told everyone beforehand, "It's just a function. We'll eat, take photos, go home."

I was wrong, and I'd like that noted.

Getting ready

My mother pinned my saree for forty minutes. She said I looked like I was going to a board meeting. I said I was going to a farewell. She said it's the same face. Ouch.

My friends and I met at the gate and everyone looked so different out of uniform that for a second I didn't recognise two of them. One of the boys had polished shoes. Polished! He has worn the same scuffed pair for two years.

The slideshow

It started with a slideshow, made by the juniors. Photos from class 6 onwards, class trips, the sports day where our house team came last (we still say it was "moral victory"), the year we all had matching sweaters because of a mix-up. Music in the background.

I told myself, "Don't cry, it's just photos." And then a photo came up of all of us in class 8, with front teeth missing, holding a paper trophy for a quiz we didn't win. The girl next to me grabbed my hand. She's someone who I fight with every second week.

Nobody said anything. The photo stayed on screen for maybe four seconds. That was the moment the whole hall got quiet.

The sashes

Every year there are joke titles. "Most likely to forget their own birthday." "Always late." "Walking encyclopedia." I got "Most likely to have a plan for the plan". Accurate. Someone else got "Never seen without a pen." My best friend got "Voice of the batch". Because she talks. A lot.

It's a silly tradition and I love it, because for a few minutes you realise that the people around you have been watching you, noticing small things about you, for years.

The teachers' speeches

I wasn't ready for this. Our class teacher got up and said, very simply:

"I won't tell you to work hard, you already know. I'll tell you to be kind to yourself in the next few months. You will not remember the marks. You will remember who sat next to you."

I looked at the floor. I think half the hall looked at the floor.

She didn't use a single big word. That's what made it work.

The part about the exam hanging over everything

Here's the honest part. All night, in the back of my head, there was a small voice going: boards in three months. NEET in four. You should be revising.

That voice kept spoiling the night. At one point I stepped out into the corridor, and the voice said "what are you doing here when chapter 9 of bio is still pending". And I caught myself, standing there in a saree, thinking about the nitrogen cycle.

I went back inside. I made myself stay present. I danced badly with my friends in a circle, and nobody judged anyone, and the DJ played the same song three times because the juniors requested it.

I'm proud of that small decision. I stayed in the room.

The last thing

At the end, they asked everyone to write a one-line message on a big sheet of chart paper, sign it, and leave it on a table. I wrote: "Thanks for letting me be bossy for seven years." Somebody wrote under it: "We loved it. Mostly." That "mostly" is the most honest compliment of my life.

What I want to say to you

If you are in class 11 or 12 and think farewells and school events are a waste of time, I get why you think that. I thought so too. I'd just say: go. Be bored for ten minutes if you have to. There will always be one moment where the whole thing turns into a memory while you are standing in the middle of it.

The syllabus will be there tomorrow. This one night won't.

I'll end here because I'm out of sarcasm and out of energy. Please tell me you also cried a little at your farewell, so I feel normal.