My 11th grade went by in a blur of Zoom meetings, online tests, and an endless stream of notifications from my laptop and mobile. It was a new normal that we had to adapt to quickly, and like everyone else, I found myself spending the majority of my time in front of a screen. The global pandemic had forced us into this virtual world, and there was no escaping it.
Online classes became a part of my daily routine. Every morning, I would wake up, grab a quick breakfast, and log into Zoom for the first class of the day. The initial novelty of attending classes from the comfort of my bed quickly wore off as the reality of endless screen time set in. The Zoom fatigue was real. Hours of staring at the screen, trying to focus on the lectures, took a toll on my eyes and my attention span.
One of the biggest challenges was giving tests online. The traditional exam environment with invigilators and a silent classroom was replaced by the solitude of my room. The fear of technical glitches was always looming. Would the internet connection hold up? Would my answers get submitted on time? These questions plagued my mind every time I sat down to take an online test.
Despite these challenges, there were moments of levity. Group projects and study sessions with friends turned into virtual meetups, filled with laughter and shared frustrations. We would often stay on after the official study sessions, chatting about everything under the sun. These interactions, though virtual, kept us connected and sane.
One day, during a particularly long and boring lecture, I got a message from Kohinoor. "How's the class going?" he asked.
"Boring as usual," I replied. "Can't wait for it to be over."
"Hang in there," he texted back. "We're all in the same boat."
Kohinoor's messages were always a welcome distraction. We had started talking more frequently, and his presence in my life had become a source of comfort and strength.
As the months went by, I found myself adjusting to this new routine. The initial resistance gave way to acceptance, and I started finding ways to make the most of this situation. I set up a proper study space in my room, complete with a comfortable chair and a desk, to create a distinction between school time and personal time. It helped me focus better and stay organized.
My parents were supportive throughout this transition. They understood the challenges I was facing and tried their best to create a conducive environment for my studies. My younger brother, on the other hand, found the whole situation amusing. He would often pop into my Zoom classes, making funny faces or trying to distract me. It was annoying at times, but it also brought a sense of normalcy and a much-needed break from the monotony.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day of classes and assignments, I called Pragiti, my class-mate. "I can't do this anymore," I said, frustration evident in my voice.
"I know it's tough," she replied. "But we're almost there. Just a few more months, and we'll be done with 11th grade."
"I miss the old days," I admitted. "When we could hang out in person, go to school, and have a normal life."
"Me too," she agreed. "But think about it this way – we have a great story to tell our kids someday. Surviving school during a pandemic is no small feat."
Her words brought a smile to my face. Pragiti always had a way of putting things into perspective and lifting my spirits.
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As the school year drew to a close, the anticipation for 12th grade started building up. It was the final year of school, and I was excited and nervous at the same time. The memories of 12th grade were still fresh in my mind, filled with turning points, ups, and downs. I couldn't wait to write about those experiences.
But before I dive into the rollercoaster ride of 12th grade, there's a story from my 7th grade that needs to be told. If you've read my previous chapters, you might remember Binita. She was my good friend back then, and we shared many fun moments, playing hide and seek with Varneeka and enjoying our childhood days. Binita and I even shared the same birth date and month, which was always a special bond between us.
What happened with Binita in 12th grade is something you wouldn't believe unless you read it yourself. It's a story of unexpected twists and turns, of friendships tested and loyalties questioned. So, stay with me as I take you through this journey, and let's relive those memories together.