In the beautiful school where I studied in the Doon valley, there was a unique, huge slide made of cement and quite high. One could see it from the road outside and it gave the back field of my school a stately look. This slide had dignity and was nothing like the usual slides one comes across in parks and schools. There were smaller slides near the new building towards the front gate of the school on Convent Road (the road is named after the Convent of Jesus and Mary). But the ground that is located towards the East Canal (EC) Road had a massive banyan tree and this solid looking slide.There was a small cycle stand there, in the corner where we proudly parked our colourful bicycles on which we reached the school.
During the break time, which was called “interval” at our school, there would be a crowd near the slide. The concrete stairs were climbed by us in a queue and then we reached the roomy square from where we placed ourselves on the slide and slid down, sometimes fast, sometimes in a leisurely manner, depending on our moods. At times, the excitement evoked by the slide made us forget to eat our tiffin and we would try to eat it secretly during the classes that followed the interval. However, that was quite an impossible task!
Several years ago, when I revisited my school, I found the mammoth slide standing strongly as ever, giving as much joy to the students as it had given us. I was thrilled to see it there and witness the hectic activity all around it. Some things can never change, I told myself. But I guess I came to that conclusion a little too soon. Just a year after that, I happened to again go back to my dear CJM and was in for a big shock. The slide had vanished! The space was needed for other activities. I was not able to find the actual reason for this change. Seeing the field without our good old slide was something which none of us had ever wanted. In our minds and hearts, our field was so special because of our slide. It was one of the pillars of our school. I am so glad that it was there while we were there. Our memories of school days would not have been what they are, without it. The screaming, the laughter, the fun and happiness it gave us will stay with us forever.
The sisters (nuns) used to be supervising us while we were on the slide. Once or twice, we insisted that “sister” should also come on to the slide and play with us. It was really wonderful! Some of the girls would sit on the stairs of the slide with their tiffins and have their snacks. There was enough space for everyone and everything. Sadly, I have no photographs of the slide. We continued to play on the slide even in our senior classes without any inhibitions. It gave us a refreshing break from the heavy courses of plus two. When I saw the slide-less ground, I realised that this was an era when things that gave only fun and happiness may not be considered as important as they earlier were.
Perhaps children of today may not be so attached to a thing like a cemented slide. They may prefer video games or computer games. The fruit trees in our school, the pretty gardens near the sisters’ homes and the slide had special importance for us as they gave our school the look of a cosy, homely world where we were safe and comfortable. Our teachers were just like our parents, school was an extension of home and the town of Dehra in those days was full of green hedges and grey heads. It was a sylvan town which charmed people from all over the country. It was the town of tongas and small bazaars , thinly populated, a town with tree-lined streets that were so easy to cross due to the few vehicles seen on roads. Bicycles were seen everywhere and canals flowed through this town. The East Canal was one of them and flowed outside the back gate of our school. We could see it from the top of our slide. The slide went, the east canal vanished underground for making the road wider. This is another world.