Temperatures in Gujarat have gone up ridiculously quickly. Normally I really like the heat because the temperature only hits unbearable levels in May, and it’s a refreshing change because it’s very energizing, in a sense. In summer, I find my laziness to be minimized because I don’t feel like cuddling up and sleeping on my bed. I prefer being indoors, yes, but I’m okay staying up on my chair and doing work.
Also, heat means more excuses to eat ice-cream and drink tender coconut water and consume other cool beverages. I like that too.
Except, Gujarat decided to experience a heat wave before it’s gradual rise in temperatures. Which means that the temperature here hit peaks even before “summer” weather actually started. Which is draining.
Anyway, I’ll be out of here in a bit, so it’s futile complaining about the weather.
Today, I spent some time thinking about how I used to pack my bag as a child. Every single night before school. We had textbooks and notebooks for every single subject, and I remember my parents cultivating this habit of ensuring my bag was packed every night before I went to sleep. It involved a couple of things, usually done in sequence. First was taking everything out of my bag. Then I had to look at the time-table and arrange all the books I needed for the next day. And then I had to arrange these in height order and place them in my bag – with labels facing in front.
After that I had to take my pencilbox and ensure that every pencil was sharpened and I had all the tools I needed to make sure that my day would go on without a hitch. The last part of this, when I was younger, involved showing my parents my Diary – so they could check that there were no important Circulars or Notifications I had forgotten to share with them.
It was only after this exercise that I was allowed to sleep.
Eventually though, as subjects reduced, I stopped caring so much about having a packed bag. Instead, I became lazy, and ensured that I had every book, every single day. This was fuelled primarily by my laziness. However, a large contributing factor was also the fact that my class timetable literally changed on a daily basis. Eventually, by the time 12th rolled around, I turned up to class with zero knowledge of what classes were happening, but one hundred percent confidence that I had everything I needed in my bagpack.
This was because I didn’t empty my bagpack ever.
I remember cleaning it out on the last day of Grade 12 and finding my first worksheet packed in somewhere. And some notes I had made the year before.
My mum never understood why I carried so much, but I carried it nonetheless. I carry that forward to today. I haven’t really unpacked my college bag since the semester started. I have 6 subjects, so I carry 6 books (even though I write only in 2), one miscellaneous book, and a diary, for meetings.
The only thing I legitimately do every night is re-fill ink in my pen.
Maybe I should start packing my bag again. If nothing, it made me feel like I had accomplished something small. And I always headed into the day feeling prepared. Maybe that’s why my parents made me do it.