Uniform(s) – story time.

This word just speaks to the child in me, more so to my memories of when I was a school-going kid. Not more than seven years ago I was in high-school and all through my schooling, as a norm, I wore a uniform (that rhymed). Not to mention how easier it was to just get up and get ready because all I had to do was follow a routine, wear the same old but hassle-free uniform and I was done.

To make it fancy there was a special sports uniform representing the colour of the house you belonged to. Sort of like the houses in Hogworts, we had four in our school it was almost like Gryffindor and slytherin situation, but our houses were based on colour of roses. I was in the red rose house. So, I had like a red t-shirt, white shorts or pants and shoes. Others were blue rose, yellow rose and black rose. Cool, right? We did have inter house competitions; sports and academics, but nothing as cool or magical as flying-broom-Quidditch-match.

I still can not imagine how School kids manage to choose what to wear in the western world. I think it could easily begin with “what you wear” and go to “how you wear”, finally coming down to “who you are wearing?” at a young age. For us, considering the wide disparity among the school children and their backgrounds, uniform(s) made it all pretty uniform. Otherwise, with all the variety of people coming from various cultures representing their own religious beliefs and traditions schools would have looked like a festival ground. Colours everywhere! Real vibrant and bright ones. Hmmm distraction!

College and professional settings are different, you choose to dress as everyone else, there is a dress code if not a uniform. As a grown up you either learn to fit in or to stand out in your own way but it is neither as influential nor it is within the four walls like in a school-setting. For me having changed four schools and five uniform(s), it was fun. I was part of more than four houses namely; tulip house in the kinder garten, surya (sun) house in the middle school, later Gandhi house in the middle school and finally a red rose. Ah! stories and memories.

 

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