Once the microphone was adjusted and silence settled, the principal stepped forward.
"Good evening, students." he said, his voice warm and steady. "Today, we don't just say goodbye. We celebrate a journey. The journey of our senior-most students who are now ready to step into a world bigger than these walls."
There was applause not loud, but respectful. A moment full of heart.
"You've brought joy, noise, brilliance, and mischief into this school. And now, as you leave... may you carry our blessings, and all the lessons you've learned here."
Then came the teachers.
One by one, some of the most beloved and feared faculty took turns speaking each of them managing to say the same things, yet somehow making it feel different.
"You were loud but you were kind." said Mrs. Sinha with a soft smile.
"I've scolded you, but never doubted you." said Mr. Sharma.
"You have the potential to do wonders and break chairs, as history shows." joked another.
Laughter, sniffles, pride. All floating through the air at once.
Now Speech by the Favorite Teacher Mrs. Asha Rao
The mic was handed to her with a kind of reverence. Students straightened their backs. Even the mischievous ones fell quiet because when she spoke, you listened.
Mrs. Asha Rao smiled gently as she took the stage. In her saree, with her signature red bindi and half-moon spectacles perched on her nose, she looked at the sea of faces below her seniors, juniors, teachers.
Then she spoke.
"Hello, my children."
The room smiled instantly.
"Yes, my children. Because that's what you've all been for me. Not just roll numbers. Not just batches or attendance sheets. Children."
She paused. Looked directly at the seniors.
"Today... isn't an end. It's a turn in the road. A beautiful, slightly scary, definitely exciting turn."
A chuckle rippled through the crowd.
"I know many of you are nervous. Some of you are thrilled. Some of you have no idea what's next. And you know what? That's okay."
She smiled more deeply now, her voice gaining warmth and energy.
"If you fail a test - take it again.
If life says no - knock again.
If your plans change - adapt again.
And if you fall - get up again."
Applause began rising not forced, but from the heart.
"You don't have to all figured out. You just have to keep trying. And you have to believe truly believe that you are more capable than you think."
She glanced at the juniors now.
"You'll miss them, won't you?" she asked with a knowing smile.
Juniors nodded.
"And seniors I hope you know how deeply you'll be missed."
A longer pause. And then her voice softened to almost a whisper.
"There will be days when you'll feel like you're not enough. On those days, I want you to remember this hall, these faces, these memories. And most importantly... I want you to remember this truth:
You are always, always enough.
You are made of effort. Of laughter. Of potential. And of love."
The applause rose again. Some stood. Some wiped their eyes.
"And now... go," she finished. "Go with your head held high. Go chase your dreams. Make mistakes. Fall in love. Mess up. Fix it. Win. Fail. Try again. But most of all... live fully."
Then her classic teacher grin.
"And do eat properly, haan? Don't make me come chasing after you with dabba and chai."
Laughter echoed.
Tears followed.
The mic was set down.
But her words stayed.
Long after the noise faded. Long after the pictures. Long after the goodbye.
Her words stayed.
Then the mic was handed to the juniors.
Tara and Ahaan stepped onto the stage together. This time, there was no bickering.
Only a silence that held something heavier.
Tara cleared her throat, her usual sass gone.
"Being juniors under you all... has been nothing short of magical." she began, eyes scanning the crowd, locking on Meher and Ekansh, then Vihaan and Ritvik. "We've looked up to you. We've learned from you how to lead, how to laugh, how to fail, how to stand up again."
Ahaan followed, his voice more serious than usual.
"You inspired us. You protected us when needed. And let's be honest scared us a little when necessary." he added with a soft grin, "but you always made us feel like we belonged."
He looked directly at the seniors.
"You weren't just our seniors. You were our role models. You still are."
The applause that followed wasn't loud.
It was warm.
It was real.
Then came the moment that struck hardest.
From the crowd, the seniors were called to stage.
Meher the ex-Head Girl walked up first, her elegance as natural as her smile. Ekansh followed the ex-Head Boy hands behind his back, quiet pride in his eyes.
They didn't need to say much.
But they did anyway.
Meher took the mic.
"I still remember being in class nine." she said softly. "Looking at the seniors then, thinking, 'They're so confident.' And now here I am... scared to leave."
She turned to Tara and Ahaan.
"Thank you. For seeing us the way we never saw ourselves."
Ekansh stepped forward next. He rarely spoke much but today, he did.
"It's funny," he said. "I joined this school thinking I'd just study and leave. But somewhere along the way... it became a home."
He looked at the juniors.
"We're proud to leave it in your hands."
A soft silence followed.
It wasn't awkward.
It was sacred.
A teacher gently motioned for a group photo. The seniors, juniors, and teachers came together in waves first organized, then messy, then perfectly chaotic again.
There were no barriers now.
In the corner, Tara wiped at her eyes quickly, pretending dust had gotten in.
And then the principal stepped forward once more.
"Enjoy tonight." he said, smiling at all of them. "But remember this is just one step in your journey. Focus on your goals. Respect your path. And always carry the best of this place with you."
A final round of applause.
The principal gave a slight bow and stepped down, heading toward the exit. Teachers followed, though some lingered back, chatting with students, taking one last picture here and there.
The lights dimmed once again, casting a soft golden hue on the stage as murmurs filled the auditorium. Everyone thought the event was wrapping up until the mic crackled.
Vaani stepped up onto the stage, her black saree shimmering under the lights like stardust woven into midnight. Her silver jhumkas swayed with every step, her eyes twinkling with mischief. As she stood confidently in the center, silence followed because when Vaani held the mic, chaos was never far behind.
"Dekho... you all know mujhe yeh emotional farewell speeches nahi aati. Toh please mujhse yeh expectation mat rakhna, okay?" she said, flicking her hair with mock seriousness.
The crowd erupted into laughter. Typical Vaani.
She paused, looked at everyone friends, seniors her smile softened.
"Par haan, agar yaadein banani hi hai... toh aaj ki aakhri wali ek dhamakedaar banaate hai, thik hai?" she winked. "Music, please!"
Before anyone could even process what was happening, the iconic beat of "Kaanta Laga" blasted through the speakers.
Bangle ke peeche, teri beri ke neeche... haaye re piya...
The audience went wild.
Vaani flipped her pallu back over her shoulder, revealing glittering bangles as she started grooving in full energy. Her steps were bold, confident, and absolutely unapologetic just like her. The black saree swayed with her rhythm, a perfect contrast to the wildness of the song.
With her hand on her hip and a smirk playing on her lips, she danced like she owned the damn stage because honestly, she did.
When she hit the beat drop-
Kaanta Laga... haaye lagaaa!
The crowd was screaming, clapping, some even standing up from their chairs to cheer.
Then, as the final chorus of Kaanta Laga faded out, another track took over
"Sharara Sharara".
The tempo changed but Vaani didn't miss a beat. She twirled dramatically, hair flying as she pointed to the crowd with a teasing glare.
Sharara sharara... main hoon ek sharara...
Her moves now were playful, full of grace with a fiery edge. She beckoned a few girls from the audience Kriti, Nirma and some classmates who didn't even hesitate before running up to join her.
Together, they lit up the stage like a true Bollywood gang. Laughter, whistles, and hoots echoed through the hall as they danced like it was the last day of college life. And maybe, in a way, it was.
At the end, Vaani stopped, slightly breathless, and blew a kiss toward the audience with a grin.
The audience stood up, giving her a mini standing ovation, clapping with heart. Some were laughing, some wiping their tears but every single person was smiling.
With a wink, she threw her hand up.
"Music, please!"
The stage lights flickered and turned golden as the familiar upbeat intro of Gallan Goodiyan burst through the speakers. The entire crowd gasped and clapped this was not over yet.
But then Vaani shouted, "Main akele nahi karungi, sabko karna hai! Aajao sab!"
Everyone didn't need a second invite. One by one they climbed on stage with full swagger:
Even a few juniors sneaked up, blending into the excitement.
And then they began.
"Hello Hello Too Much Hai Tumne Lagayi..."
Vaani and Ahaan started center stage, facing each other like a challenge. Vaani flicked her wrist with the "Hello Hello," and Ahaan copied her with mock drama. They spun away just in time as Rudra and Kriti slid in, doing the classic step forward-shoulder bounce-finger wave combo from the video.
"Main daalun taal pe bhangra..."
At this, vihaan popped in with a perfect bhangra step arms raised, feet stomping, neck bouncing side to side. Nirma joined him, syncing steps and laughing.
"Tu bhi Gidda paa le..."
That was Tara's cue. She pulled Kriti and Vaani into a small circle and they performed a quick, graceful gidda twirl, bangles clinking with each clap. Sarees flying, earrings shaking-they owned it.
"Chal aisa rang jama de hum..."
Now the entire group made a semicircle, clapping overhead, shifting side to side. One by one, each took center stage:
Ayaan did a smooth moonwalk followed by a desi-style thumka.
Kriti added that iconic hair-flick-pose-hand-on-hip move.
Riyvik and ekansh locked arms and spun around like goofballs.
"Hello Hello Tu Floor Pe Kab Hai Aayi..."
Suddenly, meher stepped into spotlight. Hair open, confident strut she mimicked the floor entry walk exactly like the video. Boys acted shocked and cleared space, making her the center of attention.
"Dhak Dhak Dhak Dhak Dhadke Yeh Dil..."
Everyone now clapped together, moving in rows. Left step, right step, spin and clap. The steps were in sync clean, energetic, effortless chaos.
"Chhan Chhan Bole Amritsari Choodiyan..."
Girls formed a line, clicking their bangles together mid-air, while boys mirrored it with imaginary dhol beats. Everyone was singing now, off-key but full of heart.
"Raat Badi Hai Mastaani..."
Vihaan and ritvik locked eyes again-like a reel within real. They danced close, spinning, grinning, teasing, and finally pulling the whole group into a final spin.
"Kar Le Gallan Goodiyan!"
The last hook line hit, and all at once-they jumped, posed, arms in the air.
The music faded.
The hall erupted.
Thunderous applause. Hoots. Claps. A few teary smiles.
"Best farewell EVER. Seniors, you'll be missed"
A text appeared on the screen.
Vaani looked around at her friends sweaty, breathless, still laughing and whispered to herself with a soft smile,
"Bas... yeh thi meri speech."
The sun dipped a little lower outside. Lights inside the hall grew warmer.
And just like that...
The official goodbye began to end.
As the event wrapped up, Kriti returned again holding her head.
"Yaar mera sir dukh raha hai, mai ja rahi hu." she said.
("My head hurts, I'm leaving.")
"Mai chalta hu sath mein." Vihaan offered gently.
("I'll come with you.")
"Koi zarurat nahi hai. Nirma, tu chal ja iske sath." Vaani said quickly.
("No need. Nirma, you go with her.")
"Thik hai, chal. Mujhe logo ko mana karne ki aadat nahi hai." Nirma smirked.
("Alright, come. I'm not used to saying no to people.")
The sky had turned a soft shade of lavender by the time the autos and cabs scattered across the school gate. Sarees were now slightly crumpled, hairpins had loosened, makeup slightly smudged but no one cared anymore.
The laughter was quieter now. Tired. A little wistful.
One by one, they all peeled away into the arms of waiting family or waved each other off with sleepy smiles.
"Tum log bhi jao, mujhe aur Ahaan ko time lagega." Tara said.
("You guys leave too. Ahaan and I will take some time.")
"Lekin kyun?" Ahaan asked, confused.
("But why?")
"Kyuki tu Head Boy hai." Tara replied with a sigh.
("Because you're the Head Boy.")
-------
Tara stepped into her room and shut the door softly behind her. The silence was almost jarring after hours of chaos.
She dropped her heels with a sigh, sat cross-legged on her bed and stared at the class photo someone had just sent on WhatsApp. She zoomed in Vihaan making a weird face in the corner, Kriti half-blinking, Ahaan looking too serious for no reason.
She smiled.
Ahaan tossed his blazer on the chair, opened the fridge, and gulped half a bottle of water like he'd just returned from a battlefield.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling through the dozens of photos and videos flooding his phone. He paused at one vaani trying not to smile while he made a face beside her.
He stared.
Then laughed under his breath.
"Dramabaaz." he murmured fondly, shaking his head.
Vihaan returned home quietly. He wasn't saying much. Just slipped into his room, switched on the yellow lamp, and sat on the floor instead of the bed.
There was a photo in his pocket the group one they'd printed out instantly at the farewell.
He took it out.
Ran his fingers gently over a smiling Kriti in the front row.
His fingers curled around the photo, protective and soft all at once.
-----
Meanwhile, Ekansh, had gone straight to his room, changed , and just... sat. On the edge of his bed.
He didn't turn the lights on. The dim hallway light fell across the floor, enough to show the medal still tucked in his bag pocket the small one they gave the Head Boy.
He didn't take it out.
He just lay back, stared at the ceiling, and let the silence settle like dust.
No smiles.
No drama.
Just breath. And silence.
And a thought that maybe, just maybe, school had ended for real.
Vaani got home and walked straight into her balcony with a bowl of cold mango slices.
She sat on the ledge, watching the city sigh into dusk. The sound of distant horns, birds returning to trees.
The sun rose like it always did.
Birds chirped. Milk packets landed with a soft thud outside gates. Auto horns blared faintly in the background. But something about the morning felt... off.
Not sad.
Just different.
The kind of different that comes after something unforgettable.
In Kriti's room, the saree she wore last night hung behind her door, still faintly smelling of rosewater and talcum powder.
She stood at her mirror, now dressed in regular school uniform. White shirt, tie slightly crooked.
She smiled softly.
"Back to basics." she murmured and picked up her bag.
Tara stood in the kitchen, stuffing toast in her mouth while trying to pin up her school ID. Her mom shouted from the hallway, "Water bottle?!"
"Got it!" she called back, barely finishing her bite.
Her dad peeked out from behind the newspaper. "School again already?"
Tara grinned. "Yes."
Meanwhile, Ahaan was halfway through tying his shoelaces when his phone buzzed with a message from the class group:
"Anyone else feel weird going to school without seniors?"
He smiled. Typed back:
"Yes. Feels empty. But also... finally less competition for the canteen samosa."
At Vihaan's house, he sat quietly at the breakfast table, looking out the window.
His school shoes were polished. Tie, perfect. Bag ready.
But he wasn't going to school.
He was going to coaching.
To boards prep.
To that other life that comes after school but still doesn't quite feel like it.
His mom placed a glass of juice next to him. "You okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Just... feels like everything changed overnight."
She smiled softly, brushing his hair aside. "That's because it did."
Ekansh had been up early. Too early. His books were already open.
He wasn't reading.
Just... turning the pages.
Last night kept replaying in his head. The laughter. The speeches. Vihaan's knee-drop proposal.
He blinked it all away and picked up a pen.
Time to focus.
He had dreams to chase.
At school, the juniors filtered in as usual - morning assembly lines, shoe checks, announcements over the mic.
But there was a strange silence in the corridors where once laughter exploded from the 12th grade classrooms.
Their class doors were shut now.
Locked.
Curtains drawn.
Seniors weren't here anymore.
And yet... they were everywhere.
In the memory of chalkboard doodles.
In the carved initials on desk corners.
In the faded name tags left behind on lockers.
Over the next two weeks, school felt both normal and not.
Classes resumed, though half-heartedly even the teachers seemed to know that everyone was mentally halfway into vacation mode.
The seniors were gone now prepping at home, attending coaching classes, buried in revision tests and sample papers.
But the juniors?
They were still here.
Still waking up early, still wearing polished shoes, still dragging their feet through corridors.
In those two weeks, Tara, Ahaan, Kriti, Nirma, Vaani, and the rest kept bumping into memories like corners of old furniture:
At lunch breaks, they still talked about the seniors:
"Ritvik bhaiya must be going mad with Physics."
"Ayaan bhaiya ne toh keh diya tha she's deleting Instagram until exams."
"Vihaan bhaiya ne coaching ke samne waale momos ki photo daali thi... khud padhte bhi hai ya bas khatae hai?"
They missed them.
But they also laughed while missing them.
Meanwhile, teachers had started light revision, mostly for formality. Some classes had begun screening old documentaries or letting students write poems and plays.
Sometimes, when the bell rang, Tara would sit on the windowsill of her class and stare at the empty basketball court below.
"Two more weeks." she whispered once to Kriti.
"Then what?"
"Then... two months of freedom."
"Before the storm begins again." Kriti added.
They both smiled.
Friday, Two Weeks Later: The Last Day Before Holidays
The mood was practically festive.
No one carried books that day.
One teacher joked during attendance:
"Tum log chhutti pe ja rahe ho... ya jail se bhaag rahe ho?"
The class laughed.
And then the final bell rang.
Outside the school gate, buses honked.
Rikshaws lined up.
And in groups of twos, threes, sevens, and elevens the juniors who are now seniors spilled out of the gate, laughing, waving, yelling goodbyes.
Two months of nothingness lay ahead.
Summer, freedom, sleeping in, random meetups, maybe one or two text messages to seniors pretending it was about "notes."
And then, board prep would begin.
But for now?
It was rest.
It was calm.
It was a pause before the race began again.
The calendar flipped.
Now, it was February and with it came a shift in the air.
Board Exams had officially begun.
Homes across the city fell into silence.
Morning alarms rang earlier. Sleep came later. Tables filled with textbooks and colored sticky notes. The smell of ink, highlighters, and stress hung in the air like perfume.
Each senior handled it differently.
Ekansh, ever the calm one on the outside, was now pacing more than usual.
Ritvik now calm
Physics was his monster.
He stared at the derivations like they were foreign languages.
Some nights, he would step out into the balcony and whisper formulas to himself.
His parents didn't disturb him.
They just left warm tea on his desk and quietly checked if he was okay.
Vihaan, on the other hand, had turned into a zombie waking up at 5, sitting with notebooks till 1 AM.
His room was a war zone.
Flashcards on the walls. Timetable taped on the cupboard.
He had even written "NO PHONE TILL BOARDS END" on a sticky note and stuck it on his phone case.
But sometimes, around 11 PM, his screen still lit up.
Just long enough to scroll through Kriti's status, or re-read an old chat.
And then back to maths
Ayaan was the restless one.
He'd study for an hour, then walk circles in the living room, muttering answers to himself.
Sometimes, his mom would catch him whispering answers into a spoon while eating dinner.
"Beta... exam dena hai ya stage play?" she'd ask.
"Dono." he muttered.
On the mornings of exams, a weird calmness took over.
White shirts ironed. Admit cards folded perfectly. Pens checked three times.
Outside centers, lines of students waited some reciting, some praying, some just trying not to throw up.
Ekansh would usually find Vihaan in the crowd.
They'd exchange a nod .
Just that quiet, brotherly: "Let's do this."
Sometimes, Tara would send a small message before an exam:
"All the best, seniors. Boards are just another stage. And you were born to perform."
Or Vaani would text in the group:
"Ratt lo ya samajh lo, marks toh aane chahiye Go kill it!"
Sometimes Kriti would leave a simple emoji and Vihaan would smile at the screen a second too long before opening his book again.
And slowly... one by one... the exams ticked off.
Physics.
English.
Maths.
Bio.
Accounts.
History.
Biology
IT
Sweaty palms.
Heavy sighs.
Stationery fights with siblings.
Midnight panic.
But they were surviving it.
Together.
Quietly.
Back to School - Two Months Later
The holidays had flown by in a blur.
Now, the sun blazed overhead again as uniforms returned. School corridors filled once more but this time, the laughter came from a different batch.
They walked into school as seniors now ties straighter, backs taller, eyes a little wiser.
Tara adjusted her ID card while walking beside Kriti, muttering, "Yaar, now we have to behave responsibly."
Kriti rolled her eyes. "Ugh. That word gives me allergies."
Ahaan strolled ahead, spinning his pen. "I'm telling you... the moment anyone calls me senior, I'm making them carry my books."
"Which books?" Vaani shot back. "You don't have any."
Everyone laughed.
Meanwhile Results Day
The day had finally arrived.
Months of stress. Sleepless nights. Endless mocks. And now... just one link. One login.
Board Results: Class XII
The group chat was on fire - screenshots, screams, crying emojis.
Meher had already sent a voice note yelling, "I GOT 92! I CAN BREATHE AGAIN!"
Ritvik texted next: "90%. Physics didn't kill me. Surprising."
Vihaan followed: "88. Not bad. I'll take it. Maths can go cry."
Ayaan: "80. Could've been worse. Someone please pass me cake."
And then finally Ekansh.
He sent just this: "94%. Okay, wow"
And for the first time in days, the group went silent.
Because they knew how much it had taken him. The pressure. The quiet battles. The expectations.
Then suddenly the floodgates opened: "CHAMP!" "YOU LEGEND." "Ice cream party WHEN?" "Ekansh bhaiyya treat de do ab toh!"
And somewhere between the emojis and overused GIFs - was real pride.
Real relief.
They'd done it.
They'd made it.
But no one had time to pause too long.
The moment results came, another race began.
Forms. Entrance mocks. Interviews. Counsellors. Deadlines.
Ekansh was preparing for neet
Vihaan - upsc
Ritvik - aviation
Ayaan - business and e - commerce
The part after school, but before college.
The part no one prepares you for.
They were all scattered now.
Different cities. Different dreams.
But some things stayed constant.
the unspoken bond of having grown up together.
A Month Later - First Semester end (July)
Back at School
Tara stared out the classroom window as the rain fell in lazy streaks.
She remembered this exact view.
Same glass. Same sky. But last time... they were here.
She turned to Vaani.
"You think they'll come back to visit?"
Vaani nodded,
her usual sarcasm missing. "Maybe. On a random day. Or Maybe when when will make them come here"
Tara smiled. "Let's hope we're still here when they do."
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