When I tell my current batch mates that I studied in an all-girls school for twelve years, they frequently ask, “What? Twelve years in an all-girls school? It must have been boring.”

Then, the question is followed by another curious inquiry: “Were there any male teachers at your school?”

During my initial days at St Mary’s Secondary School, Jawalakhel, everything seemed new. As time passed, my experience began to evolve into what most people would consider “normal”.

Suddenly, I was seated in my school bus, gazing outside the window, only to be amazed by a group of students belonging to a co-ed school helping themselves with panipuri, looking happy in each other’s company. That felt unfamiliar.

Questions and remarks from my schooling have always led me to contemplate. People have tried to express the “normal” way of education to me, where the “normal” entailed combining male and female students to enjoy each other's association.

However, the experience I had formed at my school didn’t make me curious about the “normal way” of schooling. All in all, the female friendships I had found at St Mary’s helped me find my type of “normal”.

Having turned 20, my female companions supported me at every adventurous epoch. Be it bunking school for the first time, learning about the forbidden websites, or walking in the streets of Thamel after some shots, inhaling the air that is a mixture of freedom and youthfulness. It was with my girl buddies with whom I shared the jolliness of life.

The melodious tinkling of the ghungroos during our dance sessions in the cosy shed provided us with an unspoken sense of camaraderie and friendship.

Similarly, the annual basketball match featured cut-throat competition between the opposing teams; however, by the end of the day, one could observe the rivals holding hands as they visited the Ajima store (the nearest supermarket) to buy lollipops.

Singing classes gave birth to songs imbued with memories and shared experiences.

While Zayn Malik and Harry Styles provided endless daydreams, the school’s environment was conducive to the blossoming of bonds between students similar to the characters Oliver and Elio from the book ‘Call Me by Your Name’.

Such bonds were embraced and celebrated, not shunned. The grief and pain that arose from friendships were dealt with with vulnerability and understanding. These were the moments when girlfriends exchanged giggles in return for consolation, which helped soothe the grief of not being liked back by your crush.

The discourse around an all-girls school usually revolves around criticising its conservative approach to education, which lacks gender diversity. However, in a country where male patriarchs largely dominate governance, I witnessed the matriarchal ruling of the sisters and the female teachers in my school.

During the enactment of the annual prayer service at school, I learned that the thread of rakhi and the blessings of Bhai Tika could also be exchanged between sisters.

My transition to a co-ed education for my undergraduate studies was culturally shocking, as it introduced me to the dynamics of both boys and girls learning together.

In the process, I capitalised on the advantage presented to me by my co-ed college as I tried befriending the ‘he’ brigade. How was it? It was a steep learning curve—and it still is. During my school days, a friend whispered a mantra for dealing with adversities, “Fake it until you make it.”

Considering that, I moved forward to embrace what was ahead of me. I brushed off discomfort to develop a bond like that of Rahul and Anjali from ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’.

Similarly, in a world where people made me believe that the grass was greener on the other side, I, much like Phoebe, am still searching for my Chandler, Ross, and Joey.

Being in a room with students who share your ambitions but still feeling like an outsider is like trying to dance to a rhythm that everyone else can hear but you can't quite catch.

There have been times when I have grown envious of my other girlfriends for their ease in forming friendships with boys. Yet every time I am struck with such thoughts, I give myself the benefit of the doubt that maybe the definition of friendship for others differs from mine.

Building deep connections with my school friends involved peeling back layers to reveal the budding friendship. However, those around me now view such depth as strange.

Bollywood or my heightened expectations for friendship made it challenging to traverse my path with the same cheerful energy as those around me.

With lasting memories etched into my consciousness, the transition did not scrape away the charm and meaning of female friendship I had discovered while at St Mary’s.

These relationships continue to be the cornerstone of my existence, reminding me that in a world dominated by male voices, the bonds between women are a force to be reckoned with.

So, when asked about my experience at an all-girls school, I express gratitude for the joys of female friendship that have enriched my life in ways words can hardly capture.