The final school bell that marked our dispersal was music to our ears. We were young, silly and happy. As soon as the bell rang, there was a mad rush and a virtual stampede to form a queue that would then be asked to march all the way to the school gate before we could go our separate ways. But all that would only happen if we maintained order and discipline, our teacher warned us. We found this an incredibly difficult feat since suppressing excitement wasn't exactly our forte. Still,the overworked and overstretched teacher finally managed to reign in the scurrying, the pushing and pulling, the squabbling, the joking and the deafening crescendo. We would be going home, what could bring us greater joy? The great competition that ensued was for the first position in the queue. If you can't be first, try to be second. If not second, then third and so on. Of course, no one wanted to be last. If you were, you were an outcast and a loser. Obviously, someone would have to suffer this