You were fine

After two hours I went to pick you up and you were playing. It was a sunny day , so all the children were in an open ground. I searched you among those bundles of joy. You were there , near your caretaker. You were showing something to her and saying something. My heart was content , I felt relieved. After few minutes that lady saw me , lifted you up and came towards me. You saw me , jumped down from her hands and said a big ' Hi '. Then you came running towards me. Oh , what a joy it was to hug you and kiss you ! Separation makes love even beautiful ❤ , provided if we know that we will get back together. I asked you whether we can go home. You said ' yes ' immediately. That's very unlike of you. I have to manage a screaming child everyday before I could bring her back home. But after two hours of separation , you were done for that day. I talked to you all the way back home. We went to the bakery , brought a strawberry cake ( your favorite ) and went back home. You didn't eat anything in KG , so you happily had few bites of cake.

The next day also I left you and came immediately. You cried when I left. I didn't cry. I came home finished all my work and went to pick you up. You were playing and came home happily after seeing me. I was informed that you didn't cry much ; you didn't eat ; but you were playing happily. You said ' Tschüss ' to everyone happily and we came home. Hopefully , you stop crying very soon.

On Saturday , as soon as you got up , you picked up your shoes. You were insisting that I help you wear it. I was wondering what you were up-to ! You then asked me to give your winter jacket and cap. I asked  whether you want to go to KG. Your answer is ' yes '. I tried to explain you that it was a holiday. You were not content by my explanation , you were insisting that we go and was crying :) So , you love going there. That's a nice start , isn't it ?

I asked my mom about my KG days. She said , she doesn't remember me crying. She said , " you love meeting new people , no wonder you weren't crying ". But , I remember the day I went to 1 st std very clearly. My dad get transferred every 2 - 3 years. When I was about to start 1st std , we were in Tanjore. My mum came with me , joined me in school , took me to my classroom and left me there. It was a Christian Missionary run educational institution. It was spick- and-span. I would say , that school laid the foundation for who I am today , intellectually ( only two years of my education was from there ! ) The school was spread in several acres , they had a beautiful church and even a small zoo which contained rabbits and so on. I get very angry when I see nowadays schools which are run solely for profit - I don't understand how a building built in a meager space could be called as school ! The school I am talking about is called ' Auxillium Nursery School '. So , on the first day , my mom left me in the classroom and was leaving. I was scared for some reason. I got from my chair and ran behind her screaming. The teacher came out , knelt in front of me , and asked me , " Are you scared ? Do I scare you ? Are you scared of the scars on my face ? " I was dumbfounded. I observed her face for the first time. Her face is full of scars caused by small pox , I guess it must have been so severe , her face was filled with scars every inch of her face. I don't remember her face now but I remember the scars very clearly. They were so close to each other as if someone has carved small pits all over the face. I stopped crying immediately , I never cried thereafter. I felt her pain , I really felt it. Otherwise , I wouldn't have remembered that incident at all. I don't remember anything about her after this incident. I don't remember her way of teaching , nothing I remember about her. But I clearly remember trying to be extra nice to her always. Empathy is perhaps an inbuilt trait , a trait which is engraved in our genes !

Another person I remember from that school is Vedhavalli miss. She attracted me very much. She is kind , non - partial , treated every child well , always had a smiling face. She is thin , tall , black and had a beautiful face , mostly her face beauty is because of her personality. She was different , somehow very different from other teachers. She was our second standard class teacher. She was with us during play hours too. One day , we were all playing outside. She was asking us to stand in line. We were all trying to arrange ourselves. There was a boy in our class , he appeared bigger than all of us. That's what I remember about him. He suddenly went and kissed a girl. When we saw that we were all giggling. That was the age where we don't know much about physical display of affection , especially from someone other than parents. But we clearly know what he did is something out of the norm. I remember children complaining loudly to Vedhavalli miss about the incident. The boy was all embarrassed. I was eagerly watching what our miss is going to say. She looked at all of us and said we shouldn't laugh at him. She said , he liked the girl and so he showed his affection by kissing , that's not something wrong. I loved the way she said it. We are little children. She didn't try to avoid saying anything about the incident. That would be the way most teachers would have handled the situation. She said something very bold , very nice , very beautiful. I felt so even at that age. I loved and respected her for who she was. Do you know something ? After 30 plus years , I got in touch with her  via Whatsapp ( my friend gave her phone number ). I wanted to tell her this incident. She is retired now. I introduced myself. I don't think she remembered me. But she said she remembers me , that's very nice of her. But I couldn't talk to her much in Whatsapp. I could call her , but something is preventing me from doing so :) I don't know why , but I guess it has to do something about retaining the old memories - I don't want to loose the Vedhavalli miss I knew.

I have said a lot :) There are many school day memories - both good and bad ones. We will talk later.

❤
Amma