Yes, there they come the summer holidays after all, we gave up our brains to exporter as well known “exams”. As a kid of 13, I already geared up my imagination of how I would spend my each day, no! May be each minute of the holidays.
The last day of school I enlivingly said to myself “now onwards, I don’t have to rush to school , waking up with the plaited oily hair which never messed even if I rolled over the bed, and take bath to wear the ironed tunic for which later I’d feel bad that would become wrinkled once I sat on bench, neither will my aunt scream around with the lunch box in hand nor will uncle wait continuously horning his bike”. Well, it seemed to be a hectic start of the day. Yet somehow would reach the school just 5mins before the last bell that rang at 8:25 sharp, I’d see all in blue and white striped shirt with navy blue tunics and skirts standing align in hurry while the prayer in ground was just to start by the headgirl of school as the headboy said attention! I went just to see all this happen sequentially like a daily drama happening at a open theatre, that seemed visually funny as all students didn’t follow up the instructions. As a late comer I was made to stand out at the gate, nagging at a spot holding tiffin bag in hand and load of books on my shoulders ..such a weight on little one. The assembly ended with national anthem at 8:45am. And I still remember none of them stood straight with fist close instead dangling like flower to music that was played. Finally, I was made to enter the school and it was not the end of the “hectic”, there was a laborious punishment waiting for us including standing out.
All that energy and an artificially embraced enthusiasm drained in this punishment of running. Drenched in sweat, listening to class, most important sleep tides after lunch and awaiting for homebell to be rung.
To my surprise and to the holiday’s I woke up like I had to run to school, thinking no one is awake and it’s 8 o’ clock already. Later to my realisation, I’d understand that it was beginning of my Holidays “more than a festival”. As a usual routine my biological clock didn’t let me sleep again on the other hand I was anxious about my holidays for two things – 1. Of how will my days go and 2. One day they will end. To say holidays were about going to summer camp were I was made to learn variety of arts in which I still loved was to paint, it felt like I was one step closer to nature. I still remember winning prizes for art and craft.
My childhood was something like playing without a plan and I still follow that, no matter what ever it made me go through, it made me, broke me, saved me, I became who I am !
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