The Last Children's Day

It hurts to even say this; the fourteenth of this month was the last school celebration I attended on the occasion of Children's Day. I don't know which school I'll get into after my boards, but definitely there won't be any more celebrations for me in this Carmel.

Throughout these twelve years, there have been endless memories and I still marvel at the fact that I'm about to leave this environment in a few days: it's like 'the end of an era'. The day was mostly about clicking pictures with friends, classmates and juniors. As usual we were allowed to wear outfits of our own choice and again, everyone was busy checking out who was looking the best. We were excited to find out what our 'dear' teachers had prepared for us (and were a little upset when we didn't find what we expected to). As soon as everyone was present we began our 'photoshoot' ; I was the one who kept on clicking the worst candids possible ( my friends hate me for that). It was a huge question from everyone whose picture I clicked that why do I snap shots when they are not ready, or are not posing. My explanation was that,"Everybody has a good picture when they are posing; but pictures clicked without the knowledge of the person in it are the best, because they are natural."
Here are examples:

All I remember is my best friend Sneha insisting me to click a picture with her; but as usual it didn't happen. My bad.

Then we went to watch the program, which was initially a bore, but it improved gradually. After that we hurried to the ground to have out tiffin( to feast, rather), and it was over even before we let it sink in. The day was a normal celebration day, with a lot more laughter (especially because of my pictures). Remarkable was the fact that it was the last time we got the chance to plan what to wear and what food to have because we won't have any other celebration after this. There won't be any other announcement telling us to proceed to the auditorium one by one and no one to scold us if we wore anything indecent( not according to the school calendar). This might seem very normal for anybody else, but only Carmelites know what it is to be a part of this.

Yes, it was the last children's day.
The sad part is I don't have any picture with Supriti; I won't get to see her in her wonderful outfits anymore and I won't be jealous anymore.

Bring me another flower

I was reading the short story 'Kabuliwala' by Rabindranath Tagore when, lost in the thoughts of the connection between Rahmat and Mini, something similar came to my mind.

The pool car in which I go to school carries fourteen girls, big and small, to school. Amongst us all the youngest one is Indrani, just four years old, who reads in the pre-primary section now. Our driver, who is always referred to as 'uncle' in a way as if it is his name, is a very friendly, responsible and also a caring person. 

Indrani looks like this when she gets angry:

Indrani (as cute as a little puppy) is a very interesting person. Little and adorable as she is, Indrani has a very bubbly nature. She can be quite moody at times, and when she is so she can be quite rude as well as angry, not paying heed to anything else. But normally, on other days she is like the icing on a cake which attracts me and lures me to school. Her smile is broad and bright, like sparkling sunshine; her cheeks are plump and form dimples when she smiles; her eyes, black and round, glisten like marble bearings. But the most striking feature of her is that ponytail. Oh dear! How disturbed she gets when someone plays with her ponytail( which I do!). Her laughter can lighten even the heart which is heavy with all kinds of miseries and pains and her uninterrupted banter can make even the most serious Chief Justice laugh. She never forgets to carry her ID card, and driver uncle makes sure she hasn't. 

Driver Uncle on the other hand is very particular about his job. He is rarely late, makes sure that the girls behave like girls (and not like chimpanzees!) at the same time indulges in a hearty laughter when something funny happens. He himself is a father and therefore knows how to handle kids and how to win their hearts: probably that's the reason why he is Indrani's best friend in the car.

Indrani loves flowers: and almost everyday when I enter the car I see a flower in her hand. "Kaku kaku, arekta phul ene debe?"(means-uncle, can you bring me another flower?)
This is what she says and uncle goes and plucks a flower, or a bunch of them from the nearby blossoming tree. He can never say no to her sweet baby-like appeal. Though she ends up spoiling the flower, and the petals never get the essence of our school (because their life ends even before they reach school!), the smile and happiness that is seen in her eyes is enough to melt one's heart. Uncle is the person who makes her laugh on her 'not so jolly' days. He is the one who keeps on listening to her baby-talk and responds in a similar childish manner. He never gets tired of her and supports her when the other girls ('didis', to be more appropriate) irritate her or taunt her. Whenever someone does something to disturb her or to get her attention, uncle gives Indrani the idea of calling her mother and reporting it to her immediately. No sooner he tells this than she picks up her ID card, puts it to her left ear( like a cell phone) and says," Ma, ei didi gulo amake birokto korche!" And we all burst into laughter. Even I love to see how she reacts when I toss her tiny little ponytail; she turns and gives a mischievous smile. In the car, every passenger has a name, but not the one their parents decided on, but the one Uncle decided so that Indrani does not have a problem remembering them.

Uncle is like the Kabuliwala, Rahmat and Indrani is like Mini. I wonder, what if like in the story one day they don't get to see each other anymore? And what if one day he sees her when she has grown up into a young lady but does not remember her dear friend 'kaku'? I guess, just like in the story he will marvel at her, seeing how much she has grown...

But the thing he will miss the most is her saying,"Kaku arekta phul ene debe?"

Because, all she used to say was,"Bring me another flower."

A Beautiful Day

It was in the month of September. It was a beautiful day. ☺

I remember waking up just like every other day, just that there were no worries, no bad thoughts; my demons hadn't woken up yet. I got ready for school, went down the stairs and was waiting for the pool car. As the car came, I hopped in, took my book out and started reading. Outside the window was the everyday scenery of the flats and trees and roads; inside I was engrossed in the world of 'The Oleander Girl' by Chitra Banerjee Devakaruni.

After few minutes of reading I glanced out the window. Though it was the same view that I see five to six days a week, it was different; different from the other days. It felt so fresh. I closed the book and started absorbing the morning's glory. The wind so gentle yet bold, the amber-like sunshine so warm and gleaming. As if even the trees had put on a new and greener attire!

As soon as I entered the school premises, I started observing every person and everything from a different aspect. I was feeling positive. One by one my friends came too, and the daily mandatory gossip began; but my mind was somewhere else. I don't know why I was feeling so blessed: blessed to have the things I had, blessed to be alive, blessed to have my family, friends and foes. As soon as I saw my dear friend Shreya, I told her how glad I was feeling. There were no worries, everything seemed to fall in place. I wondered if only this could go on forever and if only I could carry this feeling to the grave, but no. I knew this was only temporary: yet I felt contended.I don't know what made me feel that way- but whatever it was, it was heavenly. My mind felt at peace.

That day I realised that happiness lies in one's mind. It was just a normal day yet it was special. I stopped feeling that way after a few hours but when I look back upon that morning I feel better.
I shall take time to forget that morning; that wonderful start to an ordinary day.

It was a beautiful day.