FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL
It was the D-day. I had not slept a wink the whole night, as
I had been mentally visualizing the same event iteratively. An eerie silence
filled our home with everyone tensed.
I went about my morning rituals uneventfully and obviously
irritably.
My heart pounded so loudly as I bent down to have a closer
look at my child barely 2 years and 3 months old. He was sleeping soundly
unobvious of the situation. It was his first day at pre-school. The entire
family had been rehearsing this event for quite some time discussing details
like choosing an auspicious date and time, carrying his favorite toy and snacks
and hinting him subtly about some nice place where he could play with toys and
other kids. Despite all this memory exercise, homework and planning, I had
butterflies in my stomach.
As I woke him up, he smiled radiantly and opened his eyes
wide. I wanted to hug him tight and wail. My mom gave me a look that asked
everything “Not sure who will cry first, him or her? Is it her first day at
school?” I prepared his favorite breakfast and dressed him up in his best
clothes. I could not even swallow a morsel. I had symptoms of nausea and heavy
head. My son though, was jubilant about going for an outing to some “unknown
place” with the entire family. Numerous calls from friends and relatives
wishing us good luck for the D-day was pouring in, but nothing could lift my
spirit or quench my anxiety. As he waved goodbye to our maid and the road-side
chai walla I wondered if I would faint even before we reached his school.
As we jumped out of our car and walked to his school, I held
him tight and whispered into his ears, “Be a good boy. Amma will be around”. He
giggled as though I was telling him some joke. The lady at the reception
welcomed us and requested me to let my child in. I hesitantly obeyed. The
assembly had started and my son was so excited about everything. As his teacher
held his hands and made him walk, he was comfortable and for a moment I thought
he had indeed forgotten my very existence. I had mixed feelings at that moment,
I was happy that he did not cry but was all surprised that he never turned back
and looked at me. The other teachers shooed me away informing that we could
only wait outside the gate and would be called in if required. My heart sank
and I could barely stand. I sat under a tree praying and breathing slowly.
Suddenly I could hear his wails and the distinct screams of
“amma”. I turned around and realized my husband had also recognized the familiar
voice. I rushed towards the door. The lady politely refused to let me in
responding that it is expected reaction for a toddler and my presence would
make things worse. I could not hear her words clearly as my child’s crying was
resonating.
The crying continued as I helplessly stood at the gate trying
to get a glimpse of my child. After about 30 minutes of incessant crying, I was
summoned in. The principal greeted me but I barely could smile back. I bluntly
asked, “Where is my child?” She pointed to the classroom and I rushed to the
door. As I peeped in, he leapt out and clinched to my neck. No words spoken. As
we hugged each other tightly, his wailing stopped and tears rolled down my
cheeks. That moment seemed eternal for both of us and we were disturbed by the
receptionist who informed me to meet the principal. He refused to get down from
my arms and I sat down with him hugging him tightly, the principal smiled and
informed that he would settle down in two weeks times. As we got out of the
gate, he was smiling and happy to get back home from school. Though he did cry
for almost a month before settling down, to this day, we still vividly remember
his first day at school and we enjoy recollecting the events.
