Vernal Bereftitude

After bawling inconsolably for most of the afternoon, throwing uncharacteristic tantrums and refusing to get interested in anything else, even her favorite trio of Harry-Ron-Hermione discovering Hogwarts, Ana finally helped me understand the reason for her sadness: she did not want it to be the last day of school.

I know how she feels. Well, sort of. I used to get that empty, forlorn feeling after annual exams every year. Relieved that I don't have to go to school everyday for many many days to come, and knowing that I could do anything I wanted to do, I used to really want to go to school.

The parapet wall where I'd sit for hours talking with my best friend, the cozy little Ayah's hut where she'd lovingly make us a cup of tea that smelled like kerosene smoke and orange pekoe, the nook in the upstairs library where I'd sit longingly scanning the shelves vowing to read every one of the books before the year ends, my desk and chair in my classroom right in the front row corner with its nicks and cuts and forbidden carvings... everything turned magical when school was out for summer.

And Ana, at some level, in some subtle way that her sensitive mind comprehends, is experiencing this bereftitude...

I wish I could tell her it will be all right. I wish I could help her understand that while it will be different when she goes back next year, it will still be the same school, the same teachers she knew and loved, it will still have the same friends more or less, maybe even some new ones, and in the end it will all work out.

And, it might so happen that she would have to go to a different school, with different teachers and friends... it would still be fine, she'll shine...

But for now, all I wish to offer my little girl is plenty of hugs, a host of exciting activities, and an opportunity to see-experience-understand our world as best as her tender mind can...