Back to school

When I was 3 years old I used to cry everyday before entering my classroom. My mom used to sit right across my class in a bench under a tree to smile at me whenever I looked outside. I still remember her words….nan inga than irruken..kavala padatha..

When I was 5 years old my dad walked me to the bus stop which was 10 minutes from my house. I still remember the dad and daughter talk we used to share.

When I was 10 years old my mom made my hair while my dad helped me put my shoes while I was watching T.V. I still remember the days when both of my parents would be late to work because of me.

When I was 15 years old my mom ran behind me giving me food. I still remember the look I gave her which meant please do not embarrass me in front of my friends.

When I am 20 years old….I wake up with the sound of my alarm with neither my mom nor dad beside me to feed me or do my hair. I remember the golden days passed by me.

Memories rushed towards me as I saw small children waiting for the school bus with their parents…with immense hope..with a big question mark about their future. I saw the same spark and fear in their eyes which I had 17 years ago. I wish I could rewind those days where I can be my dads little girl reaching for his hands to hold and protect me.
Now I am independent, I earn for my own small pleasures and of course to pay my loan : )….i can cook for myself and carry myself in a presentable way. And none of this could have happened without my parents.

And this reminds me that my school if starting from Monday : (….welcome back to world of sleepless nights….last minute cramming…late submissions…skipping lectures…and ..fairly no healthy food to swallow in the breaks..