4:10 pm: Finish my work and waiting not to miss the moment when he barges in.
4:12 pm: rains lashing out and still no signs of the lift coming up.
4:15 pm: waiting..waiting..should be here any moment...go out a bit to see any movement of vehicles, and of no luck.
4:17 pm: ding..see the doors of the lift open and scream "yay" in excitement. I see a face hung down, sober, sober coming out.
"Hey..WE H..A..V..E HOLIDAYS, WE H..A..V..E HOLIDAYS"
"But amma, i miss my teacher Ms. S.... , I wont see her in my next class."
"It's ok A. She might come for some subject. Dont worry...She will be there in school..so, you can see her again"
"But amma, i want my teacher again. I miss her. I wish i go back to the first day of grade 1. Then i can see all my friends and teachers. "
" Why, you are going to the next grade. You've worked hard for this and you deserve to be in grade 2."
Well, it was difficult to console this little boy, for whom relationships are really everything. He takes to heart these small small things and makes his life a little miserable, like mother.
Did we all not wait for the holidays to begin and scream and shout out in joy on the last day of school? Did we ever say that we wanted to go back to the previous class? Well, some teachers are so special, but, maybe we were living in a different not-so-stressed- era where, playing was everything. You come back from school and play to your hearts content and then return back with heavy hearts and sweating bodies, after all that-i'm-not-going-to-serve-dinner statements from mommy. Those days are different. I really did not expect my boy to come out indifferent from the lift. It has taken a long time for him to cheer up and now, he still goes back to the shell of -i-miss-my-classmates-and teacher.
Well, to Ms. S, you have mada a difference to these kids. The afterwork is all ours, to cheer our children up. :-) No, seriously, she is a lovely lady and she would be missed. But, as she mentioned, she would keep track of her little chicks as the Mother hen always does, no matter how far they are.
He moves to Grade 2 with a wonderful expected performance in Grade 1, receiving certificates of excellence in all four subjects and being the star boy of his class. I love you, my son. You still are my little baby in a bigger frame.