Life of a student

I rarely tell this story to anyone. I had told this story only to those who required to hear it; mainly to encourage them.

This story shares a stark contrast to my personality. Today, I see myself as a stong woman who can control her emotions, someone who can hold back the tears as per their wishes; someone who is always considered to hold the fort when the going gets tough. I was not always like this. Once upon a time I was a little girl who would cry a lot. The reason that made her cry was "The school".

When I was three, my mother had enrolled me in a playschool. The teacher who used to run the playschool was my relative. I enjoyed going there. There were other students too. They became my friends. Everything was fine, until it was the day when my actual school started.

It was the first day of my school. I don't know what I was feeling. I knew I was going to experience something new today. My mother took me to the school. I still was not scared, sad, excited, or happy. My mother took me to the classroom. I saw some of my friends from the playschool. But here the atmosphere was different. It was too noisy, unlike the calm atmosphere at the playschool. I saw around that the children (by that time I did not know they were my classmates) were crying loudly. I found the noise unbearable. I felt suffocated in that atmosphere. I turned around and saw my mother leaving. Now I was scared. Not because my mother was not going to be with me, but probably because I hated when anybody cried. I was not tolerant to loud noises. That moment both things were happening simultaneously. My mother turned around. I looked at her and I lost any control I had at that age. Tears started flowing. I started crying. Not loudly but quietly. My mother stopped. A lot of parents were taking their children home because they were crying. My mother followed the suit. My first day at the school was only for 10 minutes.

After going home my parents consoled me that I would learn, play, and have fun at school. I should not cry. I listened. But same thing happened the next day. Looking at the crying children, I started crying too. This time no patent was allowed to take their children home. We all cried the entire day. This was the story every day. I would decide that I would not cry and go to school. After seeing my peers crying, I would start crying too.

Then everyday I would make excuses to not go to the school. Some days my mom would listen and let me stay home. Some day she would still take me to the school. I would never cry on the street or make a scene. But I would cry at the school. This crying saga continued for I don't know how long.

Then there was one time, when my mother told me that she does not go home but she stands behind the window of my classroom. She sees me through the window. That definitely gave me some courage. That day at school, I was about to cry but didn't cry because I knew my mother is standing by the window. I controlled my tears and went to the window. My mother wasn't there. But somehow I did not cry that day. After school I told my mom that I did not see her at the window. She said she stands near the other window and hence I would not be able to see her (spoiler she went home). I believed her. She also told me I should not come looking for her. I followed her instructions. That day onwards my daily crying was reducing. But still I would cry.

Afterwards my parents told me something that changed my entire outlook. My aunt was a teacher. My parents said my teacher is also an aunt, not my aunt but someone's aunt. Think about the teacher as an aunt and everything will seem fine. And it did. That made a huge impact on me. I was no longer crying at school. I had started enjoying the school. I made new friends. Learnt new songs. Learnt numbers and alphabets. Learning journey that started with tears was now heading towards knowledge. I was no longer a crybaby.

Today these memories make me feel emotional. At that time, schools were strict. Teachers were not soft and friendly. Yet, still we went to school and maybe that is what made us resilient.

Even today, when I see a child crying while going to the school, I remember my school days. I thank god that they are over.