21 January, 2008

16 years of vanavaas!

I'm turning 22 on 17 February, 2008, i e, in less than a month's time. Of these 22 years, I've lived in hostel 13 years in boarding, hostels. Yes, a long long time away from home. Don't ask me why...

When I knew what it was I opted for it. When I didn't I cried over it. I cried just once. I don't remember crying after that at all. I don't remember those days when preparation was actually happening to send me to a boarding school, but of course I remember the day I went there. Dad was away at London. Perima, mama and amma dropped me in school. I was overjoyed with the number of pencils and rubbers, stuffed toy, new clothes, hankies with VP embroided on them. It was fun to see all that go into a trunk just for myself.

The official stuff was all done, fees paid. I was a month and a half late to join school. I joined only in August. I missed a lot. But I didn't know what that exactly meant then. Mom took me to my class and left me there and turned to leave when I began to cry. I remember crying for hours together and then the pencils became exciting again. Nights were long for the first few weeks. Then the days seemed so long, I would fall asleep on my desk in the study. I remember those animal masks that hung in my first classroom by the principals office. I always thought they stared at me, and I avoided looking at them.

This was my first time in boarding school. If you are amazed - - you have the reason to be. If you have a question - - post a comment, I'll answer. If you think

'Life can be this way too - - Believe me it can - - and trust me its fun'

That was the first time I cried in school. The next time was also the last... the last day of school!

We all cry on the first day and last day of school!

Some call it vanavaas... 13 years... close to 14! ;) I don't look at it that way... in fact I don't look at it differently. To me it's just the place I've grown up. The place that taught me the values for life and the place that made me what I'm. Trust me, it's not that bad. It's not bad at all actually. It's life lived by yourself. Decisions made by yourself at a young age. You grow up as yourself. No bonds, no restrictions. yes, timely meals, early wake ups, no TV, no music, no mummy pappa. But loads of fun to grow up with many like souls like yourself, fun to stand in lines for food, fun to follow rules, fun to educate yourself with every mistake you make, fun to be yourself from a very young age.

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