The last Day of the School that Raised Me

I returned to my old school in an ordinary afternoon. It looked smaller than I remember.

When I was child the corridor looked endless. The classroom felt enormous. The playground seemed large enough to contain the entire world.

Now standing at the entrance years later I wondered how something that has once felt so big cld suddenly feels so small.

I walked through the familiar gates slowly. The first place I went to was the playground. I remember spending hours there pushing myself higher and higher convincing myself that if I swing hard enough I might reach the sky. I rememberrd arguing with friends about whose turn it was and running across the ground and returning to class with dusty shoes and absolutely no regrets.

The swing was still there. I was the one who is now changed.

I wasled to the old classroom. They walls has been repainted but I could still remember where I used to sit. I remembered the excitement before holidays and the nervousness before exams and the whispered conversations that were supposedly secret but were never really were.

I remembered staring at the clock during the last period convinced that time has stopped hearing my English teacher Kokila mam teach the significance of golden ring on a finger that is mentioned once in the poem.

Now I would give anything to experience that ordinary afternoon again. Near the corridor was the wall were the machine to measure our heights each year for the physical test. Looking at the wall now I realised that growing up had never really been about height.

I had grown in easy that many people doens't notice and in what that can't be measured. I had learned things that can never be written in the annual report card. I had learnt how we can be happy to let go of the past that made us happy. What it meant to lost people. What it meant to be uncertain about the future. What is meant to grow up and reflect on our past self.

I walked past the royal where I learnt how to ride bycycle. I remember falling and crying and laughing and smiling while learning that with my father pushing me with an encouraging smile. And that is what motivated me to go again.

I stood in the middle of playground for a while before leaving. There were children running around, shouting, arguing, laughing and creating memories that they didn't know that they would miss one day.

I wanted to tell them to pay attention. To enjoy these beautiful days before we enter the adulthood. To tell them to remeber to boring classes and the silly arguments and the friendship that they assumed would last forever. But they wouldn't listen just like the way I wouldn't if I was in their place. But that is what makes the school life beautiful