This evening, as I sipped my tea, a little memory tiptoed into my heart.
I was in 2nd grade. It was a rainy morning—one of those gentle, magical monsoon days. I remember
feeling unusually happy that school wasn't cancelled. My class teacher, Daisy Teacher, was such a kind
soul—soft-spoken and warm. Some people… they just nestle into your memory and never quite leave,
don’t they?
That day, only 3 or 4 of us had come to class. I wore chappals instead of my usual school shoes and still
remember the relief of feeling the rain-cooled air on my feet. There were no lessons, just laughter and
the sound of raindrops tapping on the window panes. We played, we chatted… and at one point, Daisy
Teacher told us to lie down and rest on the benches. I did. And I felt so at peace. So safe. So very happy.
It’s funny how small, forgotten moments bloom suddenly in the quiet of life.
And I wonder sometimes… just like I remember some people so dearly—does someone remember me
too?
Until next time,
Greeshma
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