Back to school....not again! (Part 1).

 "Get up, get ready it's already time for your school bus", Geeta shouts, early in the morning. "They are just having fun for two years now, no proper school, no submitting their homeworks on time, just the monsterous screen and the clicking sound of keys month in, month out. I am fed up".

She continues to murmur to herself, "They are just like their dad. He never studied in our school times. I used to tutor him so he barely passed. And he boasts about how he didn't study and still made it big. What example is he trying to set? Noone is bothered to take cognigence of how I am behind our kids daily, so that they study, be qualified enough to be self-supporting, unaided, capable of doing something on their own. I am doing it for their own good.......", continues her soliloquy.

Geeta packs lunchboxes and water bottles for kids and her hubby, stacks in their bags. Her husband leaves for office. She manages, somehow, to reach in time for kids' school bus. Exhausted, huffing and puffing she is back home. Geeta pulls the chair with much effort, sits at the dining table, catches her breath. She gulps down two glasses of water. She lays her head down on the table to relax a bit. 

Geeta looks in the mirror and fixes ribbons of her braids, "School uniform? Why am I dressed in school uniform?', she yells, rubbing her eyes. "Here's your tiffin, Geeta", her mom even outs a strand of hair, sticking out, on her head.

"Why is mom handing me a tifiin box? What is all this?', Geeta is perplexed. She looks around it's her dad's house. She is standing in her room, dressed in her school uniform. "Wait! This is a dream", she pinches herself. "Ouch!", she screams. "What are you doing Geeta, you will be late, rush to the bus stop now", her mom says. 

She steps out of her house, carrying her bag. Her feet automatically take her to the bus stop. Under a gulmohar tree, there's this school bus stop. The gulmohar petals of orange, yellow and red hues, scattered on the road. Geeta stands there, pushing aside the petals with her shoes, not knowing what is happening with her. "Did I time-travel? But Why? Why am I back to school days?", she murmurs. 

The school bus arrives. Geeta decides to go on with the plot, whatever it is. She hops on the first step and is about to climb in. She hears a familiar voice, "Wait for me". She peeps out to see, "Oh! It's him, he is late as usual!". Gaurav, running towards the bus, catching his breath, waves at Geeta.

They both get seated in the bus. Geeta sits by the window while Gaurav sits two seats behind. Geeta looks at Gaurav. "He looks so young. I had forgotten this face of his - no mustache, no beard, kiddish look. Unlike me, he is always late to school, not finishing his homework on time, doesn't remember tables, formulae", Geeta recalls and smiles.

"Gaurav usually sits next to me in the bus. He follows me literally everywhere. He never decides on anything, each time needs my guidance", Geeta's reverie.

She looks at Gaurav, but he is engrossed in something....."Is he reading a book? Is it really Gaurav?", Geeta is astonished.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's fun to write about school days.....

I miss those days when bags were heavy, not hearts ~ Quotesready.

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