Aging Gracefully

My dear Valley,

Happy Birthday! How have you been? It's been a turbulent 16 months and a roller coaster of emotions for many, hasn't it? This will be the second birthday in a row where we haven't quite been able to celebrate your special day the way we used to - with pomp and gaiety. I'm curious - do you miss all the fanfare, or do you like it low-key? Do you miss us? Do you miss the children?

I don't know how you feel about everything that has happened over the last year and a half, but we have missed you terribly. We have longed for the many sights and sounds that we have grown so used to over the past ten years.

I miss the sounds of the Art Village - the soulful strains of Hindustani music wafting from the music room and the clacking of the loom from weaver mama's room. We've missed hearing the innocence-filled giggles of the Mynas, Koels, and Bulbuls, and the boisterous laughter of junior schoolers monkeying around the jungle gym with their boundless energy. I particularly miss the warm welcome of the Art Village banyan tree, much like an old matriarch, with arms and branches extended out as if to give a giant hug.

I reminisce about your many birthday celebrations and other cultural get-togethers often. Memories of little girls decked in bright ghagra cholis, flowers wrapped around neatly done plaits, and eyes lined with kajal, teachers dressed up in earthy handloom saris, and young boys looking sharp in smart kurtas, flood back. Oh, what a riot of colors it used to be!

Most of all, I've missed the gentle silence of The Valley - the stillness of the guppy pond, the soft rustling of leaves, and the quiet energy of the Art Village.

But there are things about The Valley that I don't miss. For instance, I don't miss our teachers. Don't get me wrong; I love our teachers. I feel they are the heart and soul of our school. In fact, over the years, I've become good friends with a few. But I meet them, through my children, every school day. Agreed, it is through a screen, but they are at my home, our dining table, the kid's bedroom, bringing a bit of The Valley with them.

I hear them when Devi squeals with delight as her class figures out a math concept and when Varsha comments on a student's artwork, her voice filled with excitement and pride. I feel them when Prashant leaves the most thoughtful comments on my daughter's assignments, when Chitkala conducts her sessions with a bucketload of enthusiasm, and when Rajshri pours her love for her subject into every single class. I pick up bits and pieces of the conversations that Deepti and Smriti have with their class and watch them navigate gently and sensitively through the thoughts and emotions of 39 tenth graders.

This is true for every one of our teachers who come to class, eager to provide their children with the best possible Valley experience, despite the limitations of the online medium. I believe it is the presence of our teachers on that screen that has softened the feeling of loss of not being in The Valley.

Looking ahead, I'm filled with hope. I hope that one day soon, we will all be together, in your folds. You've always welcomed every child and adult with an open heart. When we do come back, I know we'll return the sentiment and run to you with open arms and a deeper appreciation of everything you mean to us.

Fondly,

Gayathri

PS - How splendid that both of us turned 43 this year! I must say we are aging quite gracefully! :)