The One That Got Away (English)
I was at a school for a workshop, when I heard it for the first time in ages. It was barely audible above the shouting of children -- the laughter and sound bubbling from the school playground into the classroom windows. But it was there: the swish of silk saris and the jingle jangle of bangles on thin wrists like wind chimes.
This is what learning sounds like. I remember. I remember my school.
I remember when I was 10 years old, the principal of my School was Mrs. Biswas. She was the size of a nightlight, and she glided like a sailboat through the hallways of our school.
Once, when I got close enough to grab a fistful of her draping
silk sari, I tried to see whether she had any feet at all.
I thought she floated. She was magical
I was scared to be sent to her office: (all the false stories we have imagined about her cabin) we used to think she is a lion roaring in her cabin which was all surrounded by the hanging plants like a jungle
But
