We have a cupboard full of plastic cases at my grandparents' house, an array of Classic Disney, cheesy Hindi films, some home videos and a lot of nostalgia are found in them. Did you have any of those? Can you recall how easy it was? The straight forward "Play" without all the extra features or language choices. Yes you had to wait a few minutes to rewind the video( this happened often because I would always forget to rewind it afterwards) and the test pattern would hurt your ears for a few seconds but it was part of the fun. A ritual of my childhood I suppose. Rituals that I try to carry out now and again when I realise that so many years have raced by already. Nostalgia is often my favourite drug.
My first day of school I remember in a haze, like the beginning of the film as it came into focus. The tight plaits that stood stiff on either side of my six-year old head and the shiny stationery and the smell of wax crayons that would cling to the plastic of my pencil case. I remember being at the same table as people I knew from pre-school, happily waiting for Mrs Pringle ( who ended up teaching me again in Grade 3 ) to tell us what to do. Twelve years later and I'm still longing to be back in that sunny classroom with the mulberry tree outside the window, waiting to learn something that I didn't know before. I remember figuring out how many years until I reached Matric (Grade 12) and every year it would become smaller and smaller until suddenly... There I was, walking into the gates on the "First Day of School" for the last time. It had become such a natural place to be in, home away from home.
And the realisation scared me. Scared the part of me that is still a child waiting at the table with a wax crayon and a bright smile with a loose tooth that I kept jiggling with my tongue. There won't be a safety net after I leave these busy halls and that there was this huge expectation that I don't fall off this tightrope. That maybe this time, I can't go back and relive the magic from the start...
Trial exams begin in less than 2 weeks. A precursor to the final examinations that everyone keeps saying will decide my fate. Not a moment is to be wasted (even these precious few that I've stolen to write this ). The climax has come and gone, all that is left are the few formalities to tie loose ends and decide the destiny of the characters in the film.
Gone are the days of keeping silkworms in a shoebox and of letters home complaining that my writing is shoddy and I surely have a learning disorder. So quickly have the last few years rushed by in haste. Of screaming girls running to class and teachers who taught me to think and to love learning. People who's names and stories I know so well, probably will vanish into the depths of my mind. Only to be dredged up at a reunion in a few years (maybe). Soon, I will walk through those gates for the last time and all of it will seem like a dream. Not being able to recall parts if it that once seemed so vital. They become dulled and skip over like a broken VCR tape that sends the screen into a shock of black and white static.
