Do you ever find yourself reminiscing about that old school building?

Do you ever find yourself reminiscing about that old school building?

When the rain showers gently touch your face, your mind involuntarily drifts back to the past. A vivid image of your old school appears before your eyes... simple, beautiful, and overflowing with affection. That red-bricked building, the vast banyan tree in the courtyard, its shade hiding the secrets of your childhood, and those stairs where dreams were shared in hushed voices... remembering it all makes your heart ache with nostalgia.

Do you recall walking through that iron gate? Sometimes you would cry as you let go of your mother’s hand, and other times, you would dash inside with excitement to meet your friends. Every morning, the echo of the school prayer would fill the air, and by evening, the ringing bell would send your feet racing towards home. But it wasn’t just your childhood that entered through that gate; countless dreams walked in with you, took root step by step, and then soared high into the world beyond those walls.

The classrooms were not merely rooms; they were corners filled with the memories of your childhood. In the first grade, you carefully traced your first letters on a slate. In the second grade, your mind wandered out of the window, chasing the kites dancing in the sky. In the third grade, you scribbled numbers on the blackboard, and by the fourth grade, you had carved your name on the wooden bench. Those classrooms witnessed your laughter, your tears, your games, your learning moments, and the applause that followed your achievements. Sharing snacks with friends, the punishments for mischief, and the life lessons given by teachers... those walls have preserved all of it, alongside you.

Behind the school was an open playground, a space that was the very embodiment of your childhood’s boundless energy. During the monsoon, your clothes would get muddy as you played in the rain-soaked field. In the scorching summer heat, you would gulp down cool water after getting covered in dust. Cricket, kabaddi, kho-kho... every game brought unparalleled joy. Sometimes you sulked when you lost, but that’s where the determination to win also took root. The sense of freedom you felt while running across that ground during recess is unforgettable. Even today, the scent of that soil lingers in your heart, reminding you of those carefree days.

The school’s small auditorium was a stage for your budding dreams. Do you remember standing on that little platform for your first speech? Your hands trembled, your voice faltered, but the applause that followed filled you with confidence. The annual school gatherings were filled with plays, songs, dances, and the cheers of your friends. Those moments gave wings to your dreams, helping them prepare to fly high. Within those four walls, your hidden talents were nurtured and shaped.

And then, there was that school bell... It marked the morning prayers, the start of each lesson, the mid-day break, and the end of the school day. Each ring held its own magic. When the lunch break bell rang, the race to the playground began. And when the final bell of the day echoed, the excitement to run home took over. Those bells may have changed over the years, but their echoes continue to live on in your memories.

Do you remember the last day at school? Stepping down those stairs for the final time, your eyes filled with tears. Tight hugs with friends, heartfelt wishes from teachers, and the glistening moisture in their eyes... Those stairs felt heavy as if they were holding you back, unwilling to let you go. As you turned back for one last look, the building stood there, unchanged – calm, steadfast, silently bidding you farewell.

Today, that school might be repainted with brighter colours. The classrooms might have new desks, chairs, and upgraded facilities. Yet, the old marks on those walls still whisper stories. In the breeze that passes through those windows, the echoes of your laughter still linger. The structure might have evolved, but within its courtyard, your childhood continues to play, unchanged by time.

That building wasn’t just made of bricks; it was your first school of life. It taught you to read, write, laugh, play, and live. It gave you lessons that shaped your future. You grew up and walked down different paths, but that building remains where it was – standing as a temple of memories.

If you ever find the time, visit that school again. Walk once more on those stairs where you once jumped with joy. Touch those walls that safeguarded your childhood’s carvings. Stand in that courtyard and take a deep breath... the fragrance of that soil still preserves the innocence of your childhood.

Do you ever remember that old school building? It was not just a structure... it was your childhood, your first home of memories.