Bidisha Maity

15 Years

53 Years

Rajkumari Santanamoyee Girls' High School


Omicron – Third wave of missing school | Essay

For any student, school is a heaven. It gives them education. It helps them to be better version of themselves. It shapes them into good citizens.

But for me, school is something more.

It has not only given me education, but taught me to dream. Through the mathematics and science lessons, it has taught me to dream about the unknowns of the universe.

History lessons have taught me to dream of a peaceful world without any war. Through geography lessons I learnt to dream of a world free from all pollution, global warming and climate change. Through literature lessons I learnt to illustrate my thoughts with words.

School opened the window of the world to me. Indeed, the whole universe was captured in a building full of books, benches, children and teachers… of course before this horrible virus changed everything.

School was my second home. The lockdown has left me partially homeless.

It was the place where my all pain and sorrow collapsed to the ground. It was the place where I felt like there was nothing else to ask for in the world.

In the short period of eight years, school had become an inseparable part of my life.

Sometimes at a sunny noon, I sit in my room and think, if only I could tide back one and a half years, I could be in a library, painting posters or making models.

Sometimes at a cloudy afternoon, I stand at my window and think, if only I could break the barrier of an agonising time, I could be in a darkening classroom, quarrelling with my friends whether we should close the windows and switch on the lights.

Sometimes at a rainy morning, I stand in my balcony and think, if time wasn’t so rigid, I could be in a crowded corridor, staring at the rainwater cascading down from the sloppy tin roof and extending my hand to the rain, while my friends were doing the same.

Sometimes at sunset, I stand in my yard and think, if I could control the fourth dimension, I could be in a packed classroom and listen to the end bell, while the last rays of the sun fell on my uniform.

Omicron Essay Bookosmia

Alas, it’s not going to be possible for now. The sun still lightens the trees on the campus, the clouds still throw their shadows on the building, the rain still showers on the roof, but there is no student to see those.

I still dream of the rehearsals before functions. I still sing, still dance, but in my dreams, not in a packed auditorium.

The school has re-opened, but it’ll never be the same. With masks, sanitizers and social distancing, the building will never be a dreamland again.

It’s the virus. A little, little thing, which isn’t even a living thing, and can’t even be seen with the naked eye, has changed so much of our lives.

Oh God, when will this pandemic end?

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