Wednesday 27 February 2008

Reluctant

She feels the rough hands shaking her little body. The voice seems to come from a far away place. Reluctantly she opens her eyes, and then, blinded by the morning sun, she quickly shuts them tight again.

It seems like she is floating in the air, swaying left and right as she is carried to the other room. Her hands ache today, just like the other days, so she just sits on the stool and awaits her daily rituals.

Soon it is over. Her little body is bundled in an oversized towel, and she walks back slowly to her room. She looks up and sees that the fan has been switched off, just the wait she likes it. She cannot stand to feel the wind blowing upon her little body after her hot shower.

As she lies on the bed, the rough hands help her to dress up. She puts on the checkered yellow and red dress. The rough hands brushes her long tresses. Today she decides to let her hair loose, just like her favourite TV character that she saw last night.

Together they walk down the narrow staircase, hand in hand. Bibik feeds her bread with peanut butter. She takes a sip of her favourite morning tea. She enjoys her breakfast slowly while listening to Bibik's jokes. Soon they are laughing and making fun of each other.

Then Bibik helps her to put on her favourite socks, the one with little prints of smiley faces. She walks to the door, put on her pink shoes and runs to the car. Once inside, she rolls down the window and waves enthusiastically at Bibik. The car reverses and slowly leaves the house.

"I don't want to go to school", she mutters. She's not sure whether anyone hears her because the one with the rough hands is not saying anything. After a short silence, she hears the usual barrage of remarks like how fun school is, the friends that she will make, the knowledge that she will gain, etc. All that does not seem important right now, or at least not as important as being with her mother.

The car stops outside the school compound. The rough hands help to open her car door and hang the sling bag over her small shoulder. Together they walk inside the compound. The one with the rough hands watches as she slowly takes off hes pink shoes and arrange them neatly on the shoes shelves. The rough hands pull her gently towards the door. She walks slowly and clenches her little hand on the dress worn by the one with the rough hands.

At the door, the teacher greets her and tries to pull her hand. She clenches her fist tighter and moves behind the one with the rough hands. The teacher pulls her hand harder and the rough hands remove her other hand. Soon she is safely inside the building, her eyes pitifully looking at her mom who is slowly walking back towards the car.

Tomorrow will be another day and except for the breakfast menu, other things will be just like today, for she is The Reluctant PreSchooler.

1 comment:

Ummu Auni said...

Despite the hiatus of being a mother, a working slave & master student, i still blog :), but i've already change my URL, since early 2006

please proceed to http://milofuze.blogspot.com