Back to School

The alarm screamed at dawn, not a sound, but an explosion -

the official announcement that summer had ended.

Day One.

In a single night, we transform from sleepy sloths to hurried roosters, racing against a clock that shows no mercy.

Two hands, I realize, are never enough for school mornings.

Lunch boxes. Water bottles. Uniforms. Shoes. Last-minute searches for things that were exactly where they were left.

For weeks, we waited for this day.

Counted down to it.

Dreamed of routines returning, of sending our tiny tots back to their second home.

And yet...

The moment she walks out, the house exhales into an unsettling silence.

The cooker still hisses. The washing machine still whirs. A bike still honks in the lane. The maid still chats loudly on her phone.

But somehow, everything sounds muted.

As though the house itself is missing its favorite noise.

Even the colors seem quieter.

Bright pinks become pale pinks. Sunshine yellows soften into mellow hues.

The loud shrieks of excitement that filled every corner give way to polite greetings, office calls, and routine conversations.

Yes, I finally get my rest.

My long-awaited "me time."

Her routine is back on track.

Mine too.

But this silly heart -

why does it ache for the very chaos it was longing to escape?

Why does it miss the sunny smiles, the reasonless hugs, the sloppy kisses,

and those tiny interruptions that barged into my serious adult world without apology?

Back to school.

Back to office.

And yet, year after year, as she grows inch by inch,

my yearning grows too -

for more time, more interruptions, more mess, more sloppiness,

and perhaps,

just a few more hugs...