Grief

I’m in the Principals office. I like it a lot actually. He lets me sit on the big sofa, which reminds me of the nice doctor’s office. I’m swinging legs back and forth, back and forth, while the Principal writes something in the piles and piles of files in his desk.

We both look up as my mother finally walks in. She has a permanently red nose and eyes these days. Her face is serene and still though. She commands the room, and for a second I am glad to see her. But then I see her eyes, and I know the unbearable depths of sadness are still there, and as I look at them, I’m plunged into the cold abyss of grey as well. I look at the concrete floor between my feet, and fight the overwhelming feeling of heaviness in my chest. I feel something damp on my cheeks, and realize it’s from my eyes.

“Good afternoon ma’am” the Principal courteously offers my mother a chair. He freezes when he finally sees her face, a microscopic tick flicks his face into profound sympathy, before he rearranges his expression to one of polite professionalism. “I’m sorry to have bothered you to come all this way, but Amal had another incident during recess, and I thought it best to have you collect her.”

I want to sink through the floor into the waiting nether. Mercifully he stops there and doesn’t go into the details of finding me curled up in the middle of the playground, confused middle-schoolers clustered all around me. A sports teacher clueless, churlishly screaming at me to stop being dramatic and get up or I’ll get detention.

“Do you know what triggered it this time?” my mother’s flat monotone quivers a little at the end.

“Unfortunately the shadow teacher wasn’t present at the time, we usually let Amal play with her friends during recess. We will of course be rectifying that” He coughs to cover his embarrassment.

“Dr. Khan says she’s making progress, but this will take time. Thank you for your support with us at this difficult time”

“Of course maam. Anything we can do to support Amal”

And then suddenly her red rimmed eyes turn to me, and pinned to the sofa that was my refuge just a short minute ago. I see a ghost version of her standing in the pool, staring at me dead eyed, sari folds soaking wet. I cover my eyes, and the gush tears out with my wails.