A fairy tale to new generation.

It seems like a fairy tale but it was a reality for me 21 years ago. I still remember my first school day. My father was there with me. There were many students with their parents just like me. My father gave all the necessary information and handed over me to the Malvana School. Though it was a small school it was a cool place for me. Many of the teachers are family friends. Many of the friends are from my own village. As im from a family which had close contacts with the teaching profession many of the teachers considered me as one of their own children.

Every morning we ran here and there in the grounds of the school, around the classes and even in the classes. A playful childhood in the best place where it should be spent. Every morning we went in front of the office and stood for the morning meeting. Before everything in the morning I and several friends went to the school well and brought water to wash our hands before eating. For the first time I experienced what does it mean low grade economy (Im not rich too). Some students (My beloved friends) came to the school with yellow colored suits. Why my clothes were so bright? I thought. Then we opened our lunch boxes. Some had lunch boxes; some brought their meal wrapped in a banana leaf or in a old news paper. I was thinking “why?”.  Then several times I took my lunch wrapped in a banana leaf to experience the feeling like others, but I didn’t have a clear idea about the economic problems of villagers. I carried my books in a nice bag, but some brought their books in a paper bag or a simple plastic market bag. I tried this also. My parents told me about the economic issues of others. I got some lessons about poverty. I didn’t have a clear idea.

But for sure there was a family in the school. Some didn’t bring a lunch. We shared our meals with them. First lesson of my life to overcome difficulties as a family.  At about 11;30 am school finishes for primary class students. My grandfather comes to school to take me home. In 1992 I left the school. I entered to Mahanama College. I came to a far school which is situated in Colombo. The Kottan tree which planted that time remains for today. It was a small tree, every day we poured water on it. When I went to my school last time I saw the same tree in front of my class. Just like us it had grown to a big one.

There are many stories from my first school. Many of those stories are fairy tales to new generation. As for me and my friends it wasn’t. The times which we spent there remain in our memories even for today.

I think our story is not a fairy tale. I have lived in a fairy tale.