Every day in my inbox…reminders of “Schoolgirls in saucy ponytails”. Reminders that I was, am at heart still, a Helenite.
In an earlier blog I wrote about going to boarding schools as a child. Yes, I spent most of my elementary and high school years at these fine educational institutions. And yes, my heart broke into a thousand pieces every time I had to leave home. Yet when I look back now, I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to go to some of the most wonderful schools, especially the four years I spent at St. Helen’s, our home on the mountains.
There is something about the hill schools that seem to reach out with tender, long tentacles, always pulling us back to reminisce and connect with old pals. We are still linked on Facebook...old ones, young ones, and not so young ones. Linked by a common bond—the affection we continue to have for our Alma Mater.
Recent Facebook postings show numerous pictures of a reunion of sorts back in the old stomping grounds, 5,000 feet above sea level. These pictures bring back vivid memories. The old dormitory has come to life on my computer screen. I am back in school again. I see a student with a ponytail—that could have been me with mine pulled up even higher, minus the gray. I sense my spirit in those young girls, the ones in tunics, our uniforms—necessary, but always the bane of our youthful existence. Oh, how we pestered Mother Superior to allow us to wear “coloured” clothes on special occasions so we could be rid of those dreadful tunics. Now when I see them, I am nostalgic for more. They evoke yearnings for one more glance at our castle.
When did we all grow up? What happened to our girlish dreams? Those wonderful dreams we spun while we giggled with innocent longings for a future that seemed elusively distant. We may be older and wiser, but in our hearts, we’re still schoolgirls in saucy ponytails.
Picture contributed by Nupur Das
Labels: Darjeeling, Kurseong, school, St. Helen's
