You think school is just a building, right? With classrooms, playgrounds, corridors, stairs, bells, homework and rules! But “I” am more than that — I am your school, the place where you learnt things, yes, but also where you ran late, tripped on the stairs, slid down railings you weren’t supposed to, and hid from your friends under the staircase or maybe bunked classes and sat hiding in the auditorium.

Yeah! I know that! However, I don’t like it when you say you hate me… I’m the quiet one, not complaining about your behaviour when you run through trash, scratching my walls and stomping all over me every day… but I never complain. In fact, I miss everything about you. Because honestly, you complete me. You make me who I am.

But yes, kids love holidays; I get it. So you disappear suddenly. Remember the last week of last year? I was sad… You were leaving me for a while and I’d have to wait to hear your laughter again. I counted the days. It was cold and windy. Some windows were left open and the wind whistled through, making me shiver. I waited and waited.

New Year’s Eve came, and I wished… I really wish you were here with me. But no one came. I just kept waiting, counting the days.

Then, a couple of days later, the janitors started sweeping the halls, mopping the floors and I knew. Soon, very soon, you’d be back.

And that day arrived. When you came inside, though shivering, some of you giggling. Do you know how I felt? If I were your size, then I probably would have shown my happiness by jumping in over and over again, because I know how it feels to be empty suddenly. Those hallways of mine? They were lonely. The floors were quiet, and the walls? They were holding their breath, waiting to hear the laughter, the chatter, the noise of your shoes and the tickling of your fingers when you doodled on them secretly from your teacher.

But I’m happy. I love the noise. I love the chaos. I love that you’re back.

Come into my classrooms and you’ll see me light up. The desks creak with joy and the chairs stretch out when someone sits down. The blackboards and whiteboards can’t wait to be written and doodled on again.

My library has also been feeling lonely all this time; all the books on the shelves were untouched for a while. But when you pick and read, it feels lighter and happier. Similarly, the art room smiles with pride when you paint and create, and bring out your imagination into reality.

The other day, even the bell asked the air to blow hard and let it ding. The wind blew, but the ding was faint, making it feel sad. And then she said to me, “I have a job, but I feel I am of no use to anyone. How lazy days are these!”

Even in the playground, the swings missed you. The benches missed your laughter! But once you are in, all of them feel alive.

I feel happy just watching you. Even when you’re up to no good, whispering in the toilets, laughing too loudly in the cafeteria. I see the spilled water, the dropped pencils, the forgotten books and homework. I see all of it. And honestly, it makes me smile. That’s how you learn. That’s how you grow.

So when you walk through my corridors, just remember: this is your place. You belong here. You complete me and I complete you.

I can’t wait for another year with you — full of stories, laughs, mistakes, learning… little adventures.

So yeah. Let’s make this year… amazing. Together.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 17th, 2026