By Yatindra Bhatnagar

Our twin granddaughters Nisha and Shivani (daughters of Seema and Randeep Suneja) are now going to school. They are just 25 months and the parents thought it's time for school. Their grandma (Dadi) in New Delhi, and to some extent their Nana-Nani, here in Houston, did not favor the idea. We wanted Nisha and Shivani to be about three years to go to school, mingle with other kids and more importantly, be able to give us the feedback.

I felt they should be able to at least tell their parents and us, what happened at school, who are their new friends and how's the teacher? What did they learn, or do and are they happy to be there?

They are not yet able to tell their stories. The only sign their mother feels about their reaction to school is if they are happy to go to school in the morning or if they react strongly against. Even that is not decisive as sometimes they say yes in the morning but start crying, or are upset, at the school and don't want to be left there. They are so used to seeing their mother - and the housekeeper - throughout the day that the feeling of being without them for a period of 3 or 4 hours is something unusual and unacceptable.

We are told that they will be alright in a few days. They just started on February 1, the day two years back we finally relocated to greater Houston area of Katy after 22 years in California and near the other granddaughter Tamanna (daughter of Sujata and Mujtaba Roashan) whom also we saw going to school and who is  now a  confident, young lady to be married later this year. Time flies!

This is really how time flies and life goes on and on and people grow, and grow. Of course we grow old and old but still are alive to remember, recall, relish and re-tell whatever we went through.

I still remember my first school. About 78 years ago it was not common to send kids to school at an early age. I was probably one of the first to go at just over three years. The main reason might be that my two older sisters were at the same school and Mother found no problem in sending me with them. The other might be that Mother knew my first teacher and had no problem in entrusting her precious son to her care for a few hours.

Chhoti Bai, whose image I still have on my mental canvas, was a nice, sweet, young woman who was quite fond of me. I know that as I, a playful, naughty boy, needed to get my hands and face washed frequently, and who else would lovingly do that but Chhoti Bai. I don't know/remember her name and I also don't know if I cried the first day when Mother left me with Chhoti Bai.

I do remember I cried and almost passed out when Mother left me at another school a couple years later when I must have been over  five. May be the school was not nice; may be there was none like Chhoti Bai there, but I did not feel comfortable. I don't remember when I was withdrawn from that school. I still cannot forget Chhoti Bai and my first school - UCC Mission School, in Indore. It was run by Canadian missionaries who were also running the Hospital, not far from the school, where I was born.

I don't remember much from my first few days at school. I know I could tell and must have done so, about my day/days at school. Nisha-Shivani are not yet able to. Both are bright and fast learner. The problem is if Nisha learns the first lesson, Shivani also picks that up effortlessly - with a catch.

You ask Nisha: What's your name? Pat comes the reply: Nisha. You ask Shivani: What's your name? Pat comes the reply: Nisha. She learned fast and knows the answer to that question. She is now made to realize that the same question can have different answers.

I went to half a dozen schools before spending a full academic year,  and passing any class till I was in the third standard (in Bombay those days you graduated from High School in seventh standard). I hope Nisha and Shivani would not have to do that. Of course, their first school, Crème de la Crème, is just for tiny tots. It's a very expensive school, with the foyer like a good hotel reception area; small classes and several other attractions.

Seema took Sadhana and me for a tour of the school and though a good 20 minutes drive from the Suneja home, it had impressed them. Yes, it's a very well conceived and kept school and we hope Nisha and Shivani would quickly adjust and prove to be the star pupils. There are 25 such schools in various parts of the US.

Crème de la Crème is actually different. According to the school's owners, "Crème is not your typical child care or preschool, but rather an early learning center designed to make the most of the windows of opportunity in a child's brain development for math, science, music, art, second language acquisition and other subjects."

A brief, but vivid, description of the school runs like this on their website, as you tour the facility:

"Goldfish swim in the stream under the wooden bridge you just crossed. You linger in the village streets between perfect, one- and two-story houses and storefronts plucked from a Victorian fantasy; a bit of the "Beauty and the Beast" soundtrack lands gently on your ear. A small train choo-choos down its track as young children within a jungle-themed theater giggle with delight. When it's time to take a break from it all, they cool off in the nearby water park."

We met Founder Roberta Babb in her small office full of toys. Impressed by what I had seen, I said to her: "If you had such a school in the early 1930s I would have joined it." She smiled and said she was not even born then. Of course, she is not old, and is full of energy. She gave stickers to Nisha and Shivani - something new to them as they have not yet started playing and messing with them. They will have plenty in days to come.

Going back to my first school and Chhoti Bai, I did visit the school after half a century. There was no Chhoti Bai. The school looked small - or I had grown up. But my memories of the first school, and the first teacher, are still fresh.

My one regret: I could not locate and meet Chhoti Bai whose kind face I can still recall from memory. I lived in Indore 1983-85 as Chief Editor of Dainik Bhaskar, wrote an article about those Dhundhali Yaaden (Blurred Memories) mentioning Chhoti Bai. However, I could find no time, no definite clues to meet with and go down the memory lane with my first teacher about my first days, weeks and months at my first school.

Hope Nisha-Shivani will have better luck as they grow older, succeed in their profession and life and still want to go back to their first school and teachers. It is a feeling nothing can replace or make you forget.