A fortnight ago, I was at the Rishi Valley School, near Madanapalle, in Andhra Pradesh. My wife Rajashi and I had gone to admit our younger son, Rishiraj (11), there. Elder son, Rituraj (15), has been studying there since 2003. He was also returning to school after the summer vacation.
After 15 years, our house is now without children. After Rituraj joined RV, Rajashi and I had become even more emotionally attached to Rishiraj (aka Chotu). We are like ghosts or zombies floating through our lives, shell-shocked, distraught!
Sending one's children away - to live with that one becomes hard-hearted. The moment the thought or remembrance arises, triggered by anything, one kills it, for to let it enter the system and bring on the grief is unendurable. One steels oneself aginst this, and tries instead to think of all the good that this school is doing for the children, what a beautiful place it is.