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School Owner*

It’s 5:04 on a Saturday morning, the azaan from our neighbourhood mosque fills the bedroom and melds with the welcome, rhythmic breathing of my sleeping family to form an orchestra of sounds. Pleasant. Peaceful. My eyes move from one tousled head to the other and I start typing faster, afraid I may not be able to meet this deadline or craft all the emails I need to before the day really begins. Not that I am dreading it. In fact, my new normal is lazier, happier and more intellectually adventurous than usual. These days I sleep with plush toys on the bed, and wake up in a tangle of legs and arms. I spend the time in between lazing on the couch with my two-year old, judging models of Lego cars with great command for my 8-year old, looking up recipes in Ella’s cookbook that never materialise because we’re already too tired by the time we decide on one, watching our favourite Disney movies, exploring all kinds of art from finger painting to Mondrian, discussing cloud shapes till it’s become an art form, exploring religions of the world, and reading books I never thought I’d get to read.

I’ve also cleaned, mopped and dusted every possible corner of the house, while simultaneously debating the pros and cons of cleaning agents with my husband. Between us, we’ve orchestrated a beautiful set of household cleaning moves - seamlessly managing the various stages like a well-practiced ballet performance. During these performances, we’ve discussed everything under the sun - from our current existential and economic crisis in pandemic-infused quarantine to extensive debates around college admission essays to mild concern about dog poop in the garden.

I’ve spent countless hours researching digital education, and watching videos of turtles eating lettuce on live cams with my kids. I’ve taken augmented reality photos with all google 3D animals, along with my family. I’ve read biographies of naturalists, studied snails, and held ‘important’ meetings about animal cruelty. I’ve been super sparing with worksheet printing because I’m terrified we’ll run out of paper. I’m ceaselessly sharpening pencils and minds, and erasing mistakes. And all the time, I’m waging an unheard war in my head because I have to keep reminding myself this is not supposed to be the best time of my life. That right now, as I laugh with my child, someone else’s is fighting for their life. As I debate options for my table, someone sleeps hungry. As I watch sunsets and sunrises with my family, someone has lost all sense of time and happiness. And that is my biggest regret. That in the midst of illness and death, I’m in a constant state of life. My life is slower, deeper and more full of wonder than ever. And I need to step back to see the bigger picture, but right now, in this moment, my world is so beautifully unhurried, I feel I can’t let go just yet.

* The writer heads a primary school in Karachi, Pakistan