School Memories: Days That Will Never Be Forgotten

It was beautiful and pleasant; we walked down the street with measured steps. It was around ten in the morning. The scene was captivating and worth watching; the market was crowded and lively. Everyone was happily shopping. One person was choosing a carpet, another dishes, another curtains, and other household items. Some were buying fruit, while others were buying clothes. Their preparations showed that they were ready to welcome this year’s Eid. There were children carrying books, making their way toward university entrance exam preparation classes. They had completed twelve years of schooling, meaning they had graduated from school, and they wanted to take the university entrance examination that year and enter university. Everyone was busy.

My two friends and I had just finished our course and were sharing sweet stories. The road was long too. Slowly, raindrops began to dampen the ground. The rain seemed to grow sorrowful; it did not want to witness this happiness and began to turn into a storm. When the storm began, we continued on our way without stopping. Suddenly, panic could be seen all along the street. People were running and searching for shelter, just like those moments when the government changed and people panicked, desperately searching for a safe place. Without having umbrellas, we continued walking. One of my friends held her book over her head so that it would not get wet, while the other hid her books beneath her chador because she loved reading and loved having books. It was just like those days when girls were being gathered up and all the girls had hidden inside their homes.

We had reached the point where I had to say goodbye and continue the rest of the journey alone. I said goodbye to them and remembered the friends who had accompanied me halfway along my journey, one by one leaving me alone and disappearing from my life. I never saw them again. The rain was very heavy. I wanted to travel along this road by car; I wanted to get into a vehicle so I would not get wet. But suddenly, I changed my mind and began walking down the road.

I looked at the street as the rainwater washed away the dirt, leaving everything clean. It was as though the people of my country wanted this government to leave so they could have a better life. Looking at the street and the rain reminded me of the day when it was our final year at school. My friends and I used to walk in the rain just to get wet, and we loved getting soaked. After they left, I no longer enjoyed getting wet. But today, being drenched gave me a good feeling. I wanted to talk to the rain, so I began telling it stories about my own retirement and how I had been spending my days.

I was lost in those stories and memories when I saw a little girl who could not cross the deep water and needed help. I took her in my arms and helped her. She was wet too, but she was very frightened. She was alone. I asked her, “Beautiful girl, which way is your home?” She replied, “Up that way.” I said, “Then come, you and I will walk together.” So, beneath the rain, I continued along the road with her.

She said, “My name is Narges. I have a friend named Zahra. She didn’t come today. Otherwise, the two of us come to school together every day and go home together. She is a halfway friend.”

I said, “I have many halfway friends too.”

She told me more about the argument she was having over sitting in the front row of the classroom. It reminded me of my own school days and brought back my school memories—the time when my friend and I used to argue over the front row during the morning assembly. Sometimes both of us would be punished, but we never stopped arguing about it. I laughed and told her that arguments between friends are completely normal.

She said, “This is my street. I have to go down this street.”

I said goodbye to her. She had refreshed all my school memories. Slowly, a lump tightened in my throat, and tears began to fill my eyes. I held back those tears and told myself that those days would never happen again, because they had already passed. They had become a source of strength for me, and I could continue my journey without them.

Saying these words and going over them in my mind brought me some peace. I was completely soaked. I think sometimes we need to refresh our memories beneath the rain, because the rain carries away all our sorrows and grief. You only need to be honest with yourself when telling your own story.