The summer vacations had ended, and my exam results were out. As usual, I had scored very well in my exams. Just like every year, I had secured the first position in my class. I was thrilled to move to the fifth grade, excited about getting new books, pencils, a bag, shoes, and having fun with all my friends. However, when I returned home from school on June 16, I learned that my father had lost his job, and now he would have to find a new one.

In our family of five – my two elder brothers, mother, father, and myself – the responsibility of running the household rested solely on my father's shoulders. He had to bring home the groceries, take care of our education, and manage everything at home. So, with the news of his job loss, I wondered how our financial situation would be sustained. When my parents discussed it with us, they mentioned that there was a job opportunity in my uncle's village, and the salary offered was decent. So, my parents decided that we would move there, and all three of us siblings would continue our education there.

Two days after this decision, we all went to live in my uncle's village. My father started his new job, and the focus shifted to our education. At that time, I was in the fifth grade, while my brothers were in the tenth and twelfth grades. Since their schools were different, we had to enroll in a new school for me.

When my mother inquired about the local government school, my aunt suggested that admitting me to a private school, "Kasturba Gandhi Vidyalaya," would be a better option, as the education quality was not good in the government school. So, my mother took me to the private Hindi medium school. Now, I was enrolled in that school.

When I started going to school, on the first day, everything felt quite strange. The school I had come from was much larger. The classrooms were big, and there were around 60-70 students per class. In contrast, this new school was quite small. The classrooms were also small, and there were no desks – we had to sit on mats. Each class had no more than 15-20 students, which felt odd to me. The most significant difference was that all the teachers at my previous school were married, but here, none of the teachers were married. It made me think that they were just kids themselves, and I wondered what they could teach us.

Another peculiar thing was that this village was different from the one I came from. I had grown up in a city, and the dialect used by the children in this village was unfamiliar to me. One day, during lunch, a girl brought a dish made with okra, and when I asked her what dish it was, she said, "ramkeliya," which I couldn't understand.

As I gradually adapted to their environment, I learned their language, and now I speak Chhattisgarhi fluently. All these experiences were a result of attending that school.