It was the moment Raj was waiting for all week. The final exams were over and very soon he would have two months of vacation. He and his friends were excited as it was the time they would all go back to their homes.
Raj read through his father's letter again. "I shall come on Thursday the 19th of March to pick you up if I reach in time and we shall take the train back to Bombay on the 21st. If the train is late and I can't reach the boarding school hostel before the gates shut, don't worry, I shall come by nine on Friday morning. We shall stay with Ammava and then go back to Bombay! Everyone is very eager to see you again. Latha and Venu are very excited and Amma and I haven't stopped talking about your return."
Raj folded the letter and put it away in a drawer where he kept all the letters he received. He tried to remember all the places he wanted to go and play around their building in Bombay. It was a bit difficult as so many months had passed since he came to school and he hadn't been home throughout the academic year.
He tried to think of a way to get his parents to agree that he stay back in Bombay, not just for the vacations. True he liked the school and his friends but his heart kept longing for home. He predicted with sadness that they would refuse and then tried to think up a Plan B where he could convince them to at least let him visit during the 3-week-long mid-term vacations.
He went back to the speech that he was writing for the Final week celebrations. Through the year he had participated in many elocution competitions and had realised that he was very good at putting his thoughts on paper.
He had been noticed by the teachers and one of them had suggested that he participate in the celebrations with a speech about how his first year at boarding school had been and why he was looking forward to the next year. He wrote down some paragraphs and read them again.
He smirked at how false they sounded. He thought of erasing them and starting over again but he knew that this speech that sounded upbeat would be appreciated more than a sob story. He continued writing without hesitation.
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