one kiss

when i was 9 and a half (back in the days when "a half" mattered), on the last day of class in fifth grade in our all-girls school our class teacher announced that we were to line up infront of her and approach her one by one. we lined up promptly - unsure of the reason. but when you are 9 (and a half) you don't question authority [and if, unluckily for you, you are born meek, you don't question authority ever].

she beckoned to the first girl in line and she went forward with timid, measured steps, a hero already for having taken the plunge ahead of all of us. what she got at the end of slow approach was a swift kiss on the cheek. she turned around, almost guilty and completely embarrassed, quickly moving out of the line and back to her seat. the next girl walked a little faster having the comfort of perfect information. as did the rest of us. one by one. and every one of us received with grace a quick kiss goodbye from rabia apa - a teacher who had not been particularly bon vivant during the school year, nor had she seemed to like us any worse or any better than the other class teachers we had had before. we were puzzled and confused. and yet, none of us sniggered or giggled like 9 or 10 year old girls will at such occasions. we understood and felt in that moment some unexplained gravity.

raised in a culture almost proud of nondemonstrative love/affection, this one kiss marked me for life.