I’ve always had ambivalent feelings about mist since. Beautiful yes, but also chilling; and there’s nothing ambivalent about my feeling for school bags—I still hate the damn things. The sensation of setting off from home seemed final. I’m not sure if I cried; I don’t think I did, I was too terrified. Walking uphill to the school, a mean climb, I don’t remember if Baba and I talked, but he must have said something to me. Even though he was a man of very few words, there must have been a time when we talked to each other.
