Hello, my name is Morning

For the first month of school, before I bought my motorcycle, I rode to school with my mentor, Thilaga, and her children. Her son is in one of my Form Two classes, and her niece, who lives with them, is in Form Three. Unfortunately, I do not teach her grade level. Every morning, I would enter the car and exchange greetings. “Good morning!” “Good morning, teacher.” It became a standard procedure. Every morning, “Good morning.”

On our way to school, we would drop Kishira, her daughter, who is almost two years old, at the babysitter’s house. And in the afternoon, we would swing by the babysitter’s house to pick her up. After a few weeks, Kishira started saying “Morning!” when we picked her up. Smart girl, I thought, knowing that Good Morning is a greeting often used. “Good afternoon” we would try to correct her, to no avail.

Eventually my motorcycle was inspected, fixed up, and ready for me to ride. Since then, I have not seen Kishira very often. Only on special occasions, like going to the Indian coming-of-age ceremony, or when she comes with Thilaga to badminton with Kishan and Jeevetha. However, this past weekend I saw her a lot.

I saw her when Thilaga stopped by my house to pick up forms for my English Camp last Wednesday. I saw her on Friday when I meet them at a restaurant near my home and joined the whole family for tea. I saw her on Saturday and Sunday when she and Prasad, the father, came to my English Camp. And again later on Sunday when we went to Temple for the Hindu New Year.

“Morning!” she would say. “Good afternoon,” I replied. Yet then I realized, she kept saying “good morning,” even when I had been with her for a period of time. Turns out, she’s been calling me by my name the whole time!



At tea on Friday, I got lime juice. As Kishira was sitting with me, naturally she wanted some. I told her “no” as she had already finished her drink, but she proceeded to scream “MORNING!!!!” until I gave her some.

At my camp, she was given a sheet of paper but needed a pen. I didn’t have one at the time and had to finish giving directions to my students so I couldn’t look for one. The next thing I know, I hear “Morning! MORNing! MORNING!!!” until I turn around and she sweetly says “pen”.



At the Hindu Temple, I was talking to my roommate’s student and mother, but Kishira wanted me to come stand with her and Thilaga. So I hear “Morning, come.”

The morning has always been my favorite time of the day, so I suppose it’s better than being called “Afternoon” or “Night”. Soon enough, I’ll get her to say my real name! For now, it’s super cute.