To majority of people, vacation seems to be an escape from the torments of this world. And you might know what those torments are, and if studying all day long doesn’t appear as a torment for you then you might as well need a check-up.

Months before the vacation begins, you probably start counting the days and nights on your fingers, waiting for this ‘heavenly’ period of your life to begin. Mind you, it is you that I am talking about and not me, for my perceptions regarding vacations greatly differ from yours.

I do not see them as a celebration at the end of a tiresome year at school but a trap in which I fall every year, regardless of being aware of the fact that it is always there to catch me. Some might think me a lunatic; calling vacations a trap, but my innocent self has gone through such turmoil for the past few years that I find it hard to cope with vacations.

I have my own reasons for this loathing for I do not go on tours like many of you, nor do I visit places with family or friends but I sit indoors and sulk all day. To be precise, with the arrival of a vacation, the enjoyments in my life vaporise into the air. And I am not granted a chance to spend too many hours on social media. And if I accidentally do, then God help me, for a tsunami of lectures strikes and ruins the rest of my day.

And so at the end of the summer term, it’s just me and the vacation trap, closing in on me, squeezing the breath out of my lungs and leaving me almost a lifeless body. This strange condition developed in me years ago and I call it ‘vacation phobia’.

Oh yes, it is the fear of vacations that I am talking about and not the fear of spiders or cockroaches or even rats. Whilst you count the days and nights on your fingers for the vacation to begin, I, on the other hand, cross the days on my calendar, fearing the end of the joys of my life. To my utmost disappointment, it is a fact that the seconds you enjoy the most in life pass by like a galloping horse, leaving you in a state of confusion and regret.

And so my freedom ends with the arrival of vacation for then I must roll up my sleeves and set to work, while I dolefully miss the days when I had been spared from work for the sake of studies. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t had such a big house to sweep and such a huge amount of things to dust, but that’s me being ungrateful again. However, I can bet that the endless chores would have remained endless, whether the house is big or small.

The arrival of the summer vacation means forgetting your tense-free life for two whole months, 61 days to be precise and 1464 hours to be exact in which minutes and seconds tick by at such a slow pace that the tiresome day ends with me lying flat on the floor and mother fanning me and sprinkling water on my face for the sake of my revival.

However, I will try to remain positive, expecting the two months to have some mercy on me, hoping that somehow, just somehow, every passing minute wouldn’t wipe out my life’s bliss.

Published in Dawn, Young World June 10th, 2017