Reborn in 2013: From Schoolgirl to Pandemic Heiress

I took a deep breath and knocked on the principal's door.

"This is it," I whispered to myself. The door opened, and we were ushered inside by the vice principal. Principal ma'am was already seated, looking calm but serious.

"Good evening," I said, trying not to let my voice shake.

"Come in," she said. "You asked for this meeting, so let's hear what you have to say."

I turned slightly, making eye contact with Nishanth, Computer Sir, and my class teacher, who had come in just behind us. It gave me confidence that I wasn't alone.

As I stepped into the principal's office, my eyes instinctively scanned the space. The desk was broad, polished, and neatly organized, but it only had two chairs in front. Vice Principal ma'am sat on the other side, behind a partition that visually cut the space in half. It felt cramped, too formal, too official.

Just outside, I had noticed the meeting room—spacious, with a long boardroom table, enough chairs for everyone, and most importantly, a projector mounted overhead. I hesitated for a second and then turned to the principal.

"Ma'am," I said politely, "would it be okay if we continued this meeting in the meeting room instead?"

The Principal raised an eyebrow. "Why? What's the need to move?"

"I prepared a presentation, ma'am," I said, motioning to the laptop Computer Sir was carrying. "Nishanth and I came up with this idea—not just to pursue something we enjoy as a hobby, but to build a space where we can exchange ideas, talents, and creativity. We want to show you exactly what we've done so far… and what we plan to do."

Vice Principal ma'am looked mildly interested. "You made a presentation?"

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. It'll be easier to explain with visuals, and with more people present now—me, Nishanth, Computer Sir, our class teacher—it would be more comfortable in the meeting room."

Principal ma'am paused, clearly weighing it in her mind. Then she stood. "Alright. Let's move."

I breathed a silent thank you and followed them down the corridor. The meeting room felt more formal, but also oddly empowering. Like we were stepping into something big—something that had the potential to shape the rest of our school year.

Computer Sir quickly connected the laptop to the projector. The screen blinked to life with the opening slide:

"STUDENT VOICE: A School Magazine Proposal"—white background, bold letters, simple but clear.

I took a deep breath.

"Good afternoon," I began. "First, thank you for allowing us this opportunity. Over the past few weeks, I've been observing and recording moments, stories, and voices around the school. What started as simple curiosity grew into something bigger—an idea."

There was a slight pause. They looked at each other, then back at me. I took it as my cue to go on.

"In my time here, I always felt our school was filled with creative students—artists, writers, poets, photographers. But their work stays inside notebooks, or with their friends. What if we had a platform to share those voices?"

I clicked to the next slide.

"This magazine will be a place where we publish student-written articles, essays, poems, artwork, and even monthly updates about school events. We will have columns in English, Tamil, and Hindi. It'll be a bilingual or even trilingual initiative."

I clicked to the next slide: "Why a School Magazine?"

"There's so much talent here—writers, artists, dancers, musicians, photographers. But there's no platform to preserve it or share it consistently. We wanted to create something where students could express themselves, improve, and inspire each other."

Vice Principal ma'am leaned forward. "So this is a student-led initiative?"

"Yes, ma'am. With guidance from staff, of course. We plan to publish both print and digital editions. The print version will be limited—just enough for display and staff copies. The digital version can be shared on school intranet or PDF."

The next few slides showed a breakdown of content:

Monthly themes

Student articles, poems, interviews

Event coverage (like the recent Freshers Day)

Art, photography, short fiction

A teacher's corner for monthly messages

Nishanth stepped in at this point. "We've already started working on the first edition. Nila wrote twenty articles—event coverage, student interviews, even how the staff helped students during Freshers Day. I've edited and prepared images, and worked on formatting a rough digital version."

Nishanth added, "We'll also include photography, event coverage, creative illustrations. We're keeping it open so every kind of student can feel involved—writers, coders, artists, and even those who are just learning."

Computer Sir added, "They've done all of this over a single weekend. And they've done it well."

I clicked to the slide that showcased sample content—neatly formatted article titles, photo thumbnails, and quotes pulled from interviews with teachers and students.

Our class teacher, who had been silent so far, finally spoke. "I had no idea they were this far along. I assumed it was still just in the idea stage."

I smiled. "We didn't want to approach anyone until we had something concrete. This is just a pilot—if we get approval, we'll launch our first edition next month."

Slide five—monthly plan.

"We will have monthly themes—August will be about 'Amirtha Varshini', September for 'Cultural Stories-vinayaga jayanthi special', October for 'Gandhi Jayanthi-Indian patriotism', and so on. We'll tie it to school activities and national events."

Vice Principal ma'am flipped through a few printed pages we had brought as samples. "The writing is impressive. And this level of initiative... it's rare."

Principal ma'am leaned back. "What kind of support do you need from us?"

I clicked to the final slide: "What We Need"

Official permission to publish monthly

One mentor/teacher to review articles

Printing help (for display copies)

A small slot in the timetable for student contributors (once approved)

Computer Sir explained, "The cost per print copy will be minimal. We plan to start with limited circulation—10 to 20 copies for the library, staffroom, and display boards. If it grows popular, we can scale. Most work is student-done, so the cost is low."

"And of course," I added, "we're happy to adjust or refine anything based on your feedback."

Principal ma'am leaned back. "Do you know how many students come here asking permission to start clubs and events without doing even half this work?"

I stayed silent, fingers tight on my dupatta.

She continued, "I like the initiative. I like that you took responsibility. But managing a magazine needs dedication."

"I understand, ma'am. We've already divided the work, and we'll take help from other students too once approved. We're also ready for a trial period."

There was a pause.

There was a moment of complete silence.

Then the Principal finally spoke.

"Who gave you the idea for this?" she asked.

I smiled. "Niahanth and I, ma'am. Writing is something I've always loved. I wanted to do something that involved the whole school."

Vice Principal sir added, "You've already completed all this?"

"Yes, ma'am," Nishanth replied. "We didn't want to come empty-handed."

Then the Principal smiled—slightly, but enough to make my heart skip. "You've put in a lot of thought and effort."

Vice Principal ma'am added, "If this is maintained with the same quality and responsibility, it could be a highlight for our school."

I nodded, trying to stay calm. "We'll make sure it is."

Principal ma'am closed the folder. "Alright. You have our permission for a trial run. The first edition—digital and limited print. We'll review it before final release."

I couldn't stop the grin that escaped me. I nodded quickly. "Thank you, ma'am. We won't disappoint you."

Nishanth gave me a small thumbs-up.

"And," Principal ma'am added, "every article must be reviewed by a teacher-in-charge before final print. Choose a responsible mentor."

"Yes, ma'am," I said immediately. "Our computer sir has already agreed to guide us."

She nodded again, and just like that, the meeting was done.

As we stepped out of the room, the rush hit me—not adrenaline. Pride. Excitement.

"I can't believe they said yes," Nishanth whispered.

"I can," I said softly. "We earned it."

We walked back to the corridor. I took my bag from Harini, who was already curious and wide-eyed.

"What happened?" she asked, running to catch up.

I just smiled. "We have a school magazine now."

She squealed, and I knew this was only the beginning.

The dream was real now. Not in a secret notebook. Not in a corner of my brain.

Real. Approved. And coming soon.