Class 5 Girl friend &movie

I was late to my school. Carrying all the books of class V in my unusually big school bag, I hurriedly entered into the classroom.  

I heaved a sigh of relief as the class teacher had not arrived yet.

But my delayed and nervous entry into the class room made my class mates burst into a roaring laughter. A girl-student of my class that day had promptly and sarcastically commented, “Silence friends, in a hurry our class-monitor has come straight from his bed without washing his face. It is not good to laugh at somebody’s problem.” I felt a little insulted and looked at her angrily. But that day my angry looks had turned into great surprise when my eyes detected an extremely cute girl sitting beside my taunting critic.

That cute girl was obviously a new comer. Her bob-cut hair (the name of that hair style was of course unknown to me at that time), dangling ear rings, a unique t-shirt which did not match our school uniform, all sent waves of some strong hitherto unknown emotions into my whole-being. Something flashed in me. I wanted to be smarter suddenly. I wanted to show my cleverness immediately before that new girl. And I had a rejoinder to the comment, “Oh my dear Grandmother! First tell me why you came here (to the class room) without giving me water to wash my face. “

My reply caused a flicker of smile on that lovely face. Perhaps that smile had first made me understand the dictionary meaning of the word, “Beautiful”. I was invariably a good student but that day I switched to the best in me. Throughout the class I felt extremely energetic, smart and super attentive due to some strange reason. I strongly wanted to talk to that girl. It was irresistible. It became unbearable after two periods in the school. The mere sight of her quickened my heartbeat. At the end of second period when the teacher went to another class, I went near her. She was little bit unprepared for that. I was equally confused but I spoke to her in English only to impress her. Neither was that language my mother-tongue nor I had the slightest ability to speak English. But I spoke because I had to be different from others. I madly wanted to be unique in her eyes. Many things happened in me simultaneously but I was not able to understand what was happening to me.

With the last bell of the school, everyone of my class started capering happily in the joy of freedom and at the thought of home-coming. But I was the only boy who was terribly sad. I was sad because with the end of the school hours, my proximity with the girl was about to end. I felt heavy. The smartness of the class disappeared and I was on the verge of crying. With some deep pain I departed from her and consoled myself that tomorrow at the school time once again I could see her.

In home I was so different. All the time her face appeared before my eyes. I remembered her smile, her bob-cut hairstyle, dangling ear rings, her unique t-shirt, etc.  I derived an extra-ordinary elation whenever I thought about her but I failed to understand what I wanted.

In the evening my parents were watching a movie on TV. I never liked movies because most movies would cause me cry. I watched movies only when there was that characteristic Dhisoom…Dhassam (fight) between characters. But that day something different happened to me.  I saw a man holding the hand of a woman and slowly and slowly going near her. The woman closed her eyes and the man touched her lips with his lips. Suddenly something electric happened in me. I could suddenly understand the deep bond between the pair. I sat silently with my parents and started watching the movie. In the commercial breaks the name of the movie flashed and I remember the name of that movie was ‘Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak’.

In the end of the movie the woman dies and the man also dies but the deep bond in them slowly and slowly entered into my understanding. I took my meal with my father silently. I went to bed but I could not sleep. I thought about that classmate girl and I thought about the strong friendship between the man and woman. I thought and thought and thought and finally wished to have a strong friendship with that girl as I had viewed in the movie.

Next morning in school……….

Arohan- The Ascend

Dark clouds had covered the sky. The moon and the stars had hidden their faces & a dark night was ruling all over. The entire world slumbered on, unaware of what is happening.

But Raman, a school teacher, was sitting thoughtfully in the feeble light of a half-finished candle. His life was exactly like the half-burnt candle which struggled hard against the dark forces of nature.

In the dimly lit low thatched hut his one-month old son was sleeping by his mother after drawing a stomach full of milk. The sleeping mother and the sleeping child radiated an aura of trust in Raman’s fatherhood. But he was a wanderer in the labyrinth of uncertainties.

Raman looked admiringly at his wife. She was a wonderful women. Since the day she married him she had to live life in serials, installments and a meager salary of a school teacher. However, god had always been gracious enough to fetch them all the basic amenities of life. The thing that hurt Raman most was that he had neither any bank balance nor any security for a stable family life. His life was uncertain and unpredictable like weather.

He had always felt an enormous urge to emerge as a national leader who will bring revolutions and reformations in the society he lived. He had the ability to speak like a great orator but he had never found the necessary support and platform to blossom. Time elapsed year by year and like a candle he burnt and his light was limited only to a small village school.

This night when the cloud was the thickest and the night was the darkest, he came out of his little hut. He spread his hands and looked upward with a prayerful heart. He imagined himself to be a venerated leader. He could imagine a great mass following him. He forgot all his frustrations. He forgot his poverty. He forgot his littleness and imagined himself as a great authority who had shaped a new world where prevailed peace, prosperity and happiness. He resigned himself to the divine will. It was still dark. He started climbing up the nearby hill with his arms widely spread and the mind intoxicated with a divine frenzy. He got to the top of the hill. He prayed for the power and wisdom of the almighty. He felt a strange oneness with all the trees that look like shadows in the darkness. He felt the oneness with the rocks that stood unmoved. The night whispered in veneration recognizing his presence. The clouds congregated saluting his divine aspiration and a lightning flashed as a new hope in the midst of utter despair. He felt the communion of the almighty consoling his bleeding heart. His mind and body calmed. He felt an inward peace. The insecurities of life evaporated from his mind like the morning mist. His fervent prayers returned to him as the eternal goodness of love and humanity. He felt within himself the spirit of world teacher and felt to be above all mundane things.

He returned to his hut again and saw a beatific smile flickering across the face of his sleeping son lying by his wife. And the candle still burning and spreading its light and warmth with a renewed conviction.

a growth in my absence

After a tiresome journey of 30 hours I reached at Baliapal. I washed my hands to take my son into my lap. But he was busy in sucking his mother’s milk. I could not disturb him. So I waited looking at him and his mother.

After a few minutes, curling and stretching the limbs in half sleepy state my son welcomed me. He looked little matured and smelt like antibiotic tablets. When I asked my wife why the baby smells so medicated, she told that the baby is taking multivitamin drops. I felt relaxed. At least the perceived effect has a cause known to us. I say it because it is often too difficult to determine the right causes of the various types of behavior patterns of the baby.

Today he lifted and moved his hands in all possible directions but as he had little control on his body parts, the movements of his hands and legs trembled like that of a person who is too old. I intently looked at the movement of the baby and the expression on his face. It seemed as if he had to struggle hard to adjust with the hostile environment.

A baby so understanding

Under the shade of a jack fruit tree we were talking in a group. My flow of speech broke when my attention was captured by a mother and a baby staring from her lap. All of a sudden the baby refreshed the memory of my son. I wanted to hold the baby in my arms purely out of fatherly love. 

The mother of that baby was from the labour class. She had come to join in the construction work that was going on in our college campus. She was carrying a tiffin box in one hand and the baby in the other. I was astonished and asked her, "with the baby how can you manage the work at the construction site?" she smiled and replied, " Babu, it is no problem. The baby plays or sleeps under the tree shade while I work. " The simplicity and the spontaneity of the answer amazed me. 

The poverty & vicissitudes of life have made the baby so understanding that from the early age the baby has become co-operative to the elders who have their relentless compulsions to sell labour even during maternity.

"Bloody Rascals"

I was vehemently opposing their planning to go on a picnic and they stood like rocks, obstinate in their demands. They stood in a group of 100 students and I stood beside my principal negating the very idea of organizing a picnic when the examination was on head. I asked them about their preparedness for the up-coming examination but they did little value my words of counsel. For them I was just a jar of cold water on the heat of their teen-age enthusiasm.


A girl student from the group strongly asserted that going picnic was inevitable. The more they became obstinate, the harsher I became in my dealings. However, the strict admonishments ended the planning of going out in a fiasco but it generated terrible temperature among the all the teen-aged students. They thought me as their enemy who nipped their flowers of love and romance at the budding stage.

I returned home, prayed God. I asked for divine guidance to show me the right course of action and went to bed. The next day the student unrest took another shape. With a long list of my failures as a teacher, the students encircled the principal and asked for justice. The list had mainly highlighted two words, “BLOODY RASCALS”, which I had used that day when I saw the students very obstinately insistent upon organizing a picnic when the exams were at hand.