When a person wants to unshackle from bondage, barriers and fences can only stop him physically, for his mind is already set free when he decided to unshackle. Such was the case with Kamlesh. Sitting next to the window grills, his mind had already left the class-room. Class IV A, room number 403. His mind was in the cloudy dark sky. Seeing the lightnings form. It started coming down with the rain drops, all the way down till they hit the edge of the asbestos roof, and then split into a thousand drops. Some hitting the window pane, some hitting the ground, and others making the grasses look greener.
With his mind, his eyes also spiraled down from the black sky to the concrete floor. His tongue instinctively touching the broken front teeth, which had got banged on the floor last week. Of course, he was proud of it. Cos, he had made Laxman's nose also bleed that day. And more importantly, he hadn't cried. At least not till he had reached home. The dull monotony of the English poems was only broken by the occasional lightning and the steady downpour. He wanted to reach out his hand and feel the drops in his palms, but, then the teacher would scold, so, he kept them in. Inside his pockets.
He was waiting for the bell to ring. To go for recess. To go and get wet in the rain, when suddenly he heard the teacher call out his name. "Kamlesh, Kamlesh. The principal wants to meet you". And Hari the peon was standing next to the teacher. To take him to the principal's room.
"What does the principal want from me? He has never called me before. Is it because I got D in 4 subjects? Yes that must be the reason", Kamlesh thought. He had heard a lot about the principal's anger, especially at those children who don't study properly. Walking on the corridor, behind Hari, Kamlesh could feel the sweat dripping from his palms. Hitting the ground, much like the rain drops. Suddenly, he realized how dark it was, outside the class, like the darkness in his thoughts. Yash had been to the principal's room some days back. And he had come out crying. And he had not spoken for the whole day, only sobbing, sitting silently in his place. His knees and hands had thin red lines. Were they the marks of a cane? "Hari Uncle. How many canes do you get for a D?" he asked. He didn't get a response.
"What if he tells me to kneel down in his room? What if Laxman sees me? He would surely go and tell everyone. Who would want to talk to me then? How can someone even talk to a student who gets punished by the principal. I don't talk to Yash". These thoughts brought tears in his eyes. He wiped them off with his sweaty palms and entered into the principal’s room. There he was sitting. The bald man. In the big revolving chair. To his left, on the shelf were all the trophies won by the school. He remembered the football trophy which the school won last year. The others were just a blur. Behind his chair was Mahatma Gandhi and chacha Nehru's photo. With the cap and the bright red rose. "Chacha Nehru liked children so much. If he had been our principal, he would never cane anybody", Kamlesh thought, holding back his tears, wiping away the sweat from his hands and almost extending them. Waiting for the canes to come and rip his skin.
Right at that time, he saw uncle Kishore, standing to the right of the principal. "Beta, is this your uncle?”, he heard the principal's booming voice. And Kamlesh nodded in consent. "Ok. He is here to take you home. Your parents met with a small accident and they are in the hospital. Don't worry. Nothing serious. They will be back home in the evening. Now, pack your bags and go home with uncle". Kamlesh suddenly realized that he wasn't getting punished. And he wouldn't be sitting for the English and Maths class too. He could also go out in Kishore uncle's car. In this rain. A smile came to his face, only to be broken by the thoughts of his parents in hospital. And those long held tears burst out from Kamlesh’s eyes.
With his mind, his eyes also spiraled down from the black sky to the concrete floor. His tongue instinctively touching the broken front teeth, which had got banged on the floor last week. Of course, he was proud of it. Cos, he had made Laxman's nose also bleed that day. And more importantly, he hadn't cried. At least not till he had reached home. The dull monotony of the English poems was only broken by the occasional lightning and the steady downpour. He wanted to reach out his hand and feel the drops in his palms, but, then the teacher would scold, so, he kept them in. Inside his pockets.
He was waiting for the bell to ring. To go for recess. To go and get wet in the rain, when suddenly he heard the teacher call out his name. "Kamlesh, Kamlesh. The principal wants to meet you". And Hari the peon was standing next to the teacher. To take him to the principal's room.
"What does the principal want from me? He has never called me before. Is it because I got D in 4 subjects? Yes that must be the reason", Kamlesh thought. He had heard a lot about the principal's anger, especially at those children who don't study properly. Walking on the corridor, behind Hari, Kamlesh could feel the sweat dripping from his palms. Hitting the ground, much like the rain drops. Suddenly, he realized how dark it was, outside the class, like the darkness in his thoughts. Yash had been to the principal's room some days back. And he had come out crying. And he had not spoken for the whole day, only sobbing, sitting silently in his place. His knees and hands had thin red lines. Were they the marks of a cane? "Hari Uncle. How many canes do you get for a D?" he asked. He didn't get a response.
"What if he tells me to kneel down in his room? What if Laxman sees me? He would surely go and tell everyone. Who would want to talk to me then? How can someone even talk to a student who gets punished by the principal. I don't talk to Yash". These thoughts brought tears in his eyes. He wiped them off with his sweaty palms and entered into the principal’s room. There he was sitting. The bald man. In the big revolving chair. To his left, on the shelf were all the trophies won by the school. He remembered the football trophy which the school won last year. The others were just a blur. Behind his chair was Mahatma Gandhi and chacha Nehru's photo. With the cap and the bright red rose. "Chacha Nehru liked children so much. If he had been our principal, he would never cane anybody", Kamlesh thought, holding back his tears, wiping away the sweat from his hands and almost extending them. Waiting for the canes to come and rip his skin.
Right at that time, he saw uncle Kishore, standing to the right of the principal. "Beta, is this your uncle?”, he heard the principal's booming voice. And Kamlesh nodded in consent. "Ok. He is here to take you home. Your parents met with a small accident and they are in the hospital. Don't worry. Nothing serious. They will be back home in the evening. Now, pack your bags and go home with uncle". Kamlesh suddenly realized that he wasn't getting punished. And he wouldn't be sitting for the English and Maths class too. He could also go out in Kishore uncle's car. In this rain. A smile came to his face, only to be broken by the thoughts of his parents in hospital. And those long held tears burst out from Kamlesh’s eyes.
(The idea for this story was given by my friend Nag)
