Last Day at School

Little Karthik was a big man now. It was his last day before the summer holidays. And it was raining cats and dogs! After the last class, his Miss gave them all a little chit that proclaimed the commencement of the much awaited holidays. He could not believe it was 8 months since he had started going to school. Well, not exactly. It was actually a nursery meant for pre-schoolers. As he waited under the sun-shade near the gates for his mother to come and pick him up, he was lost in reminiscence, looking at the fierce droplets of water falling from the sky above.

It had rained similarly on his first day as well. Oh, it seemed like yesterday - his first day of school. He was made to brush his teeth and was dressed in crisp, new shirt by his mother. There it was! A pair of shining new shoes. He felt great in his new dress. He was sure school was going to be a great place to be. He felt big to be carrying a bag, his first true possession,which, he assumed was equivalent to his father's briefcase that he wasn't allowed to fiddle with. He also had a water bottle - cum - tiffin box and a napkin pinned to his pocket. His mother had taken him to the class. The sight of that many children scared him a bit. The fact that they were all crying did not make matters any better. Tears welled up in his eyes and started dropping down his chubby cheeks. His mother was startled. He was asked what was wrong. The question seemed absurd to him. He just replied that he was crying becauses others were doing so, and if all others were crying, something ought to be wrong. That was 8 months ago. That memory brought a smile to his face today. He wondered how immature and childish he was! In any case, he decided that past was past.

He must now think about the future. His father had told that he had to go to school first, then college and then if he studied well, he would get a job. He had gone to school. One task done.!!He resolved that he should do better at college the next year and get a good job the year after next. Then, he too would be old enough to ride a real motorbike.

His mother had not come yet. He did not know how to read a clock yet - he could not tell how much time had passed since his teacher left him. He assumed that the rain was delaying his mother. He noticed that the piece of paper in his hand was getting a bit wet from the drops dripping from the edge of the sunshade above. He took great pains to analyze and place his hands in such a way so as to protect that from getting wet.

He had lost track of his thoughts. Where was he? Yes! a Motorbike. A REAL one. The very thought excited him. He planned that he would ride from Madras to Bombay. A little voice in his head reminded him that he still did not know to ride it. He dismissed it outright, but at the same time made up his mind to practice more on his tri-wheeler, since he assumed that it would suffice. He felt really light now. He reasoned that it was probably because of the 2 months of holidays that lay ahead.

"Karthik.. Karthik"... He heard and was snapped out of his reverie. There stood his mother knee deep in water, holding an umbrella, calling out his name. His school was already locked for the summer, so she seemed visibly worried. He ran towards her, but the water came upto his chest. He displayed his chivalry by keeping out the chit way above his head and certainly out of water. It was 10 seconds before his mother picked him up in her arms.

Proudly he presented the chit to his mother. He had kept it out of water even in the fiercest of rains, thereby fulfilling his word to his Miss. His face was gleaming with a sense of accomplishment. However, his mother still seemed worried about something. He wondered what the matter was. Then she asked him where his bag was ?

Bag!! He saw that it was no longer strapped onto his shoulders. No wonder he felt so light. The school was already closed and there was no one who could be asked. His mother tried to trace it in the school but to no avail. He came back, with the chit still clinging to his hand. He felt really guilty. He had been so careless, so irresponsible. As it turned out his father was transferred during that very summer and he had to change school, without his bag. He then resolved, that from then on, whatever happened , he would always keep his bag carefully, by his side.

Epilogue: Fortunately, he got his bag after summer - in a remarkable turn of events where it passed through many people and finally found him.

Note : This is a true story. All incidents are real.Names are unchanged though, for anonymity. :)

At Home...

Once upon a time, when this title could not be abbreviated to ~ or a bunch of HTML  ; when it still referred to a place one need not wear any masks, there lived a 9-year old boy called Karthik.

 He loved his home, quite understandibly, and more so during holidays. He waited all year for his summer holidays and now that they were here, he was totally overjoyed. On the very first day, he asked his father to wake him up at 5:45 am, astonishing him. After all, one could not afford to lose holidays sleeping, much unlike the schooldays wherein he had to be dragged out of sleep. 

His father was punctual, and he did get up, brushed his teeth and put on the TV and computer together. Multitasking was not just in the domain of Computers. His elder sister woke up slowly, and was shocked to see him awake. In fact, he had seriously considered putting off the fan, and pouring some water over his sister's head as she slept, but decided against it. Not that he was afraid of her; it was just that it was against his principles to attack an unarmed person. 

His sister smiled at him encouragingly and sat near him with the tumbler of coffee as he played Age of Empires ( without cheatcodes) . He tightened his hold on the mouse. He certainly was not going to give her the computer to program/watch movies. She smiled again and appreciated his strategies. He started worrying now.  He told her clearly that he would not relinquish the hold on the computer, and if she put a password there in his absence ( as he clearly suspected ), she would have to face dire consequences. She was annoyed, and left the place. He liked it that way. 

At 12:00 noon, as he had conquered most of the world, his mother, for the 28th time, ordered him to go to bath. He decided that he must have some rest too. He collected his accessories - that included 3 GI-Joes , Chess coins, 2 paper boats, and a bouncing ball and went to bath. 

He planned his naval strategies meticulously on the water in the bucket, with the very simulation of a naval battle that he was soon going to launch. In the midst, somethings caught his attention. He was amazed how the color of water changed from White to Colorless; why the water from the tap took a cylindrical shape( even after coming out). He came back and as he gulped his food, he asked his doubts to his sister. His sister did not bother to even look up from the thick book she was reading. 

Seething with anger, he wondered what they learnt in higher classes. He then watched back-to-back movies of Harry Potter on Pogo.  In the evening, he was ordered by his mother to write the Tables.  He did not understand why he had to write it when the calculator could do it in an instant. "Because the calculator is not allowed in an Exam" , came the reply.  " Why?". "Because they want you to learn tables." He was certainly not impressed with the circular reasoning.  He strongly felt that he would reform the educational system when he grew up.

Grudgingly, he wrote all the tables from 3 to 14, even as he saw his sister doing some programming on the computer. Curious, he asked her what it was. She explained that it was a complicated sort algorithm. He was aghast. They did the questions like " Arrange the following in increasing order " in the 2nd Std and his sister was still stuck on that. He thought AOE was much better than spending 2 hours to write a program to arrange 5 numbers in an increasing order. Nevertheless, his sister did not appreciate his comments, quite expectedly. 

Once he got bored of AOE, he went back to his mother pestering her to make sweets that day(since it marked the commencement of his holidays) . Sitting on the cool balcony with his mother, gazing at the endless stars and the drifting clouds lit brightly with the moonlight,  he wondered what he had done that day. Nothing, came the honest reply from his heart. He persisted. He asked himself if anything he could do would have made a difference to this infinite cosmos? He went further and wondered if anything anyone  could do would make a difference to it. The answer was still negative. " Why then do the adults spend all their time in worry and complaints when none of their actions are actually of no great consequence? " He would soon understand, or quit the attempt to understand as people all around him had done... For the time being, he kept contemplating...

At College

9-year old Karthik was overjoyed! His summer holidays were on. His sister had her college reopening the next week. He simply enjoyed seeing  his sister prepare to go to college. He accompanied his mother to do some shopping, which usually translated to getting to see hundreds of cars speeding by, and millions of people moving about. 

He always wondered, what business did so many people have lazing around. Surely, not all of them could be working on the road! His joy was multiplied since he did not have school and his sister was preparing for college. He always had this tendency to show off his idleness, just to annoy her. He deliberately played Cricket 2007 for around 7 hours per day, with his own commentary following that of Mr. Boycott. Needless to say, his sister wasn't amused. But then, brothers dont get such golden chances everyday... 

The happiest thing for him was that he was going to visit her college too. He was thrilled. He often imagined college to be a cool place where the teachers no longer caned their students, most homeworks were given to be ignored and where people could go in color dress and without any schoolbag. ..

The joy was overwhelming when he arrived at her college. He wished her all the best, and made it a point to tell her what his plans for the rest of the holidays were....  For the first day, he decided to sneak into a class, to see what the people learnt. And since he was tiny, he couldn't be seen except by the guy behind him, who, to his surprise was quietly dozing ... 

The professor came, well he did look like a teacher,... he never understood the distinction. He wrote the topic on the board, some "Dynamic Programs." He wanted to cry out the misspelling of programme - his English Miss would have been aghast to have seen such a thing, but decided against it. Just at the time, he saw a boy, come in, with a big schoolbag. He wondered what he kept inside the bag, that noone else seemed to need. Maybe it was the books... or clothes.. or laundry... To break the reverie, that boy took out a notebook, and started writing. What was he writing? He had no idea. According to him, the professor had just written a wrong spelling on the board... Wierdos exist everywhere, he concluded. 

There were many peculiar things he observed in the class. There was a platform. The teacher did not shout "KEEP QUIET!!" even once during the period. People came in strange dresses. Noone sat in the front row. Everyone, well wierdos excluded, had just one notebook... and they were not collected at the end of the class for correction. For one thing, he doubted if anybody had written anything there. Overall, he felt amazed. 

Now he began to envy his sister for being in  a college. He fantasized that when he would go to college, he would have a flying motorbike ( surely they must be invented by then!! ), cooling glasses, a jeans pant and a t-shirt with lights!(well... maybe bcos then he could be a bright student!) ...

He came back and wondered. what did the people in the class do that he did not. He was very happy with himself. He had heard a number of times from elders that one's own happiness was what mattered in life. And he was happy enough with himself. True, he could be happier if his Mom had got him the GI-Joe and the new model of the Hot-wheels, but then there would always be another shopping session, he reassured himself. He wondered why he should grow up. Maybe to spell Programme wrong, maybe to speak to the computer more than to his own friends, maybe to complicate things that were really simple and then to derive pleasure in simplifying them, and maybe to live a happy life after all... 

Worries at School.

Karthik alighted from the school bus with a sense of foreboding. Something similar to Spider Man's spider-sense that he had come to associate with the school atmosphere. He quietly collected his lunch bag, and walked towards the old building. For some strange reason, he never relished this time of the day when you had to walk into the class, only to find some homework forgotten or some sincere sigamani preparing fervently for an anticipated test.

Silently he dragged himself towards Class V 'A'. On the way he met numerous tiny pupils, who slunk away from him. He gave a smug smile to them, which he hoped would be reassuring to them. Upon entering the class, he was happy to find no book open. His friends were busy playing pen-fight, a sport that had evolved from the carrom-board and which could be played on the teacher's desk.

He placed his bags in his place in the front row, and sat down to watch the proceedings. It consisted of intricate understanding of the physics of the pen movement, not to mention the pen choice ( reynolds 045 could nover hold fort against a jetter, for instance ) and accessories ( like rubberband, that were used to add to the weight and power and prevent the sliding of the pen ). He wasn't a player though. He had always been a silent spectator. So, he hid his Ink pen deep inside his bag, as he could not afford to let his friends break its nib again.

For some reason, he was considered peculiar by his classmates. He knew it, but he was too shy to talk to them about that and so, used it to remain mum on most occasions. Even during the lunch break discussions, by the time he clearly decided to add to the ongoing discussion, his friends would move on to some other topic, leaving him a mere spectator.

The bell rang. The students lined up outside the class for the assembly. He liked the morning assembly a lot. For one thing, he could not be singled out in the crowd. Following the prayer, he took the pledge. Even as he was stating the pledge, he wondered what was the reason behind taking the pledge everyday. It definitely was not prayer and if it was a sincere vow, he thought that the number of times did not really matter. It was followed by a brief sermon by the principal who found the discipline lacking in some classes. He let his mind freely wander in this period. He observed that his French Sir wore the same sequence of shirts every week, and that the PT Master was clean-shaved every alternate Monday... Soon, it was time for the National Anthem.

______________________________________________________________

Social Science Period :

After a hectic day, he finally got to the period that he awaited the most, the Last one. To add to his joy, it was Social Studies, taught by his favorite teacher in the school. He simply loved Social Studies, to the extent that he would read the book at home, even when there were no exams, a feat that no other subject had induced him to perform till date. He considered history on par with the stories his grand-mother used to tell him - about kings, emperors, wars and glorious victories. The way his Miss taught just added to his interest. On that day however, she was to teach a lesson from Geography. Suddenly, his neighbour asked him for a sharpener. He gave it, with a face as though he had been interrupted in the midst of a movie.

His Miss went on to describe the composition of the earth, its temperature and how it was slowly rising due to deforestation. She also painted a vivid picture of the consequences, if it continued for some more time. Young Karthik was shocked. With tears threatening to burst forth from his eyes, he mentally imagined a flooded situation, with no current. No fan or computer. No computer games. No schools. ( a thought that slightly cheered him up ). All people struggling to get fresh water.

He considered the adults too stupid to have not learnt even that much in so many years. He fervently wished that his Miss should be the Prime Minister for some time till such affairs were set in order. On the way back home, he saw clouds of smoke emanating from the factories, and logs of wood carried in lorries. All this enraged and frightened him.

Once at home, he poured out his fears to his mother. To add to his shock, she merely smiled. That very evening, he forced his mother to buy him a Mango sapling from the nearby nursery to be planted in their backyard. He named it Madayan, such that its full qualified name became Manga-Madayan. Madayan was his best friend ever since. He sincerely requested Madayan to work overtime to consume more greenhouse gases and save him from the trauma of floods. Till date Madayan has obliged. It is upto the 'intelligent' homo sapiens to do the needful now.

Karthik's Summer

Period : Summer Vacations.

Ever since his vacations began, 9 year old Karthik was waiting eagerly for the arrival of his friend. His neighbour - Preethi akka* . He had sorely missed her , since she had gone away to study at a hostel in a college. He secretly pitied her. From what he had heard, he had formed an impression that hostels were better only to central jails. He wondered why she ever went so far away to study.

His neighbours were exceptionally good people. Since his mother had to go to work, she would often ask the aunty to take care of him, in spite of his protests. Not that he resented. The aunty's fridge was home to lots of sweets, chocolates and juices, and he marveled at Preethi akka's abstinence from such nice things. He usually went to play at their house. Akka had always been helpful- she had taught him the basics of Hindi, she used to narrate to him marvelous stories of Harry Potter. Harry Potter forced him to accept that stories other than comics could be interesting too. She was his official translator, whenever they watched Hindi/ English movies on the TV.

All this 2 years ago. Last year, she had been increasingly busy, going to coaching classes for about 4-5 "entrance tests", right from 5 am in the morning. It would be around 10 pm when she came home. He had overheard aunty pouring out her worries to his mother as to how Preethi would fare in the board exams. "Board Exams? Do they write questions on the Black-board?", he wondered. It meant a hectic schedule for akka, who was quite remarkable in taking up the challenge. This was not the first time he had heard about the Boards. Come April-May, all the news channels would carry the interviews of the toppers. It was quite another matter that all of them stated the same thing. To him, they appeared quite supernatural, being interviewed by the same people who usually interviewed the President or Rajni Kanth. It was an achievement in itself.

Akka soon completed her exams and was free as ever and their ramblings continued. She, just like him, had no friends of her age in the neighbourhood. Soon, her results were announced and to Karthik's greatest joy, she had stood first, not only in her school, but also in the entire district, scoring a staggering 97 point something percentage. Their locality was a flurry of activity. She was interviewed, her photos flashed across the TV channels. Suddenly, he felt insignificant. He had never expected her to be so brilliant. After all, shd did everything that he did. But then, he thought that you could never judge people on their face value. He added this to his list of random Philosophical Principles that he made from time to time.

Akka did not feel the same way though. She continued playing with him and telling him the movie stories. His first ambition was fulfilled. He had not only met one person whom they interviewed on the TV, he was also her friend.

She went to the college shortly after, a college in Goa, and was returning only that day. His wait soon came to an end as Akka arrived at home. The first few days were spent in an usual routine. He gathered various insights about college life. He learnt that hostels weren't like jails after all and that you could wear any dress you liked to the class. This thought excited him.

There was one thing though that depressed him. Her big fat books. He could not see how he would ever lift those books, leave aside studying them. They had a use though. They would often double up as hard pillows whenever he was at their place and was too tired after watching TV. Akka graciously allowed this. Sometimes, her friends used to call her on her new mobile phone, and she would go on talking for at least half an hour. He did notice that her way of speech had certainly changed. Her talks were now punctuated by "Cho Chweet", that it almost became a distraction.

Akka's college was one of the best in India, his parents had told him. He wondered if he would ever get an admission anywhere. He had thought that he would become a Bus-conductor or a traffic policeman, after all they held the power to scold people, and none would ever retort. He had considered being a teacher, but found that he would have to force children to do homework and cane them if necessary, and this was against his conscience. So he dropped that idea.

Recently, he had added software engineer to the list too. He had been to Chandru Anna's company the previous week and to his amazement saw almost everyone there playing Minesweeper in the AC room. But he knew that there were the frightening Board Exams, that he had to face if he wanted to make any of his dreams a reality. He grew worried for some time.

Soon he came out of his depression as he remembered Preethi Akka telling him something from a Harry Potter book- " What would come, would come and he would definitely have to meet it when it did." He only hoped that he would well at that point.

* Akka - A common term used in south india to address one's elder sister.

Karthik's World

It was a pleasant morning. Karthik was riding his brand new BSA bicycle through the woods, singing merrily all the way. There were trees with barks of chocolates, with rasagullas and game CDs hanging from the trees... Cool, fresh morning breeze whipped across his face, rejuvenating it, keeping the tiredness at bay." Enthralling", he thought, "when nature and men lived in harmony". Suddenly, he heard a voice of someone familiar. "Karthik... KAAARTHHHIK....".... He halted the cycle in style, and as he was alighting in Sivaji Rajini style, he fell... headfront into the pile of lush grass, too soft to get hurt.

The Pillow. The voice? His mother's. Screaming at the top of her voice from the kitchen. "ARE YOU GETTING UP OR SHALL I CALL MISS AND TELL HE IS ABSENT??" Karthik heard. He hated. After 2 months of blisfull solitude called summer, back was the blackmailing. He strongly felt that he must finish college soon, work and retire by another 2 years and then sleep without any botheration. This thought proved to be a tonic of inspiration to break his inertia as he groggily woke up and demanded the brush. " 9 years old and i have to put the paste on his brush", mumbled his mother. "Its all the result of your spoon-feeding", remarked his father, eyeing him casually over the newspaper. This unwarranted remark enraged him. He stuff the brush into his mouth. You just needed to stand there for 3 minutes and come out and declare the teeth were brushed.

As he stood, he remembered the newspaper. He had often wondered what it contained to hold the attention of his father for two hours. He even tried sneaking into it, when he was seen by his father and surprisingly got a pat on his back. His father urged him to continue reading. Inspired, he started sifting through the pages. There was nothing. Not even pictures of animals. At most, there were pictures of "conferences" being held and men in suits. He liked wearing the suits. He had asked his mother what "conference" meant. She had replied that it was a meeting where a group of people attended, somebody talked and the others responded to that. This revelation angered him. The thing conference sounded exactly like a classroom, and still the newspaper maker had never bothered to interview him. This thought turned him against the newspaper-maker . Holding it was itself so painful to him. He spread it out on the floor and sat on one of its edges.Still, it invariably flew everywhere in the room, inviting mother's scoldings. All this convinced him not to touch the paper again.

Three minutes up. He went to the kitchen and wanted to demand coffee. But he was careful. Mornings 5:45 to 7:15 was the tension-time for mother, and you tended to get castigated for the smallest of errors.

He was cautious and slipped with his coffee into the Hall. As he sipped it, making sure that father wasn't looking that way ( sipping was told to be wrong ) , he wondered how soon his holidays had ended. What had he done during the holidays? Nothing worthwhile he recalled. His English miss had asked them to read newspapers. Well, he had at least attempted. Still he was restless. He mentally ticked a check-list of the To-Dos. He was facing a problem though. He did not remember the list. He gave up, thinking it was the 5th standard that made him feel that way.

He had attended the marriage of his cousin sister. He had very good opinion about marriages. They usually meant nice food, and protection from direct scoldings from your parents. You could always depend upon relatives to shield you. Moreover, there were too many distractions for mother to keep a close eye on his mischiefs. And then there was this presumption by the adults that they were smarter, which he encouraged , since it gave him license to mischief. But there was one irritating thing about marriages he hated. Whosoever you see, tended to ask," Do you remember me?". He often wondered how they could expect a 9-year old to remember so many names and where he had last met them. The most frustrating thing was they never seemed to remember him at all. Each person would come, tap his cheek and ask his name, school and class. And he distinctly remembered telling his aunt last year his class with section number and there she had asked again.

His reverie was interrupted by his mother, who ordered him not to play with the sugar in the coffee tumbler and go to bath. Bath! Another thing he had never understood. They said it would clean the body. He wondered how come the sand was still there even after it rained. He came out and reluctantly put on his uniform. He searched for his socks. He had always had a doubt as to which one of the pair was for which foot. He assured himself that since no-one could see, it wouldn't matter. He made out for the door, wished his mother good-bye. The feel of shoes after 2 months made him feel tall. He stood at the stop waiting for his bus to arrive.

Standing there, he couldnt help blaming himself for not having enjoyed his rare holidays ( after all they came just 70 times in a whole year) completely. Especially on Sundays, when his father spent all his time watching news, swapping news channels. For one thing, he couldn't watch Shaktiman and Captain Vyom.

The sight of the school-bus depressed him. He had prayed sincerely for rain that day. This was just the second time he had made such a sincere request to God.( the first was when he got his new raincoat !) . No answer. God must be busy or the water cycle would have been "punctured", he justified to himself.

Suddenly, he felt as if he missed his homework. Since 2 years, he had been doing his own homework. This was no great moral decision. In his second standard, he had raised a havoc and forced his father to do his homework. The next day, the maths miss immediately detected it. He later found out that there had been a question "What is the answer when 35 is divided by 3?" His father, doing the work, in the breaks between the news, had answered 11.666667. It was perfect, the only catch was that they were not taught decimals till Std 4. The answer was supposed to be Q = 11 , R = 2 . Thinking about that gave him shudders till this day.

But suddenly he stopped himself. Why should he think? "This was the first day. There would be no worries of homework or tests at least for a week to come.", he reassured himself, as he stepped into the bus - into a new year with new hopes. His friends welcomed him with a smile. As the engine of the bus roared to life, he swallowed the lump in his throat. The bus moved. Standard V beckoned him.