The injustice around is probably gnawing too hard on my heart and soul .It has exposed an incident which could seem minor, mischievous and even not worth remembering . But I remember it. I remember it in emotional details .
I was seven years old then . It was a normal school day .
I was sitting in my classroom on a bench sandwiched between ‘Ya’ and ‘Sa’ . I do clearly remember their names but won’t be necessary to name them . They were nice kids . ‘
Ya’ was a girl with skin that was fair but had no moisture and was ridden with subtle spots . I don’t remember a single feature on her face but she had this peculiar hair. A shade of dry brown almost aspiring to be yellow .Perhaps a sign of malnourishment, I now feel.
‘Sa’ was a dark oily skinned boy with amazing drawing skills. Brilliant kinds . His face too I don’t remember now . But he was also a nice boy . I liked them both.
The school building was an old house that had a slanting thatched roof. I remember the brown of the roof ,the dark shady classroom and the bright sunlight outside . I had taken out my notebook and had opened the fresh page for the days assignment. In those times notebooks didn’t come standardised and the local stationers sold notebooks which had pages of assorted textures . So they could be rough or glossy or misprinted or misshapen randomly.
To my delight I found the glossiest page ever as I opened the notebook for the classwork. With pride and delight I slid the flat of my palm in a happy fashion over the page and had looked at ‘Ya’ and ‘Sa’ with a twinkle in my eye .“ Look such a glossy page “ , I had said .
They looked at each other without a word . A knowing smile. A deep camaraderie that made them understand what the next collaborative move was , without even uttering a word. I was busy gazing at the glossy page and enjoying the texture with my small hands .
The next event was something that froze me. Caught me unawares.
‘Sa’ and ‘Ya’ swiftly worked the move. Together they dextrously moved their fingers and palms on that page till they crumpled it to a sad mess. It was done with such an expert manner that the page did not tear but it was not glossy anymore.It was crushed beyond compare .
They laughed at the little prank. They were clever pranksters, I must admit . I was stunned . Too stunned to get angry or cry or fight. I sat there looking at them enjoy what they did without understanding they just took away something that had made me happy . They were children. Nice children . I liked both of them . Still do. But what they did has stayed with me .
I kept straightening the page for quite sometime. But once crushed it never straightens out again. I didn’t cry or complain that day . I didn’t fight . I studied with them for next 4 years and could never ask them one simple question .
Why ??
Since I am remembering it after such a longtime I think I am still stunned how easily people can …..without a reason…. take away what makes someone happy. Just because someone was happy.
Nidhi Roopnarayan's Blog 