Meeting a slum! – The day of inspiration.

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Its not a matter of decade! years… months… or a day.
It just take minutes for once, a light twist of life, a point mutation in you! and bamn!
Change of a lifetime!! 

It has always been a habit of mine, to interview people. I talk to people, I am sad in their sorrows, I smile in their happiness. And all that i gather doing this thing part time job, I write to the love of my pen… the paper 🙂

I would love to give this story some words. Today I am going to tell you a story, which will remain in me till I live. This is inspiration friends! When an ant want to climb the wall again after trying and falling, when a tree is adamant to live against the storms…

Let’s get started!

I love to play Almost all the sports. But if you ask me in particular, I would say – Lawn tennis and cricket!
So, some days ago, i reached to a stadium to play. While I bowled my over, I saw a spectacular fielder… who didn’t let the ball go. I mean, his hands were web!

Then, the slum, bowled a great over. Watching his ability to terrify batsman with bouncers and unexpected pace variation, I soon went to some players I knew, and i asked, fingering to that person…”who is he”

The players told that he is Mangal, a slum who lives nearby. I went to him to pass him heaps of compliment, to bestow us a win that was once hopeless!

  1. Physically, (even in the match I noticed, and now)
    He didn’t seem to be even someone you would qualify into middle class people by economy. He was wearing shorts, that had the threads lingering out and a shirt that was torn.
  2. When i talked to him, I came to know that his father is jobless! and all he did was drinking… from the money, his mother earns. She was a servant. All in all, The home was not in a homeostasis… 
  3. He was quite emotional! While he told his life story, I was also submerged. He had a bottle in his hand, and as he came on the topic – how his mother cries while cooking food… A water drop fell on the bottle. I pulled my head up and saw him in tears. I gripped his shoulder and told him not to cry.
  4. But soon I saw, that he just wanted to get this pain out. He wiped his tears, And he came to his plans.
    He told that he want to become a bank manager. He said that he will never drink or smoke like his fellow friends do. He simply said that he want to see his mother happy. I smiled and tapped his shoulder, and i said with proud in mouth twisting my tongue ” May you”.
  5. He was a friend! As the sun came down, he stopped and as I was just about to leave. He asked for my name, I smiled again, and said “Sankalp”. I again got back and hugged him. We became friends that single day.

I think we have every comfort, to live, to write, to enjoy and have a life! And there! I see a slum who don’t have wings but he want to fly! 
He wants to fight, like that tree against the wall…He wants to climb again to the wall like that ant!
I saw his pain, his life, and he want his status to rise. Such richness at hear! He wants to see his mother happy. These people are hard to find. I am hungry! for such experiences… We all want to be struck hard to get back on path! And all that, I found in the eyes of a slum!
This is inspiration, He spoke what I was craving for. He made me learn, that We don’t have to die poor even if we are born!

May he achieve whatever he wants in life. He was a man of values… A man who deserve to be honored… 🙂

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The school… You miss it? or you missed it!

Oh!
I miss my school…
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How,
in a cute sense of fear of a strict teacher, I ran like a chick into my class,

And how,
As soon as the bell rang, I tried to be the first one to step out of the school.
Dude, believe me I ran faster than Usain Bolt that time… :-p

How I carved those desks, sitting alone, watching like nobody is watching me and then writing the name of my crush and then tried to erase it completely so that no Byomkesh Bakshi can even doubt my hand writing !!

How,
Passing smile at each other radiated the top secrets and eyes that spoke so much!
Every thing had the exact pleasure, i wanted
It was all about joy and friendship…

Alas! I can’t pull the rope again…
I have lost the tug of war against time
I wish I had a time machine!

These are the kind of words, the stuff I heard  from my fellow guys and girls.
Yes, they would put to words, those dazzling moments the same way.

BUT

I have never been one of such personalities. I too have missed my friends, have written the memories on the page of life with the ink of friendship. Such memories that if i begin to spell, would make it to days…
But still, that’s not all i can think of and write about when i sneak into the scent of those mesmerizing days…

Actually,
Rather than friends and fun only,
I always have and forever will…miss the vibes that kissed my very being the first day i put my first feat to that beautiful building, my school.

The way, we friends shared the food
And sometimes, those little stealings from the lunch box that contributed so much to the innocence phenomena…
But soon, the tables we joined to come closer to friends, to converge with them, to enjoy the meal…turned to the disfigured wood mangled with the compasses and sharp pencils that reflected our secrets!
I can sense the pain of those whooping desks…

Oh! those classroom walls…
Full of charts and hey! there hung my chart, that one of the walls did hold when i won my first chart making competition.
But as the time passed, the walls were stamped by the dirty shoes.
I can perceive the tears it shed.

What to say about the playgrounds!
Where our egos burst screaming! when they saw us lending hands to our oppositions and friends.
This way, we fed the white spirits in us with the delicious meal of sportsmanship.

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Time has been growing and,
It has been

Two years…

And i still, when pass by my school or come closer to that area, get goosebumps!
And then that overwhelming brimming out feeling again! when i put my first step into that building again.
It feels like it has its own cosmos, it hugs me with all the affection it can afford. I go to my classroom again like that kid Usain Bolt with the same spilling out enthusiasm and excitement!

I reach my classroom breathing heavily and read the label stuck to the wall ’10th A1′ and smile… 🙂
It was none less than a child that runs for his chocolate and never gets tired.
I enter and see, the blackboard that prepared me for life! the The chalk box, my teacher’s cupboard, the podium where my nervousness magically centrifugated to the confidence i earned after the first speech i gave… those desks, the same wall.
An impulse in me was finally cherished… 

Full of tears,
Once again as i was sent to school the first day,
Slowly sat on the desks,
I lent my ear to it and it spoke to me my childhood.
“Oye aaj tu kya laaya hai?” (What did u bring today in lunch box)
“Aaj mamma ne ye bheja hai” (today mom sent this)
“Yaar ye to meri favourite sabzi hai (hey this is favourite meal)
“Kamine thoda kam kha” (You dog! eat less :-p )
“Baaki sabko milega par tujhe ni dunga ( All others will get some meal, except you )

All those voices it kept within it, it just transmitted into me and brought to me an immense happiness!

Then, i hug that wall.
Sometimes, it is damn cold!
But it has a warmth that has given life to my days…everything I crave for!

FINALLY,

I come to my playground, turned around, imagine all those scenes playing like an emotional movie in my head…and i breathe in the vicinity…
I mean, my school was – A home away from home.

It has made me realize that there is nothing more beautiful than childhood and essence…
Essence is the mother of all memories… 🙂

They are rare that miss the ‘school’,
others just missed it…

So people must think, when they say they miss their school.
Because most of them miss their peers….

So which of the two,
Do you miss often…

The classmates, the school, or both?