Shreeti became conscious of the existence of the city in which she was born and brought up when her teacher asked her to pen down an essay on the same. All the ten years she had taken the city for granted, exploiting it's offers but blissfully oblivious of its glory.
Shreeti nervously kept biting the butt of her pencil unless the the small eraser attached to it started dusting off in granules small and large. The ringing of the bell, alarmed her back to awareness and reality. The teacher strolled up to her, gave her the disapproving look and retorted.. "Obviously you were lost!"
Shreeti stood up with a bowed head, still caught between fear and confusion. The teacher struck a ruthless red mark on the notebook, leaving a warning that the work must be done by the next day.
Shreeti rushed back home. In her soiled socks and crumpled tunic, her grumbles awakened her mother Sarita, to her daughter's dilemma. Flipping through the pages, mother could be seen change her expressions from concern to thoughtfulness.
Sarita cancelled Shreeti's after school tuition for the day. After a brief nap, dressed Shreeti up in crisp clothes and took her out in her meek and humble gearless moped.
"Look around baby, this is the city the streets you have been well acquainted in all the years. Try to overlook the balloons and ice cream parlours and enjoy the sight of other things around." Mother even stopped to point at the sacrosanct temples,age old churches, magestic monuments on the way.
Zooming through the winding ways, seated comfortably holding her mother's waist Shreeti gaped at the huge trees, the scribbled walls and the stone forts. The cool breeze of the flanking river almost lullabied her to sleep.
On the way back Shreeti complained about the quick return, even pointed at the incompleteness of the tour without the show-stopper cone of ice cream.
However she was dragged back lest darkness befall the city and Sarita's freedom as the woman of the house. At the dinner table shreeti mumbled to herself, as her mother stepped nearer and stuffed a little food into her mouth. Stroking her hair affectionately Sarita spoke with a stern voice.. "Do the pending essay baby. You might be punished tomorrow". Shreeti's sleepy eyes were barely open till the end of dinner, let alone do a couple pages of writing.
The next morning Sarita send her off disappointed, feeling helpless and guilty of her inadequate vigilance about the girl. Shreeti meekly mumbled to the teacher.."the dog ate my homework."
In her mind she had flashbacks of mother's futile efforts to educate her and attempts to induce sincerity. The teacher's scolding appeared like mere ranting. Her eyes had nearly moistened when a renewed voice and consciousness had spoken out.. "But I remember all I had written and can speak it out right away"
At further encouragement the daughter began with unabated flow and confidence, words of glory about Cuttack, the optimistic note behind the closely packed houses and ever increasing traffic. The stories about the brave rulers who reigned from age unknown. When she couldn't recall things in precision. Shreeti made up small parts to arouse interest and attention. As she finished off the apparent essay and real extempore, she was beaming and shining with sounds of a standing vocation of the students and the teacher alike.
News spread home and Sarita gave her a loving scolding for having lied at school. Secretly Sarita had decided to discontinue Shreeti's tuitions for good while happily treating her daughter to a double doze of chocolate ice cream and muffin.
Shreeti nervously kept biting the butt of her pencil unless the the small eraser attached to it started dusting off in granules small and large. The ringing of the bell, alarmed her back to awareness and reality. The teacher strolled up to her, gave her the disapproving look and retorted.. "Obviously you were lost!"
Shreeti stood up with a bowed head, still caught between fear and confusion. The teacher struck a ruthless red mark on the notebook, leaving a warning that the work must be done by the next day.
Shreeti rushed back home. In her soiled socks and crumpled tunic, her grumbles awakened her mother Sarita, to her daughter's dilemma. Flipping through the pages, mother could be seen change her expressions from concern to thoughtfulness.
Sarita cancelled Shreeti's after school tuition for the day. After a brief nap, dressed Shreeti up in crisp clothes and took her out in her meek and humble gearless moped.
"Look around baby, this is the city the streets you have been well acquainted in all the years. Try to overlook the balloons and ice cream parlours and enjoy the sight of other things around." Mother even stopped to point at the sacrosanct temples,age old churches, magestic monuments on the way.
Zooming through the winding ways, seated comfortably holding her mother's waist Shreeti gaped at the huge trees, the scribbled walls and the stone forts. The cool breeze of the flanking river almost lullabied her to sleep.
On the way back Shreeti complained about the quick return, even pointed at the incompleteness of the tour without the show-stopper cone of ice cream.
However she was dragged back lest darkness befall the city and Sarita's freedom as the woman of the house. At the dinner table shreeti mumbled to herself, as her mother stepped nearer and stuffed a little food into her mouth. Stroking her hair affectionately Sarita spoke with a stern voice.. "Do the pending essay baby. You might be punished tomorrow". Shreeti's sleepy eyes were barely open till the end of dinner, let alone do a couple pages of writing.
The next morning Sarita send her off disappointed, feeling helpless and guilty of her inadequate vigilance about the girl. Shreeti meekly mumbled to the teacher.."the dog ate my homework."
In her mind she had flashbacks of mother's futile efforts to educate her and attempts to induce sincerity. The teacher's scolding appeared like mere ranting. Her eyes had nearly moistened when a renewed voice and consciousness had spoken out.. "But I remember all I had written and can speak it out right away"
At further encouragement the daughter began with unabated flow and confidence, words of glory about Cuttack, the optimistic note behind the closely packed houses and ever increasing traffic. The stories about the brave rulers who reigned from age unknown. When she couldn't recall things in precision. Shreeti made up small parts to arouse interest and attention. As she finished off the apparent essay and real extempore, she was beaming and shining with sounds of a standing vocation of the students and the teacher alike.
News spread home and Sarita gave her a loving scolding for having lied at school. Secretly Sarita had decided to discontinue Shreeti's tuitions for good while happily treating her daughter to a double doze of chocolate ice cream and muffin.
3 comments:
I have not read much... Only books of Chetan Bhagat... And he has this thing of describing small things in huge detail!
I see a similar pattern in your writing and it's amazing!
Why don't we start making short films and you would be the scriptwriter!
Agreed yaar!! Chalo
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