Saturday, 25 April 2015

Chapter 3

                                    CHAPTER 3

There was one particular memory which I had buried in the deepest layers of my brain and I had resolutely decided to recollect the memory only in my deathbed. However, it was difficult to keep the memory hidden when I was thinking about our rivalry.

We were supposed to enact a skit, a simple one. Shalini was the team leader. She assigned the role of a beggar to me and I had only one scene to act. She wanted to humiliate in every possible way! The truth is, I felt less humiliated, after all, I was better than the boy who had to act as a dog! Throughout the rehearsals, the fact that Shalini has good oratory skills made me feel uneasy. I practised hard, with only motive in my mind; it was to perform better than Shalini.

Finally, the big day arrived. When my part came, I looked down at my costume for one last time and walked to the centre of the stage. My eyes nervously darted across the auditorium.I opened my mouth, but no words came. I forgot my dialogues! I started desperately digging my brain for my lines. I helplessly gaped at the audience. I was shivering all over. I heard a few catcalls. Tears welled up in my eyes. I turned back to look at my friends. All of them, even Shalini was frantically urging me to talk. I shook my head. Then, they moved on to the next scene.

I waited at the backstage. My heart was racing, my legs were shaking. Beads of sweat rolled down my face. I tried remembering my lines again, I could recollect the first lines. I buried my face in my hands. "Why 
 didn't you speak anything at all?", I asked myself. I glanced at my watch every now and then. I felt like a man who was going to be hanged next.

The skit was over. I listened to my teacher's tirade silently, with my head bent down. When I lifted my head, I saw Shalini standing in front of me. She didn't utter a word, she only frowned at me. That was enough to make me feel miserable. I took no effort to stop my tears. I stared at her with my bloodshot eyes.

I can't forget that day, the most embarrassing day of my life. The incident kept haunting me for several weeks. Now as I think back, I wish I could have been the dog, there were no dialogues for the dog, of course!

I watched Aadhya intently. She was rummaging her teddy-bear-bag. I looked at the bag with a feeling of disgust. I still don't understand what makes her go crazy over the bag. The day, when she laid her eyes upon the bag, she was so adamant on buying the bag. I didn't find anything impressive about the bag. It was small, very ordinary-looking bag and really costly. So, I simply refused to buy it, but offered to buy another bag, but she was persistent. She had eyes only for that bag. She kept pleading and then began weeping. Within  few seconds, all the people in the shop became spectators to the mother-making-her child-cry-scene. My cheeks turned pink, then turned to a deep shade of magenta. Finally, I gave in. Nevertheless, I made her promise that she won't ask for a toy for next six months.

Later, I told the teddy bear bag story to my mother. My mother, in a severe tone, offered lectures on 'how to be a good child' to Aadhya for nearly an hour. I felt some kind of unusual joy on seeing Aadhya's head bent so low. However, that sense of joy was short-lived. Once Aadhya was out of earshot, my mother very rudely pointed out that when I was a small child, I had done the same thing which Aadhya had done. Well, but there seemed to be no trace of such a memory in my brain. I tried hard to recollect if I ever had a teddy bear bag. In fact, I never had a liking for teddy bears, really.

However, I must confess that there is something mysterious about these childhood mischief, they happen to vanish once we enter into adulthood.

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3 comments:

  1. Mira, u r such a good writer, no words to explain. I never knew that a genius like u was studying with my daughter. Glad u heard to ur brother n started this blog, so that v all came to know about ur talent. Great going!! Keep it up!! All the best.

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