MSE-The School Days- Hopeless Creature

My enmity with Manish was about two years old, when we were in fifth standard. Since then we did not talk to each other. Infact, we changed our home so there was no reason seeing him again. But now all of a sudden he was in front of me. I gave him a half smile. He offered me a seat next to him.

“Kid, do you remember this scar you gave me” he said pointing to a big mark behind his ear lobe.

“Ya” I replied with a thanking smile.

“Friends” he said. We shook hands.

Thus I became the lone kiddish member of his group of big bullies. It was like instant oxygen to me. Now no one can deny me notes or the practice material. He even helped me by getting my work done by some chintoo creatures by bullying them. Now my only problems were on the studies front. I did not understand English. My writing speed was slow. My class work as well as home work was incomplete. My copies were unchecked. And moreover it was the fundamental right of every teacher to scold me. Most of the times I attended the class sitting on the floor. Teachers would come and ask about the homework, classwork, copies and other things and then order me to sit on the floor and complete my work. While other students of my kind used to hesitate but I was never ashamed. I would come out shamelessly take some hasty steps to my marked corner and cross my legs and leisurely sit on the floor. I loved this punishment because I could get a bird’s eye view of whole class from here. I could tease my tease my buddies, pass on some teethy smiles to some of the prettiest girls, and put my pen in mouth and day dream about whatever I wanted. I believe this was the time and instance which later on turned me into an addictive day dreamer. One more reason why I liked this punishment was that it did make a lot of my class-girls laugh. They would not talk to me but at least could laugh at me. Slowly but steadily I was becoming notorious (although I believed I was becoming popular). All the teachers, students of the other sections as well as the seniors would ask, “Are you the same? Heard a lot about you?” It would inflate my chest for about two inches. Stories of my hopelessness were crossing the boundaries.