Mera pehla pehla pyar..........

An appeal: The following is an account of a very important and life altering day of a 12 year old written with the same unblemished innocence and intent of a kid of the same age. So, it is best enjoyed when read from the eyes of a 12 year old.

It was a Wednesday. I still remember vividly. I was out on the porch with Varun taking some last minute tidbits from him when I first saw her. She was waving at someone and smiling brightly. Oh! I doubt if I will ever forget that first glimpse of her. But, before I realized what hit me, she was gone. As the world around came back to me, I realized how slowly my heart beat now, how funny my stomach felt with a weird tingling and how rhythmic my breath had become. I looked around in vain but alas! she was gone already.

The next time I saw was again a Wednesday. I was pulled off the line for untidy hair and made to stand aside after the prayer. I was doing the ceremonial lowering the head with shame when I saw her again. Sleepy and puffy eyed, she wore a straight face as she silently walked to her class in the line. My eyes followed her till it became too obvious to the others where I was looking. And then, it happened.

I should have seen it coming. Life was being a little too nice to me. I was doing well in the class, was having a great time at school with Nick, Tanmoy and Varun and an even better time back home with my gully friends, scoring well for our side in cricket and taking some good wickets too. In fact, I even managed to successfully execute a coup against the local bully and make sure he batted only twice every match! So, that morning I returned to the class after being roughed up by the physical trainer for the untidy hair and asked Nick what I had missed. He was telling me something when we were interrupted by Miss Kalpalatha. "There will be no classes in the after noon session today. Instead, there will be a reshuffling of students into sections", she announced and left.

Honestly, I had no idea what shuffling meant then but all I cared about was that we had no classes in the afternoon. So that afternoon, we guys had our meals late and lingered in the corridor till all the students were asked to vacate the classes with all our belongings. It took me a little less than a minute to put the pencil and the solitary book I wrote in back in the bag, pick my lunch basket and walk out. Nick, Varun and Tanmoy followed a little later and we stood in wait for our names and new sections to be announced.

"Tanmoy Mondal", shouted Kalpalatha. "E Section". He looked at the remaining three of us, assured us at least the remaining three of us will be in the same class and left to join the group of students from the other sections who were now going to be his classmates (We knew we wouldn't be joining him as he was being placed in the Sanskrit section. We on the other hand picked Hindi.) "S Varun, C Section", came next. He looked at me and Nick, puzzled and desperate, and left. Nick and I waited with bated breath hoping our names would also be called under C Section. But, C Section came and went with neither of our names being called out. "Nikhil D, B Section", was next and I looked silently and helplessly as my last best and only friend was herded into his new section. Intuitively, I felt my name wouldn't be called in this section. Yet, I stood there praying and waiting for my name to be called. "Leela Krishna, A Section" came and with it, I felt the little solid ground under my feet being pulled away throwing me into a deep endless tunnel of solitude where I had none of my best friends. It was while I was walking back slowly to my class (I was previously in the same section) dragging my basket along when I heard it. "Her, A Section", yelled Kalpalatha. I looked stunned as she slowly walked ahead of me and settled in the desk right next to where I sat in the class! Fumbling, half elated and half dazed, I walked to my desk, turned to her and said "Hi".

And that is how I uttered my first words to Her, the most beautiful thing that I have ever known.

And the award goes to...........

Once there was a school boy who was very notorious for mischief in the class. Coming from an influential family, he had his way in everything and was pretty much in public glare. No matter what the class teacher tried, the boy simply wouldn't mend his ways.

One day, the teacher was in the loo doing his business while reading the newspaper when he read "The News". And Eureka! That year, he gave the prestigious "Best Student of the class" award to the naughty kid. The whole school cried foul about the award; some openly, some in whispers. But, there was no undoing it.

On the other side, the kid was in a fix. He knew that the award is given only to the best in recognition of their achievements and conduct and he was nowhere in contention for it. Yet, now he found the shiny "Best Student" badge pinned to his tie binding him with invisible ropes of obligation to be good in public. He could no longer make any rash moves or be aggressive as the whole school was watching him keenly. The weight of the expectations and the glare of the eyeballs which followed his every move crippled the devil in him and he found himself trying to appease the others. Before he knew, his time at school was over and he was out.

On the last day, he walked up to his teacher and asked him why of all people in the world, he had given the prize to him. The teacher just smirked and said "Oh! I just borrowed the idea from the Norwegian Nobel Committee. You were just my little make-do Obama dear".