Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Passing Class Eight..

Rakesh & me were always on the same boat as kids. We studied together, lived nearby, played together and also flunked together. It was the half yearly exams that went too bad and our results was scheduled on the day next to Diwali. We almost saw our marks card with a red mark in every nightmare and our peace turned into havoc. We could not even dream of celebrating Diwali as we knew that the next morning our Garden of Eden would turn into a haunted house for us. We watched the day turn dusk and dusk turn dark and then every lane and every door covered with the brightest color of light and to the opposite, our faces covered with the mask of dullness. We saw our friends bursting cracker's and became even sadder. Our football field was dark, same as our face. We searched a lot, yet didn't find anyone to sit beside and comfort us in hour of pain. We decided to sit beside our football field and watch everyone celebrate. We did regret a lot, and realized nothing could be changed at that hour. We wished if somehow our answer paper's got misplaced or our teacher showed some mercy on your sweet young faces. We never felt lonelier than that moment. We even counted stars in the sky; our count went till 16-17 and then again we became busy filling the voids of our loneliness. We talked about studies and swore to no mischief's and decided to study seriously. We separated and reached home; slept early. We woke up and prayed every God we knew. We reached school and saw our result's. Luckily it was not that worse as we thought it would have been. Still we were screwed. Somehow I managed with my usual policy of 'Self Signing the Report Card with Dad's sign' and escaped the scolding scenario. Within a day or two we forgot our promises and then we were back. Me, rakesh, friend's and our football field; together we smiled in the evening's with the smiling Sun. Luckily we didn't flunk the final's yet never passed with good mark's.

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