Tag: beliefs

Chapter Fifty: The Final Chance

Praveena carried on, sharing her knowledge and experience with the children who came her way. She painted whenever she felt like it and grew as an artist.

She showcased her paintings in exhibitions, and people bought her work with interest that surprised her. In all of the exhibitions she attended, she displayed the drawing of the three stallions. But despite a lot of people offering to buy it, she remained reluctant to sell.

She and Ms Marrie met now and then in The Green Leaf restaurant. They spoke of things that bothered them, and Ms Marrie would often give Praveena some handy tips.

On her twenty-eighth birthday, Praveena eagerly opened the letter she had received. Ms Marrie and Anil were her only well wishers. Ms Marrie had called early in the morning, and the letter had to be from Anil. And sure enough, it was a hand-written letter.

Dearest Praveena,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am well too. Life in Bangalore is so boring. I am thinking of shifting to Chennai, and stay closer to you if it’s alright with you.

How is your life? I know you would have changed a lot from the last time we spoke. I know the lonely years have troubled you, but remember, you are not alone. I’ll always be with you.

I really hope you do take care of yourself. I will be coming over to Chennai tomorrow and want to talk to you. Meet me in “The Green Leaf” at one o’clock.
Please do come.

Anil.

Praveena read and reread the letter. Anil was coming to Chennai? After such a long time? She couldn’t understand why. And why had he mentioned the place and time in the letter? He could have just called her, or an SMS would have been enough, she wondered confused. She felt a bit reluctant to meet him. What would they talk about?

She waited for Anil at The Green Leaf restaurant. Ever since her father had died, their friendship gradually diminished. ‘Then why’ her inner voice was curious ‘does he want to meet you?’

Anil came into the restaurant and walked over to her. He hadn’t changed much. His hair was unkempt as it had always been, and he wore blue jeans and a blue full sleeved shirt folded half-way.

“Hey,” he said taking the seat opposite her, smiling through his trimmed boxed beard.

“Hi,” she smiled broadly. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said earnestly. Seeing Anil again brought back old memories, bringing a familiar smile on her face. “how’ve you been?” she asked.

“Good, good” he replied, nodding. “and you?” he raised his eyebrows.

Praveena nodded. ‘Alright’. Anil nodded as well.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked crossing her arms on the table.

“Oh,” Anil hesitated. “Er – about starting that self-help, recovery thing,” he waved his arms casually, “remember?”

“What about it, Anil?” Praveena asked exasperatedly.

“Let’s start the organization,” Anil said rubbing his hands together looking excited all of a sudden. “I’m bored with my job,” and seeing her raised eyebrows, he added, “you wanted to do this too. We’ll get it started,” he shrugged.

Praveena thought about it. He was right. She had wanted to do this, but she wasn’t sure if now was a good time. But she also didn’t know when a good time was. She could work in the institution and teach at the same time. That wouldn’t be a problem. She wondered why the thought had never occurred to her earlier. ‘Because you had no one to talk to,’ the voice in her head helped, and Praveena agreed silently. With Anil back at her side, they could set this up together. Her dream would become reality.

Anil watched in silence as she waged the war in her head. He had seen her do it before and knew better than to interrupt.

“Alright Anil,” she sighed. “Let’s do this,” she smiled widely. After a long time, she felt the same excitement she had had years before when the thought first hatched in her head. “Thanks, for coming,” she smiled at him.

They sipped on their juice in silence, and once finished, she was about to stand, when Anil stopped her, “Praveena?” She looked questioningly at him. “One more thing,” he paused looking serious.

“What is it Anil?” she asked leaning forward in her chair.

“I tried to tell you a lot of times…” he stalled shaking his head. He swallowed. And then, he smiled brightly. “Praveena,” he said, looking deep into her eyes, at the way her pupils dilated in curiosity, “Will you marry me?”

Chapter Forty Eight: Duties

Praveena cherished her experience teaching in her own school. On her second day, she decorated her room. She covered the table in a white spread and placed a photo of Niveda, Anil, and herself. That picture was a reminder of the evil of drugs and its effect on wonderful relationships. She had also brought the painting she had done in college, the one with three stallions basking undisturbed in a valley. She stuck the painting on the wall behind the table so that it was the first thing any one would see when they entered the room. The rest of the wall, she left bare, unsure what to add. She had planned to collect paintings and writings from her students and display them as an exhibition one day.

Kareem had asked her to fill in as a temporary art teacher. The current teacher had left on a maternity leave. And so, Praveena met with her first class, the third year students. After a warm welcome, she asked them all to paint whatever came to their mind. At the end of the forty five minutes class, only a handful of students had finished their drawings.

“Alright, everyone.” she called as the bell signalled end of class. “leave your drawings on my desk, you can continue tomorrow.” she clapped her hands to get their attention. One by one, she saw the students examining their drawings critically as they came up to submit it. Praveena gathered all the paintings and was about to lock them away when she saw a girl, too small for her age, still poring over her drawing at the back of the class. Praveena went to her and stood over her, watching. The little girl looked up, her eyes wide in fear, at Praveena.

Praveena smiled at her, “That’s a beautiful house,” she complimented, “shall we continue tomorrow?” she held out a hand, and the girl handed over her incomplete drawing. “Thank you,” Praveena smiled. She went over to the cupboard and locked the paintings away. She then turned to the students who were all on their feet. “See you tomorrow, girls” She waved a hand at them. As she turned to leave, she noticed Mr Andrew on the doorway.

Praveena swallowed. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Mr Andrew’s face reflected her shock. “Praveena?” he asked incredulously. “you are the new art teacher?” he shook his head in disbelief.

Praveena forced a smile. “Yes, Sir” she said. “How are you?” she inquired more out of courtesy than of concern.

“Fine,” he said in a flourish. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.” He walked past Praveena into the class room and Praveena left as soon as she could.

She was having lunch in her room when there was a curt knock on her door. She opened the door to Ms Marrie. “Hey, Praveena!” she beamed. “How’s work?”

Praveena smiled and gestured Ms Marrie into the room. Ms Marrie took the new chair Praveena had requested. “So, how is work?” Ms Marrie repeated.

“Ah, it’s great Miss!” Praveena gleefully replied taking her seat, facing Ms Marrie. “I love it,” she said, “but, I didn’t expect to run into Mr Andrew.” she sighed.

“Ah, yes” Ms Marrie smiled apologetically, “that, I forgot to tell you.” she smiled innocently. Praveena smiled, shaking her head. “he hasn’t changed much, has he?” she observed.

“Somethings never change,” Ms Marrie nodded.

“Are any of the old teachers still here?” Praveena asked tentatively, making Ms Marrie laugh.

“Selima left about a year after you finished,” smiling at the look of relief on Praveena’s face. “and the others too have left. It’s only Andrew and me now.” She finished laughing.

Anil called Praveena on Saturday morning.

“Hey, Praveena” he spoke softly. “how are you?”

Taken unexpected by his call, she replied delightedly. “I’m great! Sounds like MBA has softened you a bit,” she laughed teasingly.

“Maybe,” he laughed too. He had called to check on her and her experience teaching. They chatted away happily for about thirty minutes.

When she disconnected the call, Praveena felt her happiness double. She smiled to herself.

As months flew by, Praveena gained a lot of friends in the form of students. She was the teacher who respected them and agreed with them when they complained about the overload of homework.

Praveena felt like a child herself when she was with her students.

One day, during lunch, the little girl from the third grade came over to her room.

“Hello, Helen” Praveena greeted her, escorting the girl into her room and helping her sit. Praveena noticed Helen’s huge, black, bloodshot eyes. “What can I do for you, Helen?” she asked gently kneeling down in front of the girl.

All of a sudden, the girl began weeping and shaking uncontrollably. Praveena hadn’t expected this. Trying not to panic, she made an effort to console the girl. She hugged her, stroking her head reassuringly.

“Helen,” she spoke softly. “What happened?” She looked at the girl who stared back at her, eyes streaming. “It’s — my father,” she stammered, difficult to speak.

“What happened to him?” Praveena asked patiently.

Helen shook her small head vigorously. “Helen…” Praveena urged quietly.

The girl sniffed away tears, trying to speak. “Dad,” she began “drinks every day and beats Mom asking for money. He hit me today,” Praveena watched helplessly as the girl’s eyes swelled with tears.

That evening, Praveena went home determined to help the girl. She wanted to talk to the girl’s father and explain the impact of his behaviour on his child.

“Pa,” Praveena spoke to her father as he came home that night. “Hmm?” he looked at her. His expression grew worried as he saw Praveena’s disturbed face.

Praveena told him of the day’s events. Kamal listened with a rising sense of dread. He didn’t like where this was going. “I’m going to talk to the father,” Praveena said with an air of finality, “and I want you to come with me,” she added and paused for his reply. She was ready to argue with him if he disagreed.

To her utter surprise, “I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” he said and left for his room.

Praveena stood in the living room, dazed.

Together Forever

Holding hands, they strolled

into jail.

It’s been a while, and I decided to get back to some six-word stories. Share some of yours too, I’d be delighted to read them.

 

Chapter Forty Seven: Change is Good

Ms Marrie escorted Praveena through a path she knew so well, but it all seemed new somehow. She guessed Mr Kareem had been doing well as new principal. Ms Marrie stopped in front of a door that had a tiny metal plate with the words,

Kareem,
Principal.

Praveena turned to Ms Marrie in astonishment. She remembered Principal Vanitha’s name plate, which listed her degrees. Smiling to herself, Praveena rejoiced the school was in responsible hands.

“He’s expecting you. Go ahead.” Ms Marrie smiled reassuringly gesturing Praveena to go inside. Praveena knocked once and a gruff voice told her to enter. She did. “Good morning Sir,” she smiled walking up to his table.

A well-built middle aged man, Kareem had dark and overgrown flyaway hair. He wore a black short-sleeved shirt, and Praveena noticed a pair of spectacles lying untouched on his desk. He had his locked palms resting against his chin examining a piece of paper as Praveena entered.

“Please,” he smiled courteously at Praveena “call me Kareem.”

Praveena’s mouth fell open. She quickly closed it, but not before he had seen it. He laughed, a soft and musical laugh.

“So,” Kareem said once he had stopped laughing. “Ms Kamal. Why don’t you take a seat?” he gestured at the chair facing him. She did, thoroughly nonplussed at the principal’s behaviour.

“Now, Ms Kamal –” he began, but stopped short, “mind if I call you Praveena? It’s a bit easier,” he smiled. Praveena noticed the way his eyes crinkled every time he smiled.

“Please,” she replied easily. For the first time, she felt comfortable in this room.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “Praveena,” he said in a more serious tone, “you are an old student,” she nodded, “so you would know this place quite well. I’ve made changes to this school, and hope you like them.”

“What if I don’t?” Praveena asked playfully. She regretted it the very next second. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. But Kareem didn’t look angry, he didn’t even look irritated. Instead, he smiled slightly. Praveena hadn’t expected that.

“Well, if you don’t like it,” he smiled “you don’t have to.” He continued, laughing at Praveen’s shocked expression.

Praveena took some time to recover. “I’m sorry,” she said her eyes cast down.

“Don’t be!” Kareem exclaimed joyfully. “I like your enthusiasm.” Praveena looked at him smiling slightly. He returned the gesture.

“Well,” he grew serious again, “we need an extra teacher, and I’m personally glad we could get an old student for the position. We’ll discuss your salary later, but first, I think your students are waiting to meet their new class teacher.” he raised his eyebrows. “Marrie will show you your class. Good luck, Praveena!” he stood up and smiled.

Praveena stood up as well. “Thank you, Sir –” Kareem glared at her, and she quickly corrected herself, “Kareem,” she nodded with a smile and left the room, satisfied with herself.

They didn’t say anything to each other but Praveena’s look conveyed everything Ms Marrie had wanted to know. Praveena’s joy was obvious.

Ms Marrie led Praveena through familiar corridors. She went past her own room and stopped in front of the next one.

“Ta-da!” she exclaimed gleefully, gesturing at the closed door. “Welcome to your room,” she smiled.

Praveena hadn’t expected her own room. Ms Marrie opened the room and Praveena walked inside. There was an empty desk with a chair in the centre of the room. Apart from that, the room was void of furniture or decoration. The walls were bare except for the gleaming white paint.

“You can decorate it any way you want.” Ms Marrie announced. Praveena wheeled to face Ms Marrie who leant on the doorway looking bemused at her astonishment. “Kareem’s rule” she added.

“Come on,” Ms Marrie gestured. Praveena walked out of the room, and Ms Marrie handed her the key. Praveena didn’t know what to make of all the strange, but wonderful things Kareem had done to her school.

Ms Marrie next stopped in front of a class Praveena recognized as her classroom during the final year in school. They were the senior-most students, and it was another surprise to see all the students conversing in low tones. Praveena looked at Ms Marrie, suddenly nervous. “Go ahead.” Ms Marrie smiled reassuringly with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

Praveena took a deep sigh, and thinking of James’ first class in college, walked inside the room.

As soon as she entered, a hush fell through the room. She placed her file on the table and faced the students. There were about fifty of them, and Praveena saw eager eyes staring into hers. On the walls hung random paintings and crafts. A particular origami peacock that sat in a corner table caught Praveena’s eye.

Suddenly, she felt comfortable in the room. They were students, they were here to learn something, ‘not unlike yourself,’ her inner voice finished her thought.

“Hello everyone,” she began simply. “I’m Praveena, an old student, now your class teacher.” she smiled. All of them stood up in unison, and said greeted her in one voice, “Welcome back, Ms Praveena.”

Praveena was taken aback. The students, just like their principal, had a way of making new people feel comfortable and welcome.

The first day was smooth. The students were easy to talk to, they were a curious lot and Praveena told them about herself and learned their names.

Suddenly a girl stood up and asked, “What subject do you teach, Miss?”

“I’m a substitute. And…” she stalled. “It’s my first day. Must we talk about work?” she asked smiling. So did the girl, whose name was Grace.

For the first time in her life, Praveena looked forward to school the next day.

Being Messy

being messy

Whether you’re sulking about life, complaining about the neighbour’s loud kids, or panting from running away from a street dog, sometimes, one good piece of writing is all you need to calm yourself and see beyond your range of vision.

This poem was one of those. There’s so much to life than being fresh and clean all the time. There’s more than a well-made bed, laundered linen, warm meals, chilled wine, and a comfort zone.

This poem reminded me: There’s life in being messy.

Dirty Face

Where did you get such a dirty face,
My darling dirty-faced child?

I got it from crawling along in the dirt
And biting two buttons off Jeremy’s shirt.
I got it from chewing the roots of a rose
And digging for clams in the yard with my nose.
I got it from peeking into a dark cave
And painting myself like a Navajo brave.
I got it from playing with coal in the bin
And signing my name in cement with my chin.
I got it from rolling around on the rug
And giving the horrible dog a big hug.
I got it from finding a lost silver mine
And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine.
I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears
And from having more fun than you’ve had in years.

– Shel Silverstein