An Innocent Boy

"A true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."

- G. K. Cheserton

Behind the grey colour passing clouds, in an early morning, pleasant sun reluctantly emerges with the pleasant light. Huge well, situated out of the village, is completely deserted unlike every day. As birds coo and sing, leaves enjoy the rustling hug of the wind.

An abrupt noise of bomb shakes the silence, frightening the birds and the pleasantness of the morning sun. Far away, in the village, a cloud of dust disseminates darkness all over the place. Fire is set ablaze to devastate the village into mere rubble.

"We are moving. We are moving." shouts a commander to his fellow army men.

All soldiers leave the village at his command, except a group of soldiers assigned for finding the remaining survivors and killing them. To accomplish their target, they check in each and every hut, searching for survivors. Thinking themselves as a true patriot, they indiscriminately kill everyone in their way. 

A soldier enters into a hut, searching for any survivors. As the soldier does not find anyone, he sits in a corner of the hut. He crawls into the kitchen in search of water and finds nothing but the broken pots. He puts his gun and knife down on his side.

His heart pants and his eyes feel the pain, looking at the blood on his knife and the wild fire coming out of burning hut. He lights a cigarette and leaves the hut.

Carrying a gun on his shoulder as if carrying true patriotism for his country, he looks around at what he has done.

"Come over, here!!!" shouts his partner from the opposite hut, "I need your help."

He runs into the hut and finds his partner being shot just below his right shoulder. He puts his gun down and helps him lie down comfortably. 

"How did this happen?" yells at his partner.

"That Jackson. He came into the hut, breaking the door and searching for survivors. Little confusion... That's it." explained his partner in pain.

Withstanding the suffering from the pain, his partner tells him, "Take out the bullet with your knife."

As he tries to take it out, his shivering hand does not find the knife. He turns back to the door and realizes that leaving his knife back in the opposite hut.

His partner in pain enquires, "What happened?"

As he is about to reply, there comes a dull voice from outside of the hut, "Sir... Sir..."

Leaving his partner safely in the hut, he hurriedly runs out carrying his gun. He finds a dull-looking small boy, around the age of five, standing in front of him. He points the gun at his head, without thinking of anything.

The small boy takes a knife out of his pocket and shows it to the soldier, saying that, "You left this knife in the opposite hut, sir."

He gazes at the small boy, still pointing the gun at him. Without knowing what to do, he turns back into the hut and looks at his suffering partner and then at the boy.

An Utter Dark Evening

  

The corridor looked deserted when I was walking to my room. It was filled with the light as my eyes with the sleep. I opened my room, intending to have a sound sleep. I switched on the lights that showed the congestion of my room. A small insect ran under the cot and hid itself for living some more days. Looking at the room, I felt like arranging the things properly. But, I fell down on the bed with the intention to sleep.

As soon as I lay down on the bed, the room bcame dark as if the light itself fell asleep. I got up from the bed and realized the power cut everywhere. I was feeling very tired. I sat down on the cot and thought of what to do.

I started walking in the utter dark corridor towards the wash room with my mobile light. I entered  into the washroom and kept the mobile on the washing machine,  facing the mirror for the reflection. Then, I inclined my body down towards the tap and washed my face.  When I leaned back and  looked at the mirror, I was aback looking at a reflection of  woman coming behind towards me. I suddenly turned around and saw nothing but the empty room.

The cool breeze entered into the wash room through the broken glass window to my right. The twinkling of stars mesmerized me and attracted with its glitter.

I started walking to the terrace taking my mobile light. As I was passing each and every floor up to the terrace, my body felt the chillness of the wind. I finally reached the terrace and was looking at the hostel building under construction.

I walked towards the side wall and looked at the glittering lights of the city. It looked as if it were the glittering gems in the jewels box. Then, the siren sound of a train travelled with the wind and reached my ears. In sometime, I could hear the sound of train came towards me as if it was ripping off the silence filled around me in the utter dark terrace.  

I witnessed the fast- moving train as its compartments’ lights disturbed the darkness on its way. Looking at the train, I moved my head from left to right as it was heading towards its destination. The train sound finally faded away towards its destination.

Once again, the silence and the dark gripped the place around me as if they had won the battle with sound and light of the train. As I turned around and looked at the utter darkness of the terrace, my tongue slightly started wetting my lips. I then realized I was shivering a bit.

Without knowing what to do, I looked up at the sky. The clouds, at least to my knowledge, were leisurely assembling to make a large cloud for a heavy rain from different directions. As a rival, stars attractively twinkled to make the walking clouds less noticeable.

I walked on the terrace looking at the international Men’s hostel and found the electricity was back. Looking at the stars and walking clouds, I decided to leave for my room. I not only came to terrace unwillingly but also left the terrace unwillingly. 

From Change-ful Guy to Change-less Guy

CHANGE alone is eternal, perpetual and immortal

                                                                        Arthur Schopenhauer

When I was young, I used to be a slow bloomer, at least, according to some of my teachers till the fifth standard. Why do I start like this? I have forgot it. Honestly… Hmmm… Oh yeah… It is CHANGE. My teachers used to advise me -- sometimes, frankly speaking, shout at me -- “You have got to change yourself, Murali.”  

In this world, Change is an important, interesting word in any language. In my life time, I have often heard and read about the importance of change.

From the century, in which Bhagavad Gita was written and it is emphasized that “CHANGE is the only thing that does not CHANGE in this world” to 2009, when US President Barack Obama said, “Yes, We Can…. CHANGE is what we need” in his presidential election, the word “change” has been used for many connotations and significant situations.

Interestingly, in India, at least in the southern part of India to my knowledge (Sorry for my poor Socio-Linguistic Knowledge, as it is in pathetic situation), we use the word 'CHANGE' for remaining money or amount, especially coins (in Tamil, It is SILLARAI).

Now, what is the problem here? Why do I tell you all this? It is because the Change (SILLARAI) itself is a problem here and the problem is for me.

                                                        

This incident happened in Madurai, my native, when I first went back home from Hyderabad for Diwali in 2010. I did leave Hyderabad not just with my luggage, LOVE for my family and anticipation of meeting my friends, but importantly with some CHANGE (SILLARAI). In simple, I left Hyderabad as a "Change-ful guy".

Though I left Hyderabad as a "change-ful guy", hoping that I will reach home without any problem, I became "change-less guy" when I reach Madurai Railway Station. 

"You need THREE RUPEES change Murali!!!", I was thinking within myself. I came out of the train and felt the welcome breeze of the cloudy evening. People were hurriedly wading through the crowd for the expectation of meeting their family and the fear of threatening dark-cloud.  

As soon as I came out of the railway station, I put my luggage down on the vast platform and stood in among the fast-moving festival crowd. From a distance, I looked at a small Meenakshi Temple built on the platform, though not intending to pray, and an old woman selling Jasmine (Two prominent identity of Madurai City).

The lust for my city was kindled once more when the rain started drizzling down. Perceiving it as a pathetic fallacy, I felt it as "Happy restoration" as Wordsworth felt "tranquil restoration" when he went back to Tintern Abby, which I never understood in my classroom. Laughing at my stupid thoughts, I took my luggage and started running to bus station in the fear of getting drenched. 

As I was running to the bus station, fat rain drops started pouring down to celebrate Diwali in my home town. On the way to bus station, I jumped into a moving bus going to my place as soon as I noticed it.

The bus was partly filled; all the seats were occupied except the last row occupied by two men, sitting next to two side windows. Three or four men (though I am not sure) were standing near the steps. Wondering why they were standing, I sat in the middle of last row, putting my luggage down nearby me.

When I casually turned to the person on my left side, he winked and whistled at me, saying,"Maalai Vanakam Thalaiva! (Good Evening Lord)”.

Abruptly, I stood and maintained some distance, knowing that he was badly drunk. Notwithstanding the smell of alcohol (as I am a good and innocent boy who does not smoke and drink!J), I saluted him back from where I stood.

"Ticket… Ticket… Keep the appropriate change in hand when you buy ticket", shouts the conductor out of tension even in the partly empty bus. 

As soon as I heard the word CHANGE, I was remembered my problem of not having any change for my ticket. All I could find was one twenty-rupee note for a three-rupees ticket.

The conductor came to me and asked, "Where do you go?"

I replied, giving twenty-rupee note, "Give me one ticket for Avaniyapuram (my place)".

 "Why are you giving twenty-rupee note for three-rupee ticket?" He continued, “You think I am working in a bank to give you change whenever you ask me”.

"Hello… Hello… You think I am working in the bank to give you change. It is your responsibility to come with change" I shouted back at him like a true Maduraian (like IndianJ).

"If you have change, I will give the ticket. Or else, get down and come in next bus", He shouted at me.

“Hey… (in Tamil, it is Dai) conductor, you first give that brother a ticket or else I will start howling and disturbing”, irrespectively shouted at the conductor.

As the bus was going to the village, which was far away from the city, where the drunken-guy seemingly belongs to, the conductor was very afraid to shout back at him because of safety of the bus. There were several serious incidents happened because of small misunderstandings - especially to the government buses.  

The conductor told me in low voice, "If you have change, I will give ticket or else get down".

Having told this to me, the conductor went to chat with the driver - seemingly, the drunken-man had been creating trouble even before I came aboard bus. Wondering when will CHANGE come for this CHANGE problem in Madurai, I was waiting for the conductor to come back - not feeling like looking back at disgusting drunken-man. 

He came back after sometime and asked for change. Though I told him to take twenty rupee and keep the change, he refused to give me a ticket and irritatingly said: "Who want your money?"

Watching patiently all this, the drunken-man gave a change and bought a ticket for me against my inclination. He even refused to take my twenty-rupee note, saying: "If a human does not help each other, how can we live in this world". (in Tamil, Manusanu ku manusa ithu kuda pannalana appadi)

When the bus almost reached my place, I asked him: "How can I repay it to you?"

He laughed and told: "Give it to someone else searching for CHANGE in the bus like you." Looking at the drunken-man, I thought within myself, "Do you actually mean CHANGE as SILLARAI or alternative ideas for long-lasting CHANGE problem. Whatever it may be and how disgusting you look... You are still a great man!" 

Once the bus reached my place, I got off the bus and happily walked to my house in the drizzle of rain.

J The End J

Courtesy: Prof. Elango Natesen, The American College. 

A foolish cleverness

      “Are you ready, Raj?”  Karthick angrily yells from the kitchen at his son in the bedroom. 

     “Almost, dad,” Raj shouts back at his dad from the bedroom as he hurriedly writes the last part of his homework.

      As everyone, Raj does not like Monday morning. Though he is a studious and industrious student in the first grade class, he feels very reluctant to get back to the weekday life after enjoying the weekend.

      Raj’s mother died, giving him her precious life and leaving a great responsibility of raising him for his father. Karthick too takes care of his son by himself with no intention of another marriage and of sharing his son’s love with anyone else.  

      After hurriedly having breakfast, Karthick as usual sends off Raj to the school in the school bus.

“She is a devil,” Raj mutters as he is getting into the bus, staring at a gorgeous and doll-like girl, Isabelle.  He finds a seat and occupies it, thinking of his past two years of  life in the school. He reminisces how happy he was because of his teacher, Mary.  

“Oh... you are so cute!!!” said Mary when she first met Raj two years back. It still echoes in the heart of Raj. 

     But, the arrival of Isabella last year changed everything in the class. She became Mary’s favourite student because of her brilliance and dainty. 

     Entering into the classroom, he stares at the chair placed nearby Mary’s table in the first row. He curses Isabella once more for sitting on that chair and occupies a chair in the second row. 

     Mary enters the class angrily and orders the students to keep their eyes shut and be silent till she is back from the principal’s room. She also tells the student leader* to let her know about the students who speak or even open their eyes while she is away from the class. Setting everything and all students in order, Mary rushes out of the class to finish her other official work. 

After sometime, Mary returns to the class. The student leader points out the students, who opened their eyes. Mary flogs them up with a large and thin stick. 

Raj abruptly accuses to Mary, “Isabella opened her eyes.” 

Without thinking, Mary beats Isabella too. Seeing Isabella crying in pain, Raj smiles. Then, Mary comes Raj and asks him to show his hand. In confusion Raj stretches his hand and gets himself beaten up. He too starts crying in pain without understanding why he is flogged.

After the class time is over, Raj decides to meet his beloved teacher in the staff room. He reaches the staff room and stands near the door staring at Mary. Now, She looks like a devil to him. 

Raj goes to Mary and hesitantly asks her, “Why did you beat me?” She raises her eyebrows and replies, “How did you know she had opened her eyes without opening your eyes?”

He gazes at her in confusion and leaves the room without speaking anything. As he leaves the staffroom, he realizes his foolish cleverness…

Note:
*Student leader: The student who watches over other students while the teacher is not in the class                                   room