When I opened my eyes I found myself surrounded by shiny paper and pieces of the cardboard box in which I had been. Waiting for a breath of fresh air. When I adjusted my eyes to this sudden flash of sunlight, I noticed a little boy, chubby, with soft pink fingers. He had a small nose on his little pink face reddened by the chill outside, his hands moving slowly towards me. Then he grabbed me, fondly judging my new coat of paint.
A sudden blast of voice rattled my ears, “Ravi come soon, breakfast is ready.” He hurriedly went to another room, still clutching me tightly. The room was bright and sunny. Cool breeze flowing in through the window. The walls were covered in flowered paper. A big oak round table in the middle of the room surrounded by six chairs. At the center of this table was a yellow porcelain flower vase filled with fresh blooming red roses. A lady wearing a lavender hued saree was serving food to a young girl who was merrily waving to Ravi, “Hi! Big brother do you crave for some hot paranthas mumma made.” She must be her sister, I thought. Her mother looked squarely at her. She happily resumed gorging down her morsels. On one of the chairs sat someone I could not comprehend as he was holding a newspaper before him. He was reading something very intently unaware of the tea getting cold kept in front of him. Ravi stuffed me in a big red bag. It smelt of wood of the sharpened pencils, the pleasing smell of new books and copies mingled with smell of chocolates and the smell of hot steaming paranthas from a little green box kept in front of me. I looked around, everything was dark, yet comforting. I knew I was safe here.
When I saw sunlight again I was in an altogether different scene, surrounded by at least a dozen children each one passing me from one to another. Some holding me gently, while the others tossed me. Ouch! He almost popped my eyeball out of its socket, such a naughty boy. Another girl pulled my ears. Some stroked my tail while another one was coming towards me with a shiny pointed object and “swish”. I was again safe in the hands of Ravi, panting. He scolded her,” Don’t prick my horse with your compass, it’ll hurt him.” Just then came a lady with a hooked nose and a pair of black-rimmed glasses was resting on it. Her small yet piercing eyes compelled everyone to sit at their places. She came slowly towards Ravi and surprisingly said in a soft voice, “ Happy Birthday Ravi, congratulations, but please keep that toy inside, it causes disturbance.” He quietly kept me on a shelf beneath his table. From this place I had a clear view of the front of the room. This was his classroom and she his teacher. She was writing assiduously something on the black board covering the whole of the wall. Her black hair tied in a neat bun rested on her head like an apple kept on a pumpkin.
To be continued
