It was month of April 1989, the young kid was asked by her mother to get out of the bed and get ready for school. Immediately this kid pushed his elder sister, to wake her up.
Both left the bed and ran to the garden outside to catch the warmth of the early sun. They almost forgot about the school and started playing in the garden. They had a game of their own with language and cues of their own. The mother was happy to see the morning show put up by her two kids, but immediately the thought of the school stuck her mind again.
Angrily she commanded the kids to rush for bath, as the breakfast was getting prepared.
At last the kid was ready in school uniform like his sister. Shoes were mirror shining and crease was impeccable.
The mother had got hot steaming rice on the plate with curd and their favourite vegetable. No division, one plate full of happiness to be shared between the two. The mother would feed both in turns, as both were too busy jumping and playing in the garden. Not to mention this had more gratification for all who would want to hide behind stains of the uniform.
The rice was hot and that steamy aroma was the nectar of motherly affection. They both ate, only wanting more. The laziness was paramount, the mother would wash their soiled mouths too.
Breakfast was done, school bags were already packed since last night. The little boy and his elder sister were ready to go. There was a small journey of one kilometer walk to the bus stop.
The view and terrain covered during their everyday walk was quite beautiful. The little boy would search his pocket for a one rupee coin to get biscuit from the shop on the way. Finally they reached the bus stop. The noise too was soothing to the ears, as it mingled with the pleasant sound of the rushing water of the river nearby.
For both the siblings, the music of the flowing water was very different from what adults could hear. This was the music of their souls and they would again talk about some fun games and what not, till the bus arrived. For the little boy close to 8 years, the bus was a big fun ride with many options of seats to settle inside. The little boy would choose his seat and ask the elder sister to sit first. He played like a guard, more responsible and protective then his age.
As the bus reached the school, the two had to part. The boys and girls school had different buildings, with different names too. This part was a bit hard for the little boy. He did not have many friends at school or maybe he was too happy to play only with his sister, sharing his innocent dreams.
A last bencher by choice, the little boy hardly paid any attention to his teachers. He knew his mother, the real teacher, would make him study after school. His favourite activity was the prayer time, where he could sing loudly. He thought God would surely hear his voice and get him toys. To add to his favourite activity list, was the swimming classes. He never wanted to learn swimming, he enjoyed playing in the water and watching others take a dive from the dive board.
As the final bell rang, the little boy would rush to the other school building, to wait in the playground for his elder sister. He would think of stuff from the whole day, hatching a few exaggerated stories to tell his sister.
The little boy would hold the hands of his elder sister and embark the return bus. By now he would have finished telling his stories and wanted to cuddle in the arms of his mother. Dinner was again a lazy affair as he was fed affectionately by his mother. Finally now came the bed time story time. Each night a new story and lesson learnt from the mother. The little boy was having so much fun in his life, full of new dreams every night and loads of love.
Where is that little boy today ?