It was one fine morning in college. I was strolling towards my class avoiding the gazes around, for the fear of ragging.
Suddendly I heard somebody calling my name from behind. A moment both of astonishment and fear grappled me. I didn’t look back. Again I heard my name and voice was coiming nearer. I turned back.
“Do you remember be?” asked that voice.
The girl having soda bottle glasses. Yes I remember- Haritha.
I was in 9th standard. That day I was in town government school representing my school for a literature quiz. But when the program started, I came to know that it was meant to be a team event ;and we two lone persons made an intra school team and won the quiz. Next stage was the state level competition. The forth coming event was to be held in another district. I was disappointed and was sure my father won't take me that far to participate in a literature quiz that can't do any obivious help to my studies. The economic situation also wont allow him to spare his leave and to bear the expenscan't the journey. But I wanted to go. we were asked to confirm the participation. I could not leave the opportunity. I gave an yes. As expected, situation at home was not in favour of me going to the competition. I cried, pleaded - no way. I didn't call and inform the co ordinators my inconvience. I waited for any miracle to happen. The date was hardly a week away. One misfortune happened in my family. My uncle passed away. The untimely death plunged the whole family into deep sorrow. Days ended up in mournings. Cremation ceremonies were going on and I had a visitor. All the senior men folk of the family were present when I went to the courtyard. There stood an old fragile man in a faded white dothi and similar shirt. It was Haritha's father.
"The competition is only two days away.Are you not participating? My daughter is in 10th class. It is her last chance. If you cant come, she can't participate." He was pleading. I also wanted to go. I looked at my father in hope. He was explaining the situation, "The deceased man's daughter has also some event now how can I send my daughter?" Again despair.
That old man was not looking more wealthy than us. He was weak. But his desire to make his daughter participate was at highs which have driven him to reach that far in search of my home. He pleaded again. No positive reply from father and relatives. He returned in despair. Sadness rushed to me. I too went back to room hiding my tears.
Now she is here infront of me as my senior. And these words slipped from my tounge “I am sorry ”
“Do you remember be?” asked that voice.
The girl having soda bottle glasses. Yes I remember- Haritha.
I was in 9th standard. That day I was in town government school representing my school for a literature quiz. But when the program started, I came to know that it was meant to be a team event ;and we two lone persons made an intra school team and won the quiz. Next stage was the state level competition. The forth coming event was to be held in another district. I was disappointed and was sure my father won't take me that far to participate in a literature quiz that can't do any obivious help to my studies. The economic situation also wont allow him to spare his leave and to bear the expenscan't the journey. But I wanted to go. we were asked to confirm the participation. I could not leave the opportunity. I gave an yes. As expected, situation at home was not in favour of me going to the competition. I cried, pleaded - no way. I didn't call and inform the co ordinators my inconvience. I waited for any miracle to happen. The date was hardly a week away. One misfortune happened in my family. My uncle passed away. The untimely death plunged the whole family into deep sorrow. Days ended up in mournings. Cremation ceremonies were going on and I had a visitor. All the senior men folk of the family were present when I went to the courtyard. There stood an old fragile man in a faded white dothi and similar shirt. It was Haritha's father.
"The competition is only two days away.Are you not participating? My daughter is in 10th class. It is her last chance. If you cant come, she can't participate." He was pleading. I also wanted to go. I looked at my father in hope. He was explaining the situation, "The deceased man's daughter has also some event now how can I send my daughter?" Again despair.
That old man was not looking more wealthy than us. He was weak. But his desire to make his daughter participate was at highs which have driven him to reach that far in search of my home. He pleaded again. No positive reply from father and relatives. He returned in despair. Sadness rushed to me. I too went back to room hiding my tears.
Now she is here infront of me as my senior. And these words slipped from my tounge “I am sorry ”
No comments:
Post a Comment