Episode 1:The Wake Up Call

By P. Janavi

A glimpse of a creature with a broomstick and a kerchief tied over his

mouth covering half his face through my half opened eyes was a goofy

start to my early morning school days. My morning routine during my

school days started as a low box office film, slowly gearing up the speed

and making it an average box office movie and finally finishing the day

with a smashing super duper hit movie with a dramatic, explosive

climax making it a commercial hit for me. Oh! The creature was none

other the man of the house, my dad, wishing me a good morning with a

broomstick in his hand, don't misunderstand, oh he just came for

cleaning my room. I sing and dance with tap water lending its tunes

and music as I brush and bathe. I would soon pick up a book and start

writing something really important, Ah! it's nothing but the homework

given by my dreadful math teacher who would give piles and piles of

problems(sums) that would be as confusing as the design of a Jalebi. I

always remember to forget my school uniform in my grandparent's

home. I would muster enough courage to tell my dilemma to mom only

to earn a near death stare from my mom as I would gear up to bring

my uniform back. I would be so proud of myself, not for getting my

uniform but for being the fastest sprinter since I would run so fast

beyond my wildest imagination. As I dress up and I would start stuffing

food in my mouth and putting my lunch box into the lunch bag. A horn

sound ( most dreadful sound in the morning) would bring the final

showdown of the morning routine and my reminder to get my marks

card signed which would be beautifully decorated with multicoloured

inks as the time bomb ticks, my clock shows half-past eight, time for

me to board the bus and me yet at home. My mind on my marksheet.

My mom would turn up as a saviour by riding me to the bus stop.I

should credit my for her multitasking ability. One hand on the pan

another on washing machine, running all round the house for my so

very important ID card and not the least to mention her mouth using

choicest language on me knowing its going to be same the next day. I

call it her saharsa naam japa. I would board my bus with my marks card

not yet signed. At times I would even dare to miss my bus just as I

would be wearing the wrong uniform or wouldn’t have worn the right

shoes which is mandatory.( schools treat students badly had though we

had any less problems we have to remember the day and uniform to be

worn on the day) . My mom's eyes would spew fire over me as I show

the report card to mom through the window. Well, this is just the

beginning of my day. Other dramatic, explosive events unfold in the

school. As I rest my back on the bus seat panting for breath I close my

eyes. Suddenly a jerk not because of the brake but the thought of my

teacher's interrogation for not signing up the marks card. Let me pause

and meditate.

P. S. Whoever says school days are most carefree days please visit my

page. Of course, now living far away from home I have mastered the art

of multitasking

By P. Janavi