the little birdie

We were on our way to the Biology Lab for our last practical of the school days. It was our XII std. We were to leave the school within a month. I was the last in the queue, something to which I was accustomed for a long time, given I was the tallest among the girls. As I stepped inside, something in my head said, this is the last time you are stepping into this room. Then I slowly followed the others to our respective chairs. As I was about to pull and sit, I saw a sparrow-specimen, dipped in formalin, on the shelves. Of course I knew it. No feather on her body gave away that she wouldn't flap them and fly away any moment. I marveled at the flawless beauty nature created all around us. And every time I thought its creativeness cannot get any better, it surprised me yet again and again. I think it enjoyed the look on my face. The look of shear shock and admire together. I continued looking at her feathers, her eyes, her colour, her proud posture that she can be above all once she takes off. But... She wouldn't, she couldn't. She was there for nearly seven years now. But...I knew her even before that...when her was alive.

It was a sunny morning and all the windows of our V std. classroom were open except the one in the middle. It was ajar but not wide open thanks to the rusty hinge. Suhani, the Class-Monitor, had registered a complaint against it the other day, but it was yet to be mended. Our Mathematics teacher, Mr. Laxman entered the classroom with a wide smile on his face. He said,"Today we will learn 'How to round off numbers’." It was then that he spotted Jay talking and started scolding him, when he was in the middle of his scolding, everybody’s attention was attracted by a loud 'thud' from somewhere near the window. He went there to find out the cause of the noise with a oh-I-am-no-less-than-Sherlock-Holmes look, though he had a lot of hair and lacked a hat. Then he said mysteriously, "Look! It seems today we have an injured guest to attend to." He carefully took a handful of brown substance with a lot of feathers and kept it on the teachers' table for everybody to look at it. Khwaish asked innocently "Woo! Is it a bird?” He replied, "Yes my dear. But it is unconscious." A boy brought his water bottle to sprinkle some water on her. Simi came up with her Lunchbox to feed her with. Everybody was anxious to see her get well soon. After sometime Mr. Laxman told, “I think we need to inform the Biology Lab Assistant.” Jay prompted, "Sir do you mean to say 'the Doctor’?" He replied, "No boy. This bird is dead. We need to take it to the Biology Lab to preserve it as a specimen that will help your seniors in their study and you, when you grow up." Everybody was silent. A few drops of tears followed the announcement. Then the bird's body was taken away. The bell rang and we went out for Physical Education Class. Everybody played 'Dog n the Bone' with the exception of a few, who were still moaning for the bird or busy gossiping. Yes! girls are capable of gossiping even at that age.

Next day the window was fixed. Everybody was back to normal now. And slowly I also forgot her.

Today it was goodbye time. For me, for everyone around me, and for her.

Then Meena Madam said, “Come on girls. Don't take the whole period to settle down. We have a lot to finish today. We will start with the last practical about the Epithelium Tissue......."

co-incidences

sitting in ur room at nyt... all alone... what do u do?? well what u do myt have a long list of listables and non-listables bt what i do is get online and jst roam arund the world wide web... tired of doing it... i landed on to "my blog" once agn...after ages ofcourse..d inconsistent me.. i read my fst n only blog n smiled at my own words as the were appearing alien to me...wen i get to d last lyn..sumthn happend..

"Happy gandhi jayanti to all??!!!" now that confuses me and a bulb sprang to light sumwhr... it is gandhi jayanti...today ... so its been exactly two yrs since i rote that blog and now dat makes me wonder if this is a sign that i shud rty agn... to be what i am not... consistent .. or may b i am.. consistent in atleast being non-consistent in everythn...