vasudhas
5 Sentences
Raman sank to his knees on the plush carpet. Fingers clenched; then unclenched. His six year old son was in the hospital. “Glass cuts can be fatal at times”, the doctor had said. He visualized the little body swarmed with pipes and gauze. Raman shook his head with a jerk. Maybe that would undo it all.
“Boys can be like that”, he recalled the Principal’s words; “Yash and his classmate Anoop were in a tumble. Then Yash fell onto the aquarium. And…”. Raman had nodded, not wanting or needing to hear more. He had his son to take care of.
His hands fumbled to grab something, seeking comfort. Yash’s schoolbag. Out spilled the lunch, pencils, paper airplanes, crayons mixed with biscuit crumbs and books. He picked the small ruled notebook. The brightly colored stick-on was punctuated in Yash’s curved print handwriting.
Name: Yash Arora
Class: I-A
Subject: English
Raman almost groaned aloud, his usual reaction when Yash would insist on reading aloud his compulsory “5 sentences of the day” at dinner. Today, however, his ears seeked his son’s voice in those very words.
10-5-2008
My Family
My family is of me and my father.
My father goes to office.
He makes my lunch.
He is my hero.
I love my family.
25-5-2008
Picnic
I went with Dad to a picnic at the sports park.
We played cricket.
I hit 3 sixes and 7 fours.
We ate burgers and chips.
I had lots of fun.
10-6-2008
My Class
My class is I-A.
There are 30 children.
My friends are not in my class.
Paintings are stuck on the board.
Someone tore my painting.
21-6-2008
The Playground
My school has a big playground.
It has many slides and rides.
I want to sit on the big red swing.
The sand hurts when I fall.
I like playing alone there.
Raman paused as his fingers invariably crushed the pages. Why had he not “heard” his son? He had attributed the frequent scrapes to boisterousness and morning tummy aches to a penchant for cartoons. As silent tears coursed his cheeks he remembered the night when he had rocked Yash to sleep.
“My Best Friend
My best friend is Mr. Leopard and Mummy.
He is soft and sweet.
I hug him every night and sleep.
When I talk to him Mummy listens to me.
I always smile at Mr. Leopard when I get up.”
Raman sought the soft toy leopard Manisha had given Yash on his last birthday amongst a plethora of other gifts; before she had died in an accident. He carefully added it to the bag of other essential things he was carrying to the hospital. He pictured the cuddly animal beside his son, silently coaxing him to get better.
Raman’s eyes met the knowing chocolate brown gaze. The wide stitched grin told him everything would be just fine. And that Yash would smile when he woke up. Like he always did.
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Raman sank to his knees on the plush carpet. Fingers clenched; then unclenched. His six year old son was in the hospital. “Glass cuts can be fatal at times”, the doctor had said. He visualized the little body swarmed with pipes and gauze. Raman shook his head with a jerk. Maybe that would undo it all.
“Boys can be like that”, he recalled the Principal’s words; “Yash and his classmate Anoop were in a tumble. Then Yash fell onto the aquarium. And…”. Raman had nodded, not wanting or needing to hear more. He had his son to take care of.
His hands fumbled to grab something, seeking comfort. Yash’s schoolbag. Out spilled the lunch, pencils, paper airplanes, crayons mixed with biscuit crumbs and books. He picked the small ruled notebook. The brightly colored stick-on was punctuated in Yash’s curved print handwriting.
Name: Yash Arora
Class: I-A
Subject: English
Raman almost groaned aloud, his usual reaction when Yash would insist on reading aloud his compulsory “5 sentences of the day” at dinner. Today, however, his ears seeked his son’s voice in those very words.
10-5-2008
My Family
My family is of me and my father.
My father goes to office.
He makes my lunch.
He is my hero.
I love my family.
25-5-2008
Picnic
I went with Dad to a picnic at the sports park.
We played cricket.
I hit 3 sixes and 7 fours.
We ate burgers and chips.
I had lots of fun.
10-6-2008
My Class
My class is I-A.
There are 30 children.
My friends are not in my class.
Paintings are stuck on the board.
Someone tore my painting.
21-6-2008
The Playground
My school has a big playground.
It has many slides and rides.
I want to sit on the big red swing.
The sand hurts when I fall.
I like playing alone there.
Raman paused as his fingers invariably crushed the pages. Why had he not “heard” his son? He had attributed the frequent scrapes to boisterousness and morning tummy aches to a penchant for cartoons. As silent tears coursed his cheeks he remembered the night when he had rocked Yash to sleep.
“My Best Friend
My best friend is Mr. Leopard and Mummy.
He is soft and sweet.
I hug him every night and sleep.
When I talk to him Mummy listens to me.
I always smile at Mr. Leopard when I get up.”
Raman sought the soft toy leopard Manisha had given Yash on his last birthday amongst a plethora of other gifts; before she had died in an accident. He carefully added it to the bag of other essential things he was carrying to the hospital. He pictured the cuddly animal beside his son, silently coaxing him to get better.
Raman’s eyes met the knowing chocolate brown gaze. The wide stitched grin told him everything would be just fine. And that Yash would smile when he woke up. Like he always did.
Poll Rate this entry