I could see the furrow on your brow wondering if I did go to school in the last couple of days since I have not mentioned anything about kids or school. Not you worry. Though I feel like I am being pulled over by a truck daily, I show up the next day. This is not to highlight any magnanimity but more to bring forth how one does not realize when days blend into the other.
Update on Raahail:
I still call him everyday but he has stopped coming to school. I have not seen him since Monday. His sister now answers the calls and gives me the kind of responses that a cold caller gets. (Baad mein call karo na, Raahail busy hai – that I do not understand till date, aaj woh baahar gaya hai)
Update on HM:
Karmic something has happened. She is now ill and has a bad pain in the joints. I am sympathetic and all but hell one has to bear the consequences in this lifetime for what one does
Update on Suraj:
Ok, you might not know this kid by name but you must have definitely heard of the kid who stabbed my hand with a compass. So he is one helluva maniac. He has loads of attitude issues, zero social skills and I do not even think he is capable of emotion. I am sorry. I cannot love unconditionally. I am simply not that big a person. I lost it yesterday and decided to go meet his parents. Suraj thought I was pulling a fast one and he was convinced that I would leave sooner or later because his mom comes only 8:30 and dad by 12. But I decided to wait if not for anything to prove him wrong. I reached his house by 5:45 after school. Waited with him for 3 hours in his house for his mother. I had his hand clamped down because he was trying to run and I knew there was no way I could hunt for him in that area. So three hours of one-on-one conversation with this kid told me how other than anger, obstinacy and insensitivity he refuses to display anything else. He steals money from his family. He laughs when his mother is holding my hand and crying. He was given 200 rupees to get kerosene for the gas stove. He nonchalantly tells me he ‘lost’ the money. He laughs when I ask him what happened to the money. His mother cries saying there is no money to buy kerosene for the week and this kid laughs. I think it was only because the mother was there, I could bring myself to not raise my hand on Suraj. He ‘lost’ another 500 rupees last month and money seems to constantly disappear around the house. I hold his parents accountable for what he is turning into. He is alone all day. He gets to see his mother from 8:30 in the night to 7 in the morning. He barely sees his father because the man comes home at 12 midnight and leaves by 7. So our Suraj is a free man all day with no one to ask him anything. Which is precisely when faced against authority in class, he reacts the way he does. He apparently runs away from home once in a while to remind his parents why they should not shout at him. He holds his breath to throw a tantrum
You know it is a lie. I do not love all my 42 kids equally. I cannot bring myself to. I know on an ideal level I am wrong. But somewhere within me I know I would be lying if I did not acknowledge this. I do not play favourites. But I sure cannot love unconditionally.
That day I spent 4.5 hours in Suraj’s house. I know his mother thinks I am god’s gift to mankind. But that kid now hates my guts. I have banned him getting any money from his parents and his parents now are allowed to call 24/7 to report any tantrum. I also made sure to announce loudly that the next time anyone sees him holding his breath they should leave him alone and mind their own business.
Update on Sumit:
You have not heard about Sumit at all. He is one of those people I have parked aside in my class because I do not have the physical capacity to be after him. Today I found out that he claims to come to school for the extra classes I take and instead goes and does “dhandha” in signals and gets “maal” from Thane. I have no idea what dhandha or maal is..I am yet to figure it out since I found out only today evening that this was happening…
Malory Towers, St. Clares etc were so innocent. My school stories read like Karamchand or something. Sigh…