Amidst all tussle with politics and empty trashes, I breathed out a great relief today.
Today, when the second period was over, a boy of Class VII came close to me and said, "Sir, here is a pen for you! Take it!" He touched my feet in profound respect while his sentence was still half way to finish.
"Yes, Sir, today I have bought a pen for you."
"I am enjoying my birthday today. Sir, please..., don't let the gift go into my satchel."
I accepted the priceless gift and touched his forehead.
The student hails from a poor family. His father works as a labour in a mansion-building group. His mother lets herself drop at four houses as a house-cleaner. He is even poorer than most other fellow students. Still he has bought a pen for me to show respect. Respect is not a one-way traffic, it has its own mutual class. It is, like inspiration, infectious. After a moment's hesitation and troubled tongue, I managed to ask him his desire. He again touched the core by saying the following row of words,
"Please bless me so that my father may extend my education life."
He was burning in poverty and glowing like a jubilant candle flicker. I tunneled my fingers through his obedient tuft of hair and released him.
He got released. When his unfortunate boyhood danced along the corridor, I tried to realize his pleasure and pain through his falling shadow, which was growing day by day to shadow his future.
I had my strength restored. The student might have no recommended book, he might have broken the rules of the well-off society. But he is a twig of love and purity, and an unchallenged myth.
I am alone with my computer now. I couldn't say that I can't shed blessings. What I can do is but blog a wish.
And that's why - I am whispering a wish to your blinking heart, my dear student,
"Happy Birth Day! May you live long and add my earthly span too."