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Content Tip
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Children's
Story Writing is a good creative outlet and can be used
to inspire others.
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A New Dawn
It
was just another day. Tired after a long day at school, Sidhant
walked home from the bus stop. He flung his bag on the bed, switched
on the air conditioner and lay down on the bed. He was alone at
home. His dad, Sanjay had gone for an official tour to China. Mom
Shabana had gone to office and would return home at 7. Sister Suhavini
had gone to college and would return late in the evening. So he
had five hours all to himself.
He went up to the
dining table where the maid had warmed the food. However he was
not in the mood to eat. Not after what had happened in school today.
It was recess time and he was making his way to the canteen. Suddenly
he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see-- a senior
was demanding money from him. Scared, yet determined not to give
his money he forcefully tried to remove the hand. This angered the
senior who took him to his gang of friends. “So you are not going
to give us money, are you?” “No” “Well then you leave us with
no option but to beat you up” “You can’t do that. I’ll report you
to the headmistress”
All the seniors laughed.
At the back of his eye Sidhant saw the headmistress walking by with
another teacher not even bothering to give a glance to what the
commotion was all about. Sidhant was beaten, slapped, kicked and
punched. At the end of it he was bleeding from the nose and aching
all over. All his friends were watching the “tamasha” yet no one
came forward to help.
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He made his
way to the school sanatorium where he lied that he had fallen
while playing football. He barely ate the food in front of
him. He wanted someone to tend to his wounds, to take care
of him, to give him assurance yet he knew that would not be
possible because everyone in his family was leading separate
lives without interfering in the others’. Sidhant would sometimes
not see his father’s face for days on end.
Weekends were
awkward days because no one actually knew what to talk to
each other. Though they did go out for movies and for eating
out yet Sidhant never felt as if they were really enjoying.
It was mostly a chore, whose responsibility his father took,
of taking them out at least once a month just for the sake
of doing so.
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Sidhant had
got his result today. He was in class nine and had stood second
in class with a total percentage of 92%. His scores in Math
had really improved and all his teachers were very happy with
him. Yet Sidhant wasn’t feeling any excitement on showing
his report to his family. Previously, no one had really bothered
to take a second glance at his report and apart from the customary
“well done” “keep it up” there wasn’t any real joy for him
and he doubted whether this time would be any better or—worse.
He came home
to an empty house as usual. Dad was back from his tour but
was coming late as he had a few conferences to attend. Suhavini
had said that she would not be coming home tonight as she
was spending the night at her friends place. That just left
Sidhant and his mother.
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Of all the people
in his family, he felt his mother was the one who took at least
a perfunctory interest in him, his school, his studies and thus
Sidhant felt closest to his mother. She came by 7:30 and by the
weary look on her face, he knew that she was tired. “Hi Mom, how
was your day?” asked Sidhant No response. Dejected, he went back
to his room hoping that maybe after her bath she might answer him.
Alas, it was of no avail.
“Mom I got my report
today” “Show it to me tomorrow, I am very tired today” she said
and went to bed. Hugely disappointed, Sidhant trudged back to his
room. This was the worst response he had got in years. And if Mom
had responded like this he had absolutely no hope from his father
or sister.
Months passed like
this and Sidhant did not find any change in his life. Even on his
fifteenth birthday, he did not call any of his friends and the day
passed like any other. He had become very quiet in school, his grades
fell and he wandered around by himself. The atmosphere at home went
from bad to worse. His father’s touring increased and Sidhant did
not see his face for weeks now. He brought him many expensive games
and gadgets from abroad but even they did not fascinate Sidhant
anymore. All he wanted was time but he could not get any from anyone.
His sister would come home after midnight from parties and more
than once Sidhant had smelt alcohol on her but no one seemed to
care. His mom too, became very busy in her work and came home later
than usual. Sidhant found himself eating alone even at the dinner
table.
His teachers were
worried—what had happened to the bright and cheerful Sidhant we
knew? As much as Sidhant tried to involve himself with his friends
and take an interest in his studies he could not bring himself to
it. His thoughts were only about his family. He felt that his mom,
dad and sister were closer to their friends and colleagues than
they were to each other.
It was Sidhant’s 16th
birthday. He had no expectations. His father had given him a play
station the night before, as he was to leave for Hong Kong in the
morning. Sidhant was not interested in it. It was lying unwrapped
in some corner of his room. The day at school passed as usual. Some
of his classmates who remembered it was his birthday wished him
and Sidhant was grateful to them. As for the others, he did not
care. He came home as usual and then headed for his two and half
hour tuition. As he reached home he saw that the house was pitch
dark. Probably the maid had gone home switching all the lights off.
As he switched them on, he saw his father, mother, sister and lots
of his relatives standing with gifts.
“But Dad, didn’t you
have to go to Hong Kong?” “Oh, I cancelled it. Nothing’s more important
than my son’s birthday” His mom came towards him.
“ I am really sorry
Sidhant. I have not given you any of my time nor have I taken interest
in your studies. I promise that I’ll devote more time to you from
now on.” “Me too.” chorused his father. How much time would they
actually give, Sidhant did not know, but his day was made. He was
looking forward to a new beginning, a new dawn...
Contributing
Story Teller Ayushmaan
Datta, I
am a student of class 11 from New Delhi and I am very passionate
about creative writing.
ayush.datta@gmail.com
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