One day in the life of a 'C'

I sat in the room next to my best friend, she looked so pretty that day – hair neatly braided, teeth white and shining, so fair and beautiful. Didi walked into the room and sat on her chair and we all got up, said good morning and sat down on the floor. What an imposing figure Didi was. She always tells us what to do and what not do and I love her for that. Wait...who is this stranger now walking into the classroom?!

‘Children, he is here to observe the classroom so I want all of you in your best behaviour,’ Didi said clarifying my question instantly.

Test time. I had to write down Urdu letters from the blackboard. Ah, so difficult! Don’t know how my best friend does it. She is so quick and so smart. No one in the class can better her! There she goes to Didi with her notebook.

‘Well done, now go back, place your book upside down and do something else while the others finish.’

Place upside down! I almost laughed out. She is my friend, she will help me with the answers orally. I don’t have to look into her notebook. I nudged her as soon as she sat down.

‘Tell me… is this right?’

She peered slyly into my note and quickly turned her gaze away when she heard Didi cough. I nudged her again.

‘Tell.’

She looked at me and nodded. I cracked it. I knew I could get Urdu if not Maths.

I got up, walked over to Didi and flashed my book.

‘Are you sure you got it right?’ she said in that tone which suggested that I had drawn pictures of pigs on the note instead of copying Urdu letters from the board.

I put my head down, rolled my eyeballs towards my friend for confirmation. She was busy chatting with the other girl.

‘Why are you looking at her?’ Didi snapped. How did she know!

‘Yes, I think its right,’ I muttered.

‘Some kids, you can teach them how many ever times, in so many different ways, but they just don’t get it,’ Didi looked at the classroom observer and said.

Pity those kids I thought.

‘I mean, they look normal, talk normal, play normal, but when it comes to studies, they peter out fast.’

Poor things. I hope they someone find a way to study well.

‘Look at this one. She is healthy, strong, has a lovely smile, but she simply doesn’t get it.’

Wait! What! Me?! You are talking about me?!

‘Some research has to be done on these kind of kids.’

Research? What's a research? And what kind of kid was I?

I looked at the observer. He sat there smiling though it didn’t seem like he wanted to.

So I was bad after all.

‘Please do it right and bring. It is simple. Just look at the board and draw those things there. They are called letters.’ She circled three letters in her red pen and I went back to my place.

Why did my friend say they were right? Maybe she didn’t see them right. Ok, let me start all over again. Aah. Pencil lead broke. Now what!

I thought of asking her, but she seemed very engrossed in her work. And Didi was also keeping a watchful eye. What if she felt I don’t keep my things properly and another research needs to be done on that. So I went digging into the dark depths of my bag. There it was! Nope. Too small, my little finger was bigger than that. I dug more. Didn’t find any. Decided to go with the small one.

These curves, so tough they are.

‘Keep the book on the bag, beta. You will be able to write better,’ Didi’s told me in her calm voice.

That was a good idea. Start on top, curve to the right, and finish at the bottom. I looked up to compare with the blackboard and it was wrong. I didn’t get it, yet another time. Rubber time. Rubber? Rubber? Depths of the bag didn’t produce a rubber.

‘Let us move on to the next piece, children,’ Didi can’t wait for me for ever no.

How do I rub this mistake now before someone sees it. Finger. I looked left and right, everyone was staring at Didi. I rubbed my forefinger against the letter…it slowly disappeared but in a very bad way, leaving dark stains as it went. How clean my friend’s book looked and look at this one! No wonder everybody likes her. Clumsy me.

‘There are the As and the Bs that are doing all right, but then three children fall in the C category, with whom we have no idea what to do,’ Didi answered some question of the observer.

Her fingers pointed to me, one more girl, and that boy who always sat at the back.

I rubbed more vigorously, my damn mistake, it was not going away. What if the observer or Didi saw it NOW. When they are talking of me. I licked my finger and rubbed again. That usually doesn’t go wrong except for the occasional tendency to make a hole in the paper.

‘Why is that boy sitting there on his own by the drum?’ the observer spoke.

‘Oh he is one of the few As. He doesn’t want others to copy his answers. Very smart kid you see and children always want the easy way out and look into his notes.’

‘Oye, see what people ask of you. You want to sit inside that drum there? That way no one would be able to see even you, leave alone your answers.’

I laughed out loud. Didi can be really funny!

But I admired that boy. How confident he must be to not want to sit next to anyone in class. I will faint if I were made to do that. Imagine not being able to look into your friend’s notes. But someday I will get there. I will be so confident that I wouldn’t have the need to sit next to anyone. That day, I will go and sit alone, on my own and not show answers to anyone. Maybe to my friend, she has helped me a lot, but not to anyone else. Certainly not to that boy.

Didi left and my favourite sir walked in for Maths. Someone so nice shouldn’t be teaching maths! He should be a sports teacher or an arts teacher instead. Someday I will tell him that.

‘Ram bought a book for Rs 50 and gave it away for Rs 40. Was that a right thing to do? Don’t say the answer,, raise your hands.’

This was easy! I almost jumped up from the floor while raising my hand. My friend too did.

‘You,’ sir said pointing at me.

‘Right thing, sir.’

‘Right thing? Right thing?’

He was so surprised that I got the answer right. ‘Yes, sir.’

Sir, exchanged a glance with the observer. Am sure he felt proud of me at that moment.

‘Ok, you tell me,’ said sir to my friend.

‘Wrong sir.’

‘Why?’

But he didn’t ask ME why! Why??!!

‘Because it is a loss, sir. I would have sold it for Rs 60 for a profit.’

‘Shabaash. There comes the answer.’

But what if he is giving to a friend? It didn’t matter to give out a book to a friend. And not like I am giving for free anyway.

‘But remember, not everything is profit and loss. To friends you can give your things to share,’ sir continued as if he read my mind. But that is what I wanted to say. He should have asked me why!

Rest of the class went smoothly. I wanted to answer the next question, but sir didn’t see my raised hand. The question on multiplication was too complex, so I didn’t bother. The next question on addition was easy, but sir, I think, wanted to test the others, so I didn’t even raise my hand.

Final bell and I ran home.

Mom hugged me so tightly. ‘Beta…come come. I have been missing you so much! Did you enjoy your day in school today?’

‘Enjoy? I loved it!’

‘That is so nice beta. At least you can sit at school and come back though you won’t understand much.’

I didn’t even hear the rest of what she said, I was so hungry that I ran straight to get my plate.

*** Note - This semi-fictional account was inspired by the experiences of a girl in one of the government schools I visited in interior Rajasthan. Thanks to the ignorance of the teachers, there are many children like this across the nation that are being cast aside as poor performers with whom no real change can happen.***