"Shhhhh. How many times I have told you, I want Pin-Drop silence in my class!", Miss. James shouted thunderously. The back-benchers hurriedly repositioned themselves back on to their seats. "Note down your today's homework". Everybody quickly took out their slim H.W. notebooks and pointy ink-pens. Miss. James wrote on the black-board, 'Write an informal letter to your father. The letter should contain your progress in studies and a request for additional money to buy a new cycle.' Everybody tried to match up to the teacher's speed and finish writing. Suddenly, the bell rang. "I want this complete by tomorrow. I will check every notebook!" she maimed her throat pointlessly as at that point of time, kids wouldn't even listen to Doraemon himself. Bags were packed. Students dispersed like bees from a stone-hit hive. School was over.
Next day again, English was the last class. Last 10 minutes of the school were remaining. It seemed Miss had forgotten about the homework. Out of nowhere, "Sharad!", she ordered. The class monitor Sharad stood up. "Collect all the notebooks. Let me see everyone's work. If at all you learn anything I teach you. And yes, those who haven't completed the homework please stand up."
Two boys stood up reluctantly.
"Stand up properly!" she bellowed. "So, Pawan what is today's excuse? Enlighten us!".
"Mam! Actually , actually I was not feeling well yesterday. So I.. I"
*Taappppp* ... Echoed the voice of cane hitting the palm. Pin-Drop silence was finally achieved.
"Shreyas, you too? Any problem?" Miss concerned. She knew Shreyas was the class topper.
Shreyas calmly put forward his hand and said "Sorry Miss. I forgot."
*Taappppp* ... The echoes were definitely louder this time. And the loudness of each blow surpassed the previous one.
Harish who was sitting besides Shreyas, couldn't bear it anymore, he interrupted, "He has written the letter Miss. I have seen. I don't know why he is not showing it to you. Here, see yourself", he handed over Shreyas's English Notebook to teacher.
"No Miss! I have not written", appealed Shreyas, but by that time Miss. James had reached to the page.
He had indeed written the letter. Tears emerged from Shreyas' eyes. Miss. James couldn't fathom what was going on. The bell rang. Everybody ran out of the class. Shreyas trudged behind weakly.
At her home, Miss. James started checking all the letters. She couldn't wipe out Shreyas' crying face off her eyes. She searched for his notebook. 'Why was he lying? Even after getting hit, why did he keep denying?' questions clogged her mind. She started scanning the letter, it read :
Dear Dad,
I hope this letter finds everybody there in the best of health and happiness. It gives me immense joy to inform you that in my class periodical test, I have got above 95% in all the subjects and stood first in my class. I hope to repeat my performance in the annual examination. I am well here; you might have received my progress report... oh wait, have you received it? I had requested to Ganeshji that day. The problem with heaven is; there is no confirmation or receipt of Request Approval. Oh, don't look at the letter in disbelief now. Did you really think that "Beta, your Dad has gone far far away to work" lie was going to work forever? I am in 7th now. I understand death. People die. They go to heaven. God takes good care of them. The only criteria is you have to be more than 50 years old. Otherwise, you go to hell. Where they fry you in hot oil. Really Hot Oil! Damn! So, the point is, I understand everything. And I can't wait to be 50 years old!! Must be so much fun there. I wonder why Mom has not died and joined you. Maybe, she doesn't want to leave me. But, don't worry. I don't blame you for leaving me. I would have done the same!
You always asked, "What do you want to become when you grow up?" and I never answered. Because, I could never find a perfect answer. The only available two options seemed total non-sense. Engineering has to be really dumb. Our neighbor Vermaji's son is doing it. And he doesn't even know the definition of 'Milk Pasteurization'. And the second option. Doctors. They stop people from dying. Lets not even discuss how idiotic that is! So, I was confused. But your death helped me find a perfect job. I have decided that when I grow up I will become an Astronaut. I will invent a Postal Service which will ensure the communication happening both ways from Earth to Heaven. All these scientists keep having Missions to Mars but no one tries to fly to Heaven. Naive people. I am learning Gravitational Force in our Science lessons, I am sure we can use it to start a channel. Anyway, I should stop babbling now; this must be all gibberish for you. I mean, forget other planets, you didn't even know capital of Germany, when I asked you! But then again, you were a Maths teacher, how much would you know about Geography and Science. I could never beat you in three-digit numericals. I respect you for that.
To every apologetic visitor we have on random evenings, Mom smilingly says 'We are doing good'. But if you ask me Dad, we are struggling. Our old home has been sold off. This rented house creaks at night. There are so many Mice here; it can pass off as Ganeshji's Garage. The rain-drops leak through the bathroom ceiling. A natural shower thing is going on there. Hear the creaks, feed the mice, catch the raindrops and still pay the rent. To meet the ends, Mom started working at City Hospital. She is still fighting the case against the car owner who hit you. The lawyer's fee is too much. In fact, I even thought about becoming a Lawyer after hearing his fee. The car owners, Mehra family pays frequent visits. Mom sends me inside every time they come. I hear noises. I believe they shout at Mom for continuing the case. I feel like getting out and hitting them for hassling my Mom. But I am small. They would hit me. If by mistake, I get killed, I would have to go to hell. I can't take that risk. So I stay silent in the bedroom. If you ever get past that scary snake Dad, do tell Shankarji to open his third eye on the Mehra family.
I worry about Mom. She stays strong through the day, but through the transparent sheets, I have seen her sob at nights. You don't worry though, I am working on it. That day, when your favourite 'Lag jaa gale, ki fir ye hasi raat ho na ho...' was being played on the radio, her eyes welled up. I noticed and the very next second, I deliberately fell from the sofa. The swelled up knee was surprising though, since according to the Gravitational law, the force should have just created a normal bruise. Anyway, it took away her attention. The next hour she was busy applying the ointment and cursing my carelessness. See, how carefully I am being careless! You know, our life was like an 'Isosceles Triangle' Dad. You two were the equal sides and I was the base. Without you, our triangle is broken. The lingering acute angle is a complete mess. I am trying to take your place. To be the second equal side. Your memories will be our base. I hope I succeed in shaping the triangle back again. I believe, I might be the only student in my school, who really means when we sing 'We shall overcome one day'.
I was supposed to ask you for Money to buy a new cycle. But really, my old atlas is doing just fine. I have given an antique feel to it. Even told Gupta aunty that this was the same cycle Milkha Singh paddled! Like my cycle, there was no break to her 'OMGs' after that. Ohh, there is so much to tell you Dad. I would trade any cycle in the world for just a day with you. I miss you. I miss our cricket. I miss our Sunday trips. I miss you clicking my pics. I miss you dropping me to school. I miss the pride on your face when I stood first in class. I miss the two of us watching 3D movies in theatres. Its crazy, but I even miss your cursing.
There, I let out all my vulnerabilities. I am not grown up na, it feels really odd to contain your emotions inside. Our little secret, ok? I hope Naradji hasn't affected you.
Now, back to being brave. Exactly what the situation demands. For this huge huge responsibility. You have trusted me with taking care of World's most beautiful woman Dad. I just cannot afford to disappoint you. Historically speaking, Shivaji won the Torna Fort at 15 years of age. Gandhiji got married when he was 13. And neither of them scored 98% in their 7th Standard Mid-Term exams. So, our chances of making through are bright!
Bye Dad. Be well. Careful about dancing with Apsaras. If ever somebody whatsapps that pic to Mom, she will kill you.
Your Loving Son,
Shreyas
Hey Indra, if you have read the letter on the way. I swear I will hit you with your own Vajra.
P.S. - I showed this letter to Anil (My best friend before Today). I also told him I had seen all the Heaven Processes in detail in my Dream last month. And how even my dreams are always logical & true. But he betrayed me and showed the letter to our entire cricket team. They are all laughing at me. Calling me psycho. They say 'Your dad is Dead. Gone. Vanished.' But, I know you are there. I can feel your presence. I will prove them wrong one day. For now, I must not show this letter to average IQ common people. They won't understand.
Miss. James wiped tears off her cheeks. These last few months, she had been on a pregnancy break. She had no idea about Shreyas' father. She rued her harshness in the class. The next day, all the notebooks were returned with a 'Seen' remark. Shreyas checked his notebook. His eyes lit up. He looked at Miss. James. She was already looking at him. A smile was exchanged. The remark on his letter read, 'Seen and Believed. Our little secret.'
