Clinging to the ground


Our school used to begin at twelve in the afternoon, so we had our tuitions in the morning at 9:30 for one and half an hour. So we got up early to go to our tuitions and even did our mathematics and history chapters that were supposed to be done. With us there used to be many children who would attend the tuitions at that time. One among them was Shivraj. He was a very notorious kid, always making our teacher run behind him. Though not so good in studies, he would entertain us enough to pass the tuition time easily. 

Coincidentally, one morning, he too wanted to go home early. So he was also allowed to go home at eleven clocks, the same time around when we were off. So when we came down from the building, where our tuition was taken, we saw a group of grown-ups playing cricket. So to get out of the society, to get to the gate, there were two ways, either go through a tunnel-like road, or by interrupting the game. While we’re thinking about which way to go, Shivraj advised us to choose the tunnel road. But we being over smart of our intelligence, and not quite liking the tunnel road, went along with the danger of going from between them. 

There was indeed a risk of getting hit by the ball, which in fact was a rubber ball. But without considering these things we went forward towards the gate. But before reaching the place, where they were playing, we had to climb a few steps. While we’re about to climb the steps, I and my sister together stepped on a sewage hole, which was temporarily covered by a stone slab. But the stone turned out to be small for the size of the hole. 

And that one step of ours took us down, and we plummeted into the hole. While we did the mistake of choosing that road, we were smart enough to hold onto the ground and hang in that hole. It was difficult to be hanging in the air with a bag full of books. Then we somehow used our arm strength and came up breathing heavily, because we were petrified. 

It has been a long time, but what stayed with me was that while we were hanging there, unaware of what to do, Shivraj stood there laughing at us. After we were up, he said,” I told you not to go from here, see what you got yourself into.” This is one of those memories that still bring a sense of fear, even by thinking of it. Like what could have happened if we couldn’t have come up. Where would have we reached, in sewage drains or in the dirt, with no mode of communication whatsoever? And I swear, I never wore those clothes again, because you may have many experiences, but memories, they stay forever!

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