“Opal? What are you writing? “Miss Debolina’s voice jerked her back to the reality, she was no longer free, and instead of flying high with imaginations she again became corporeal, confined within the limits of her fair little disabled body.
She quickly tried to hide the copy, where the sky was depicted and the rules of flying were a hidden secret…but her teacher’s hand took it up like a fish has been dragged up from the pond.
“Poem? Why sure you can, there’s nothing to hide it dear!! Let me read it to all…SILENCE EVERYONE!!! Opal has written a poem; here…
I can feel why my caged mind sighs!
When the wind dances with joy & loops,
When the steps makes its way through the springing grass ,
And the tears comes out like a stream of glass ,
When the words comes out & the first laugh opes…
And the vivid fragrance of its chalice steals ,
No one knows what I feels…
I can feel why my mind wants to break free ,
Till my blood is red on the adverse disabilities ,
For I must run now on the grass , marsh lands…
Where I stumbled, lurched and bough a – swing,
And a pain drips, in the unconscious scars,
Painful pulse, again with a desire to sing…
I know why I beat my wing.
She once glanced at Opal in utter amazement, and went on again…
I can feel why the caged mind sighs, ah me!!!
When my freedom is bruised and life sore…
To beat my wings , to set down free ,
Its not a comeback , joy or glee ,
But a urge that my mind sighs ,
But a plea , that couldn’t be heard by the frozen society ,
&…I can feel , why a mind can’t sing.
Something…A Pain! Almost choked her voice at the verge of the poem , she quickly returned the copy , smiled and went out of the room as the bell rang immediately , to hide few drops which was about to fall on ground.
As the bell rang and the teacher abandoned the class, everyone went uproar with a howl.
Every one went out of the class as fast as they can, Opal slowly turned her wheel chair towards the door and found Ratul , still sitting in a lone corner , sketching something with a rapt attention.
She gave a quick glance at the place Ratul’s eyes was wandering to find out the insignificance of the significance through the wide window. It’s like nature has illustrated a large canvas, where the gray clouds are depicted as some Greek demons, and gathering fast on the far end of the north-west corner. The scorching heat of the mid-noon sun was hidden behind the coarse gray rain clouds.
Opal came out of the room, leaving the little painter behind with his own planet .Cause of the dark gray clouds darkness has occurred the palace and all the lights were ON! Everywhere on the long rounded verandah…
A sudden blow of a fresh wind cast a magical spell in the immortal mind of 150 little wonders
which was directly followed by a hullabaloo. Every little eye was anxiously stuck upon the first shower of the monsoon.
Not everyone indeed! A wheel-chair was hastily making its way through all…two eager eyes was quickly giving careful glances upon all the upward faces with a breath taking energy , as if it will stop immediately on the very moment the face which it is looking of.
“Harun” , searched almost all the possible places and finally gave up with a dimmed eye as if nothing is left for him to gain back the exhausted energy…A sudden touch at the back !!! This was so special to him … caused Harun almost swinging his wheel-chair and face Saurav. Who made a undecipherable sound of eternal happiness,
He took out a violin behind his back and he knew what joy he was expecting in his friend’s eye. Harun’s eye dazzled with a unknown glee.
Suddenly, the break of the monsoon and a fresh air carrying the wet freshness of the marsh lands, brought a floating rhythm… all the eyes, those was stuck on the heavenly beauty of the Greek epic to be a mute spectator of the war between the cloud made lions and the Gladiators became dim by giving the entire priority to their ears. Everyone, from every corners of the big old palace became concerned about the Hamlin’s tune and chased it……………….
this is the only day after the long stressful week. Where 150 little wonders are running, both by legs and by wheel-chairs, leaving their disabilities behind, and carrying a mind which is no longer bounded by physical immortality.
The rhythm was flying around like a Robin bird and twittering in the corners of the big old palace, its echo lasted…where the classes use to held, the benches which was abandoned earlier…the broken bricks where the history of the uprising is hidden, the tune was waving back the 1986 where a journey was carried by a broad shoulders by fighting against all odds.
The significance of an insignificant room which has always illustrated dreams in the deepest core of their hearts. For the 150 little angels, nothing can be more significant than the god like piano / organ , placed amidst the room. This reveals the words which can’t be decipher of all the speechless minds. Where no one will make a laugh out of out of their physical conditions, no pranks and taunts will be showered as a curse. Where they are all free with their new pairs of wings to leave behind the stumbling and lurching life to canter forward with a persistence and determination.
Saurav waved his hand from the car…and Harun smiled…!!! He knew he don’t have a home and loving parents like Saurav . His home is this beautiful palace where his life has found its meanings to live ! As far as his eyes can follow the car before the turning of the road will took it out of his vision. Harun too waved his hands , he knew , another pairs of eyes were almost stuck with the window of the car anxiously trying to find the last views of two moving hands……behind a big guava tree, until he will lost the hand of a boy…assailed by Cerebral Palsy. Despite of their age differences , class five is just a door away of class six.
The continuous rain has depicted its grayish presence on the walls of the guidance school. The 150 wonders dressed neatly in their school uniform has gathered together at the long hall for their daily prayer to start a new day in the rhythmic tune of the heavenly bless.
The all 30 teachers, guiding everyone and trying to keep the peace by maintaining the silence . And then, few voices and most of the friends, which is unable to pronounce the prayer , started with a bee like tune……
Where the mind is without fear &…
The head is held high ,
Where knowledge is free ,
Where the world has not been broken ,
Up into fragments by narrow domestic walls,
Where words comes out from the depth of truth ,
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection ,
Where clear stream of reason has not lost ,
Its way into the dreary desert , a sand of habit,
Where mind is led forward by thee into ever widening thought and action ~
Into that heaven of freedom , my father , let my country awake.
~”where are you going Jinia?” ……..
Opal’s touch made her look behind.
Opal quickly forced his wheels and came similar of hers… and asked again
“where are you going Jinia?”
Jinia understood possibly cause of her asking gestures of hand than the movements of her lips…Her two eyes dazzled up with a unknown fire and her fore-fingers indicated a room exactly opposite of the rounded verandah……
……….and at once Opal understood which is the class and the reason behind the sudden blaze in Jinia’s eyes.
Arijit the mathematics teacher found 150 curious and energetic eyes anxiously waiting for the words coming out of his month. He sighed once, took a deep breath…and began…
“And the great scientist who , as all you know ! Has been suffering from a progressive and incurable moto-neuron disease that now confines him to a wheel-chair has get rid out of his illness up into the anti-gravity circumstances.
Despite of all odds , Stephen Hawking…agreed what another legend Albert Einstein once said … can be applied for you too…” what is essential of a man of my type is what he thinks and how he thinks…not what he does or how he suffers…..”
“It’s just about the best seller of the leading management guru…Professor Arindam Chowdhury’s COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY HATCH….!!!
……….Its about being blind since birth and yet having the conviction that you can make it and becoming a STEVIE WONDER.………..It’s about being deaf and composing some of the world’s greatest and profoundest music ever , like BEETHOVEN did………Its about not only being deaf and blind but also being dumb and becoming a HELEN KELLER….”……Its proved…!!! The world’s history is of some confident people those who passionately believe in two words…..’I CAN’!!!….nothing can take place of persistence and perseverance …. Which alone are omnipotent…”
Miss Dorothy was interpreting the speech of the mathematics teacher to Jinia by her finger language as fast as she can, for she don’t want to give a-miss to any of this valuable words which are known as the key source of inspiration to the life lives of 150 little angels, but her hands freeze with a sudden feeling of a warm drop of water. Jinia’s eye were full of tears…a tear which was mostly carried by a feeling that the teacher successfully inject in many minds through the brilliant speech…a urge to succeed was hidden in the joyful tear , gently Miss Dorothy took her hanky out and rubbed her tears with a softest touch and smiled…
Light ! Give me Light! …… was the wordless cry of her little mind and the Light shone on her in that very moment.
Gradually, they finished the motivation class with a heart full of joyous feelings. As they will recall each and every word they will be filled with a wonder of the richness and variety of the experiences that clutter about it.
The morning sun penetrated the mass of garden’s Nine-O-Clocks that covered the porch. The opening of the garden is full of Mangoes and Shimuls , completely covered by the beds of lime stone , here were the great Pupils…with trunks like mossy pillars , from the branch of which hangs great roots to swing the little angels.
And the Palash, the odor of which pervaded every nook and corner of the wood….an elusive, almost supernatural fragment….something that made the palace directly one of the fairy land.
At the principal’s room , the door was closed…all teachers were assembled for the weekly discussion sitting in front of a big , black , polished earlier of nineteenth centuries wooden table. One after another, the conversations was for all the little children’s with eternal abilities to prove their worth in front of the society an the urge to make the guidance center the best home for them…….
~”But the 3% reservation for them isn’t adequate enough and not well maintained, our children often faces taunts , laughs and criticisms only for their physical disabilities “
Miss Nilima , the moral science teacher rose up and gave a firm look on everyone…
~”Yes ! The 3% reservation is just similar to another bookish term, this is becoming more and more intelligible for our society, and this guidance center has started long ago on a spring of 1986 only with a handful of students and an inadequate system. But the water has flown a lot under the bridge…since we are moving towards the future which is much brighter…
Adversities are the odds, but that’s the way to canter. As far as the society views our children, they are the wastage and a subject of pity for them.
In spite of all this hurdles each and every individual students of our guidance school has done extremely well, not only in board examinations but also in Dance, Sports, Drawing, Drama, Crafts even in playing musical instruments, we all are facing the heat by standing against the cruel society, the confidence is what………………
Ratul put down his unfinished sketch on the grass beside the porch. He was quickly crossing the long porch…quickly heading towards the main gate of the school which was abandoned by the gate-keep r and was slightly opened…where…as he can see from here a little red colored football was standing still and a little boy, possibly of 3 years of his young life, who can’t even find where the ball is , was searching his ball all around……..
Ratul quickly gave a concerned look on the surroundings he was in…and became confident about his loneliness.
~”Hey PUNK! Whatcha doing?”…….A man with an ugly looking dirty, unshaved face wearing a lungi and a vest…….freeze Ratul on his wheel-chair, holding the ball in hand!
~”Little SWINE! That’s not your ball…! Its mine….gimme that!!!
The man almost snatched the ball from his hand and once Ratul forgot his physical disabilities…two lines came to his mind…the prayer…
The man almost snatched the ball from his hand and once Ratul forgot his physical disabilities…two lines came to his mind…the prayer…
Where the mind is without fear…&
The head is held high…
He grabbed the ball tightly…and tried making alert by something on a voice which ceased to speak long ago…
~”Why!! You!! Handicapped Pig!!”…..the man gave a sudden kick to Ratul’s wheel-chair…and at once Ratul lost the proper views of the earth and saw the palace turned upside down and felt a tremendous pain in head…the earth became darker…and yet more………darker .
The man snatched the ball and quickly hide own self behind the long apartments to hide him.
Aloke!! The little one , was about to cross the main gate in search of his ball but suddenly…a heavy something became an obstacle and blocked his leg to move further and crashed him down…..!!!……It was the wheel-chair! Touching it, his little conscience felt, there might be someone beside it too…..He made nothing out of the situation but quickly sat beside Ratul on the pavement…holding his hand into his…!!!
~”Murari???…Murari???…A middle aged man came running, throwing the end of the biri, away! The Principal burst out in anger…… ~”Your irresponsibility will cause as accident???!!! You want that??? You are the gate keeper here! Where the hell you’ve been leaving the gate ??? …
Her eyes once went on the gate which is far away and with a nerve freezing shock, her eyes caught the right thing……………A part of wheel-chair…she couldn’t complete her words…a panic almost destroyed her nervous system…viewing which she cried out loudly in terror….
~”OH MY GOD !!!”……..and started running towards the main gate. Murari was unable to understand the situation and the cause behind this sudden behavior, but he too followed her steps.
~” ALOKE???” ….she cried out…..the little kid was unable to hear her voice and as she went in front, her eyes found Ratul…!!!
She gave another expression of utmost nerve freezing terror and cried out….” MURARI. Call the DOCTOR!!! NOW!!!……..
Murari saw the entire matter from behind and without stopping turned back towards the school.
She alone lifts up Ratul’s unconscious body on his wheel-chair and grasped Aloke in one hand. Ratul’s head was hanging senseless on his chest! Her quick…yet careful eyes found no sign of wounds…
She pushed back the iron-gate back on its place, closed and found the doctor…along with other teachers are rushing in…
The time was lost to everyone , but suddenly the hospital clock rang…swinging its pendulum. And the doctor came out of the I.C.U with the scan reports in hand. Everyone else surrounded the man and the Principal asked anxiously… ~”How is the boy Doctor? How is Ratul??? “…
The Doctors face fell to make the firm and abrupt announcement which was nothing but an inevitable truth. The affection, love and anxiousness that he is now viewing in everyone’s face…But!!! He hardened his mind to say the final word…
~” Sorry! But we couldn’t do anything now! The child is out of our hand, his brain has been badly injured by that fall and a internal bleeding is going on continuously which couldn’t be stopped. He has gone to Coma stage…”
They couldn’t believe their own ears…The Principal turned to everyone else and said…
~”We are going to shift him to a bigger hospital…NOW!!!
The Doctor knew what caused this word to came out …he bend his head…
~”If you want, you can! He stated firmly….”But this condition is pathetic, he will die in the middle of the journey….there is nothing to do anymore, we have tried almost everything exists in our medical books and knowledge…this is his last night….or probably the last few hours…of him!!!
She slowly moved towards the opened space of the long hospital corridor, she wasn’t able to see anything, the rain! was still on its best and the city from here…looked like a hazy glass…added to which , no one knew , few more pains were dripping down with the rain ! Something choked her voice and prevented from breaking down…She turned and said in a commanding voice which left others stand still…
~” Dorothy, Aindrilla , Nilima , Arijit , Sampurna ….??? She pronounced all the names of the teachers to see everyone is present or not…her command went higher…
~”Ratul’s body is going to his own home. This child guidance center… I give a heck about the powerful 97% with full perfection…
……….let the remaining wastage 3% stupid! Disabled minority pay their last tribute to the would-have-been Picasso!!! “………..the fake toughness which she was carrying hardly only to mutter out these words swept away, hearing the last announcements from his voice. She finally with no restriction broke down…in tears!!!
The body entered the school premises! The old big palace where dreams are unchained…Harun stood still!!! But a poem gifted to him by Opal was constantly striking to his mind and he whispered it….alone!!!
Because you can’t walk properly , taunts & pranks held the civil mass ,
The morning held the darkness grown,
To throw me down with immortality
Because You can’t view & hear , stumbling darkness , lurking steps ,
The songs & birds has ceased to bless,
To throw me down with immortality
Because you can’ talk properly , the dreams has ceased to come ,
To choke my voice which knows to laugh ,
To throw me down with immortality
Because I can think & think ,light still emerges from the darkness grown ,
The bells are ringing , to paint the dawn ,
The earth too struggles like its disabled child
To put me out of the immortalities.
Beside the big piano/organ! His little body was laid upon a stature covered with a white piece of death; little wonders were gathered to miss a bright star among them! Opal once looked outside the window, it was coarse gray…outside…the balmy shower of rain caused everything hazy…And at last it was her turn, everyone kissed Ratul!!! She kissed him too and took out a rolled paper to greet the class mate on his long journey towards eternity. It was a little poem from the 3% minorities for another 3%…who has forgot to ask his rights…!!! She controlled her and started reading…….
The Bells were ringing amidst the clouds, the streets were dazzling with less of crowds,
Marsh lands full of grasses grown,
and you were born when it was raining down.
The morning lurked with darkness grown ,the streets were dazzling the lights were ON,
It was monsoon on the July’s thorn ,
It was then that you were born…
None to hear , none to find , the rains are dripping down the wind ,
Can’t you hear a lonely sigh ?
It’s the time that you have DIE..!!!
Desires of a moth to blaze its wings, through the death it dance and sings,
Loves of all with pity and care,
here you lie with your WHEEL-CHAIR.
