Of all the 14 children waiting at the impromptu dairy bus stop only two pair of children required any attention of a passerby that morning. The first pair was busy fighting a game of high profile martial arts and should it cause any confusion let me clear that both of them were fighting the game individually i.e. without involving the other one. It was clear that there was a breakdown in the communication channels. As their individual games progressed they had various obstacles to overcome for e.g. the contents of their bags spilling out and about without prior notice, tripping over fellow passengers but the biggest challenge seemed to come from the failure to improvise a move that may earn the respect of the other fighter and initiate a conversation, for even in the absence of ego, the pride was intact.
The other pair was interesting in a milder manner. They were a brother-sister combo aged 6 and 4 respectively. Brother had recently moved into the high flying building of classes 1-10 after having spent two years in the small kindergarten building. The kid sister had always had a sense of awe about him but now he was playing at a different level altogether. But this new elevation of status did not come without its problems for him. The new building in-charge was fond of randomly checking on dress, hair, socks, shoes etc. of the students. This was all fine with him but where he drew the line was the nails inspection. He just did not want to cut it as and when they all desired. He had always accorded them due respect. But ever since last week, when the P.T.I. had called him to the front of the class labeling him as “not a role model” and pinning a note onto his tie, “I will check my nails daily and make sure they are OK”, his reputation had taken a hit and also his chances of going closer to her, the only one who mattered in the class.
Last night had rained heavily and there was a slight nip in the air, so when the bus arrived he quickly packed his little sister in and gave a last look to his nails. They were to be cut this evening he had decided otherwise the dream of the dream girl had to be let go. Nothing exceptional happened till the recess and he was busy writing an apology note to his nails when he heard a ruckus. He moved towards it with an inquiry in his eyes. A lunchbox was not yielding and “a student would go hungry” was the conversation platter. Dream girl’s lunch box was shut tight and no one could open it. Teacher had gone to ask for help. He asked for the lunchbox, used his nails as lever and pulled open the case.
That evening she wrote thank you on a note and pinned it to his tie.