HIS PUNISHMENT: OUR LESSON

HIS PUNISHMENT: OUR LESSON

Many relationships end today, be it a strong bond between two friends, lovers, siblings and even strangers at times because of harsh words and lack of respect and appreciation. We have all been victims of similar incidents at some point of our lives.

It has been long since human beings have used sweet words genuinely to solve grave problems. The only thing we do is abuse, curse, and blame the opponent. So many harsh words and bitter feelings either on the face or silently tends to kill the divine soul of an individual. No one is born to be so rude and fake instead we tend to develop these unpleasant traits as we grow up. The words ‘grow up’ are scary indeed. I feel ashamed to confess but one of my 9 year old student made me realize this horrifying fact.

Four students barged open the faculty lounge door and ran towards me with a serious piece of information (according to them a scary one) that Yanat was punished by the vernacular subject teacher and sent down to the principal’s cabin. I went up to inquire about the same and found out that as always he was being inattentive and disturbing the entire class. But I never thought Yanat was inattentive as such because he always had an amazing bank of knowledge which he liked to share with the class, unfortunately this was interpreted by some teacher’s as being inattentive and naughty.

Immediately after this incident the bell had gone and it was time for their break. I felt bad for little Yanat, always full of life and made you forget all your worries with his buck tooth notorious smile and far-fetched talks. My lecture was about to begin, just when my class went in an uproar and started shouting out, “Yanat, Yanat, Yanat” with excitement. Yes, that little one had entered class, I was shocked too. Usually when in the principal’s cabin, a child spends a good one hour doing some task allotted to him/her, but Yanat was back in 15 mins. This was the conversation that followed his glamorous celebrity entry:

Me: Yanat did you run out of Ma’am’s cabin in her absence?

Yanat: No, Miss.

Me: Did you lie to her about completing your work?

Yanat: No, miss.

Me: Did you trouble her so much that she had to get rid of you?

Yanat: No Miss.

(The entire class by now was laughing their lungs out.)

Me: Then how is it that you are back so soon?

Yanat: She asked me to go back because I had served my term of punishment.                               

Me: Yanat what happened exactly.

I could never imagine what he was about to say. But yes I knew I am going to learn something new and interesting once again.

Yanat: I was doing my work and just then I noticed the beauty of Ma’am’s cabin such amazing paintings and wind chimes all made by students, I couldn’t help it but praise it out loud, so she smiled at me and we started discussing about her students who gave her all of this. I also told her that I am lucky to have a principal like her, and that how much all of us love her. That’s it. I didn’t have to do anything else, she asked me to be a good boy and sent me up to class with a smile. Yes, on my way back I apologized Ms. Dixit for troubling her and gave her my hand made sorry note. Here, miss, I have one for you too.

(He handed me a sweet little note which said sorry and a cute little face sketched next to it.)

tan

That’s when I realized sweet words have been long forgotten, appreciation is covered with the EGO blanket, and we have nothing to give except criticism. But these children have only love to give, their soul is pure and love laden. We were those little ones too, but now what? Jealousy, hatred, anger, spite and only ill feelings for each other, even if a good deed is committed (by mistake) there is a selfish motive hidden behind. Pure love is lost, the pure soul is destroyed. Loving is not difficult just be kind without any other evil intention in mind and the world will be a better place to live in. Yanat’s punishment taught all of us a lesson, a lesson that we intentionally ignore, a lesson that was once our natural trait.

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