My Failed Fenugreek Plant!
It was a very special morning. But it wasn't special enough to diligently get up at the stroke of six. So I took time. Fully aware its six , sunlight will start poking in less than 5 minutes through the theatre screen like window. So to make it disappear, I pulled the already entangled blanket over my head(viola..). But then father showed up, and as always turned off the fan, then widening the already pulled over curtains as far as possible. What's this obsession over turning off the fan? Clearly its the best, easiest and importantly most non violent way to make aware about how morning it is. Now the effort to sleep is not worth, so I get up. Today is the submission day for the EVS activity for the term. For a 4th class student its quite exciting to see something you create from nothing for the first time. My fenugreek plant. I run to the flower bed, where I see it. Its good, as healthy as it could ever be. I see dews on some and some even dangling down the pot, like they gave up. Adding some water to it, lifting gently with both hands and thinking not to screw it up now, I take it out and go keep it on the shoe rack. Its 6:30am by now, the radio begins directing AIR Delhi's Sanskrit news. It just feels magical, you understand shit, but still search for occasional similar overheard words and try to figure out meaning from it and tone as any foreign language, though this isn't, and it's sad it feels so. Moms juggling between preparing both breakfast and lunch together, since the till last year we were allowed to go home for
Robert Uncle is on the main gate today, the naivest among all others. I enter the class with a wide smile, wiping sweat off my sleeves( my most unadvised habit , but I couldn't care more) gently placing the plant bag in front of the class below the white board and then go outside to hang the tiffin bags which I forgot at first.
The next time while I'm entering the class, I'm utterly shocked from tip of my sweaty little toe to the longest hair in on my scalp.
My plant just doesn't look like everyone others on the floor. I wonder through each one's plant to find as little affinity I could find between theirs and mine. I panicked, No! there has to be some. I couldn't find. They all were hundred times denser, thicker and tall. Hearts almost going to burst saving me from the shock, I am hoarfrost.. can't breathe, can't move.. Just then to make me realize it harder I hear, "Hey Sumit, what's that? Shit bundled together.." and loud incessant laugh follows which causes more attention. I just lift my plant and force it in the bag in which I brought it, this time without caring which side's where.
I get up, twirl around, and almost throw my school bag at my seat and run outside the class as quick as far as possible. I make sincere brave effort not to tear up and hold myself until I reach away from what, a crime scene.. But water starts pouring like a leaking dam, I cover my eyes again with my sleeve and try not to sob at least, but fail at it too. Could care less what the corridor saw, heard, noticed, felt, and did. Shreya earnestly asked, "Sumit! What happened? Why are you..." I couldn't listen to her forget answering.. I wanted to get out!!
Near the tree behind the toilet I finally found comfort. It was almost time for the final bell and everyone hurried their way to their class not to get a late remark. I couldn't think anything else. What was it that I called it a fenugreek plant, clearly it wasn't one. I should've looked it up on the internet how the real one looked like, just blindly relied on my grandma, hoping she's been in the farm since her childhood would definitely knew what real fenugreek plant was. Now gates were open, I was sobbing cats and dog, had no control over myself. How could this happen? I would lose all my marks with this shitty thing I've grown. The thing which I looked forward this morning became absolute crap .
" Its OKAY Sumit, you have at least a plant to show , its good and healthy, Miss will accept it. Don't cry... Let it go.." a soft, caring voice caused me to turn back. It were Pratham and Suraj checking on me.
Suraj:" Let it go, you will get marks , it doesn't matter.." he really didn't mean it, but could not just stay there while your friend is crying.
Me: " But..(sob).. you know...(sob) Miss specifically told us to bring FENUGREEK plant ..(sob). She will not..(sob continues)" I desperately try to control myself and hold it..
Bell rings....
Pratham: " Its okay, you at least brought something, that Aman just came to know about today's submission, he's already given his diary to Amit to keep in his bag to refrain from getting a remark.. Lets go.."
We all get into the line, I see some sympathetic faces staring at me as I go through the aisle..
In to the class, I pickup my plant and go to my place, and have a better look.. Its just pressed but hasn't uprooted. I remember Aman. There's always someone worst than us as like better than us. Finally English period is over and Marie Miss in on time.. Entering in, she just takes a look all over the class, with a huff. I take a long breath.
"You can continue doing your work.. I just don't want any noise.. Is it clear?"
"Yes Miss"
"Roll No. 1, come with your plant."
I glance through the class, some are happy that they can complete their work, some changing places stealthily. I'm finding another myself or even better any other Aman. But no, there isn't one.
"Roll No 15.. Come fast.." That's me, that's me.. I carry the whole bag, without taking out the plant. I cannot find myself getting mocked once again, especially from the front benchers.
At the table I take out it out and place right at the corner, I move more close to the table, as much possible, to mask it up from maximum people I can.
Marie Miss is startled. Looks right at me.. Making her eyes more big than they already are, though I find no anger on her face.. I see first sign
" What is this Sumit? This isn't fenugreek plant.. " I hold my plant trying to cover it more.
"Yes Miss.. I thought.." I couldn't think of anything..
Shreya was on the bench right next to it completing her work. Looking towards me she perceived relived. Like she found her answer.
After quite a long stare at it, she asked," Do know what this is?" , opening the blank page which she was covering the marks register with..
I looked up, until morning I thought this was Mustard plant, my Black Mustard plant not anymore..
"You don't know it?" she inferred.
"When did you planted it?"
"Miss.. When you told.. same day in the evening."
"Did you watered it regularly? Took care of it?"
"Yes Mam" I affirmed. For the first time I smiled, maybe in my mind, but I smiled.
"OK GO.."
Just like that, no scolding, no why-don't-you-hear-it-properly remarks, most importantly no yelling?.. it doesn't require any reason.. But no, that was it
I lifted my plant as gently as possible and kept it on the floor with other plants. I took the plastic bag, folded it to the last fold and walked to my seat. Victorious!
I put it into my school bag and glanced through the class again.. Pratham was nodding meaning I-told-you-so nod. Now I felt pitied for Aman, but he already was ready for the situation, so it didn't last.
In the evening when I went home, I told the story. I wasn't angry but a bit disappointed envisaging what the situation could have been had Miss Marie decided to be herself. Grandma naively clarified, I mixed a bit of coriander seeds with the fenugreek one's, hoping to get some coriander at least, off your activity. But coriander grew faster and so no fenugreek bloomed.
We all laughed.
(It was a very frivolous incident if you consider from a third man's perspective. But when you are so young, and find yourself in such a moment, its everything to you.)