Mumbai offers solace to so many. Ibha feels the same looking at the street art on the bridge that she walks across everyday. Running home as the school bell rang after the last period, Ibha finds herself panting, stepping inside what she considers ‘home’. That street art is a reminder for her - a reminder of what she wishes for, of what she wants to experience. You may think that what could a child possibly desire looking at a wall and its street art? The one on the bridge has the ‘Sea Link’ painted. It makes her want to see it some day…not the ordinary way. She wants to travel in a plane and get a view of it.
[Photo Courtesy: Getty Images, iStock]
However today, all she is thinking about is that moment in class when she stood there proudly upon being called a ‘winner’. IT IS THE FEELING THAT MATTERS, that holds the power to make her forget the circumstances she has to deal with and be upset about. In fact, it is that exact feeling that makes her believe in her own ability of creating something beautiful. Her mind goes back to how the day began –
“Mummy, 20 rupaye do na…” and upon getting those, she left quickly to reach school on time for the morning prayer. This was a routine, given the fact that she would use this money to buy something from a vendor or a small shop adjacent to the school in the recess like most of her friends who ate at the school’s mess but needed something sweet or chatpata to munch on while they played. The school being a government public school offered free uniforms, stationery, one meal a day and so on.
As the day progressed, she felt a strong pull of gravity that made her head move closer to the bench. ‘That’s just a science practical’ she thought to herself when her teacher accused her of falling asleep amidst a class. A few moments later, as the teacher was about to collect the homework (which Ibha had obviously ‘forgotten’ at home), ‘Ms. Nalini’, another teacher came in to announce something–
“Students, please keep quiet. Kavya beta congrats, you won second place for the greeting card making competition. Everyone clap for Kavya.”
“Yes, class. Okay, silence. Aryan and friends, silence.”
“ Ibha? Yes, Ibha congrats you won first place for the Rakhi making competition.”
“Very good beta. Meet me during the break.”
Ibha’s face told different stories…ones which she did not know how to feel about. Her eyes could feel the shades of the sky (her emotions changing every single minute) as if she wanted to react, which she did in a very awkward manner. Her friends cheered for her but her thoughts ran not like the wind, maybe like a breeze…This was NOT ‘the ideal situation’ according to her. This was not the first time she participated in a rakhi making competition. But this year she won, she won but did she feel that she won?
Till today, it was about persuading her mother to give her some extra money to buy the material she needed to make a rakhi for participating in a competition because that was a valid reason and then the plan was to make a simple rakhi, the one that would not be nominated. The next step was simple - coming home, making a sad face for not winning and being happy about something she was allowed to do later. That is to tie that rakhi on her sister’s wrist. Usually on the occasion of raksha bandhan a sister ties a rakhi on her brother’s wrist but these siblings had a bond just like any other. So why not a rakhi for a sister who can be a protector?
[Image Courtesy: Times of India Article updated 1st Aug, 2012]
*
Stepping out of the class, Ibha went to meet Ms. Nalini in the staffroom. Hands folded behind her back, she sought permission to enter. Upon entering, some other teachers congratulated her for making the school proud. It was a big deal to win in contests, especially interschool. As the conversation flowed, she frankly mentioned how upset she was about the rakhi contest. The winners never got their rakhis back once they submitted. The rest were sent back again. This was a ritual followed by all government schools but our Ibha had no idea where the rakhis went. So her Ms. Nalini explained -
“Ibha, beta these rakhis are sent to different places like old age homes, orphanages or the military. They are the best ones so we collect them and send them every year. Do you know how much joy they bring to the people who receive them? ”
“Really miss? But then what about Nirjara? How will I tie my rakhi this year?”
“Ibha, you can make more rakhis like this. In fact you can sell them too and earn some profit.”
“But mummy…”
“I will talk to her. For now, I have some extra rakhi material with me. You can make 7-8 rakhis from that.”
*
A week later -
IT IS INDEED THE BEST FEELING EVER AS IBHA HUGS HER SISTER WHILE WATCHING THE ARMY ON A NEWS CHANNEL CELEBRATING RAKSHABANDHAN.
With the profit she made by selling as many rakhis as possible, Ibha bought a packet of bindis for mother and a cute diary for Nirjara who loved writing. Now, her brain is racing with ideas for making different rakhis for the next year’s contest and of course, for her new business venture… She feels the bond, the strength of a string, a string of connection, affection, and protection.
- Chinmayee Mondkar,
Head, Editorial Committee 2024-25
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