Fragile Communities

When did we become those people
Who take offence so easily
Whose identity, community, faith
Is so fragile
That
A word
A question
A thought
Can shatter it into pieces?

LoveJihad

Two of them looked at the photograph.

One saw only love,
The other saw only religion.

You're Beautiful

Sometimes I wonder
If I were to have a daughter
Would I be about to look her in the eye
And say
You're beautiful
As you are
Every bit of you
Your height
Your weight
Your skin
Your hair
No matter what
You're beautiful

Would I really be able to tell her that
When I can't even convince myself of it?

The Chart on the Wall

Sonu sat tapping her foot in the bus, waiting anxiously to reach school. It seemed like on the only day that she wanted to get to school quickly, the school bus was getting stuck in all the red signals and traffic jams.

Normally, Sonu wouldn’t have cared. A longer bus ride meant more time to sleep or to talk to friends. But today wasn’t a regular day.

 

Today was the day their teacher would put up the class chart.

 

Thinking about that chart, Sonu squirmed in her seat. She had first seen that chart many months ago in this new school. It had a list of all the student names, but ordered based on how they had done in the term exams. This was the first time Sonu had seen something like this; her previous school had never put up a chart like this. Curious, Sonu had glanced at the chart, and was surprised to see her name in the third place from the top.

 

A swooping feeling had passed through her, the kind that used to pass when she got full marks in a test, or her parents smiled at her report cards.

 

The other students had looked at her curiously – the new girl – who had already managed to reach the top 3 in the class. Embarrassed by the attention, Sonu had tried to shrug it off, but couldn’t ignore that feeling of excitement in her stomach.

 

And though she had never said it out loud, she had made a silent promise to herself that day: she would get her name to the number one spot.

 

That was two terms ago. Now, the final exams for the last term were over, and Sonu felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she had made it to the first place. She tried not to think too much about it, wanting to avoid that feeling of disappointment she had felt in the second term. But still, she couldn’t ignore the jittery excitement rushing through her.

 

Finally, the bus pulled into the school campus. Sonu, who had specifically chosen the seat closest to the door, rushed out. She half walked, half ran towards her second standard classroom, trying not to look too eager, which was no small feat.

 

As she reached the door of the classroom, she saw her class teacher, Mrs. Chandra, putting up a chart on the wall. There it was! The chart that she had been longing to see! Sonu could make out a list of names on the chart, but was too far to read them.

 

Stepping away from the chart, Mrs. Chandra turned around and saw Sonu. Smiling widely, she said, “Good work this semester, Sonal.” A rush of excitement surged through Sonu – did that mean she had managed to come first? But Mrs. Chandra had always been nice to her, so maybe she would say this even if she hadn’t come first.

 

Slowly, bit by bit, Sonu stepped towards the chart. A few other students were starting to trickle into the classroom, but Sonu was too focused on her target to notice them. Finally, when she was close enough to read the names, she looked up at the top of the chart.

 

There it was. ‘Sonal Mehta’, the first name on the list. A mix of happiness and relief coursed through her. She read her name again and again. It really was there. On the number one spot.

 

The first rank.

 

Sonu had no idea how long she stood there, a big smile on her face, just staring at her name on the chart. It was only when a few other students came to check the list that she realized she wasn’t alone. She tried to suppress the smile on her face, at least to bring it down to the level of acceptable humility.

 

The classroom was almost full now, with students shuffling around between their seats and the new item on the wall. A few of them looked at her and murmured congratulations, to which Sonu whispered a quick ‘Thank you’, not trusting herself to say anything else. Inside, she was jumping up and down with an endless surge of energy, but outwardly, she tried to look calm and composed. She wanted to look like a first ranker.

 

As she moved to go towards her seat, she heard another ‘Congratulations’. Smiling, she turned to see her classmate, Rohan, standing behind her. Sonu began to say her customary ‘Thank you’, but stopped short as she looked at him. Rohan’s hands were stuffed in his pockets, and though he was trying to smile at her, his eyes didn’t quite show that happiness. In fact, they looked really sad and pained.

 

She looked at him up and down, trying to see if he had gotten hurt. But he looked fine. Rohan and Sonu had never really spoken much, but he usually seemed like a nice guy. Seeing that look in his eyes seemed to deflate some of the elation she had been feeling.

 

“Are you okay?” Sonu asked hesitantly, not sure what was the right thing to say. Rohan just shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and turned to look at the chart on the wall for a few seconds. Then, as though it took too much effort, he quickly turned back to Sonu. Still smiling sadly, he shrugged, and then slowly walked past her towards his seat at the back of the room.

 

Sonu stood there, unsure of how to make sense of what had just happened. The bell was about to ring, and she knew she needed to get back to her own seat. But she couldn’t move from there. There was something about the pained look in Rohan’s eyes that was taking away her excitement, and filling it with some strange emotion.

 

If she were to be completely honest, a part of her had an idea what might have caused this sadness, but that was a very tiny part. The bigger part of her remained confused, not wanting to admit that the source of her happiness and Rohan’s sadness could be one and the same.

 

Finally, after what felt like several minutes, she turned back to the chart on the wall. Starting from the top, she began to scan the list for Rohan’s name. This time, she rushed past her own name, not bothering to soak it in like before. As she went lower and lower down the list, a heaviness began to sink into her stomach, which she couldn’t quite understand. With every name she read, a little part of her hoped that Rohan’s would be the next. But it didn’t come, not until she reached the end.

 

There it was, the last name on the list. Sonu felt a lump rise in her throat, as a series of realizations began to course through her.

 

Rohan’s name was at the bottom of the list.

Rohan had the lowest rank in class.

This chart was showing his failure to every single student in class.

 

And just like that, the chart that Sonu had waited eagerly to see for the entire week seemed to take on a different form. It was the one object that had given her the most joy she had felt in the entire year; but now, it had become the object that had caused so much sadness in Rohan.

 

Bit by bit, Sonu now began to read the other names on the list, moving upwards from Rohan. With each name, she paused to quietly look at the student in the class. There was Shoaib, sitting listlessly on his seat. On one end sat Abha, her head buried in her arms. There was Kushal, trying to laugh with his friends, but the laugh never really reaching his eyes. And so many, many more.

 

As Sonu turned back to the chart, she felt a rush of mixed emotions towards it. Part of her, the part that had rushed to the classroom to look at the chart, wanted to frame it and make sure it stood here forever and ever. But another part, the part that had looked at Rohan’s eyes, wanted to tear it up and throw it in the dustbin. How was it possible, that this same object could give so much happiness to someone, and so much sadness to another?

 

Mixed with these feelings was a new, strange feeling emerging in her. Guilt. Sonu thought of every time she had felt a rush of excitement and pride at the idea of being the best in her class, and realized that she had never bothered to think about those that were being called the worst in class. She thought of all those moments that she had imagined rushing home and telling her parents that she had come first, never stopping to think what that conversation must have been like for Rohan and the others.

 

It’s not that they were terrible in their studies; sometimes they did okay in the tests. But compared to everyone else, they never managed to go higher up the rank chart. Staring at the chart, a realization struck her. No matter how everyone did, someone had to come first, and someone had to come last. That’s just the way this chart worked. In a way, the chart ensured that Sonu’s happiness depended on Rohan’s sadness. With each passing second, the feeling of discomfort continued to increase.

 

Lost in her thoughts, Sonu didn’t hear the bell ring. Mrs. Chandra was calling all the students to take their seats. Sonu walked in a daze, keeping her eyes down, not trusting herself to look at anyone (especially not Rohan). She took her seat at the first bench, barely listening to anything the teacher was saying.

 

Please don’t mention the chart, she silently willed. But Mrs. Chandra clearly didn’t hear her plea, and began announcing the top names, starting with Sonu. What should have been a moment of absolute pride and joy, now felt torturous. Sonu tried to smile, grating her teeth when she was asked to stand up and the class clapped for her. This was the moment she had been waiting for all year. This is what she had worked towards every evening. But five minutes was all it took to change this moment forever. Five minutes, and a pair of extremely sad eyes.

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sonu considered multiple times talking to Rohan, saying something to make him feel better, but she couldn’t really think of anything to say. Throughout the day, students and teachers continued to congratulate her, and Sonu went through the motions of thanking them, while feeling completely hollow inside.

 

She was relieved when the bell rang to signal the end of the day. She walked quickly towards her bus, ironically with the same speed with which she had gotten off it that morning, but without any of that earlier energy. This time, she barely noticed the traffic as the bus took her home.

 

Getting off the bus, Sonu walked slowly towards her house. A part of her was hesitant about going in, because she knew the question that was awaiting her, the question she no longer felt comfortable answering.

 

Finally, taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Mamma and Papa looked at her, smiles on their faces. “So?” Mamma asked. “What rank did you get?” They knew that Sonu had secretly been hoping to get the first rank.

 

Clenching her fists around the straps of her bag, Sonu took a deep breath, trying to form the response. Finally, forcing a little smile on her face, she said:

 

“No idea. The school has decided to stop giving ranks.”