Curiosity kills the cat! Well, even though this is not something I would want to admit, curiosity did hit me hard quite a few number of times.
It happened like this..
The last period bell rang. The monotonous classroom soon transformed into a fish-market. Everyone was relieved as the S.U.P.W class ended. It was the class everyone enjoyed the least . The teacher would always be picking up on someone or the other.
“Friday”, I thought to myself. Not at all excited for the weekend unlike the others, I went into the school ground towards the main gate. My father used to come everyday to pick me up after school. I was walking and wondering as to what I would do during the weekend. I knew I had very few options. Obviously, dad would make me sit with my Maths and drawing book and tell me to finish some extra lessons. I never understood why he always wanted me to do the lessons ahead of being taught in school. He used to tell me that it would make my mind sharper. I had no other option but to act as if I was convinced by his argument. But then “Shaktimaan” would be there at 12 pm on Sunday, I thought to myself. And also the 4 pm Sunday movie on DD National.
As I passed the school canteen to my left, something on the right side of the school ground caught my attention. A few of my seniors were playing basketball in the court. I glanced towards the gate once to see if my father was there. I could not see anyone wearing a brown jacket with that stern look. I shifted my eyes to the basketball court. I kept gazing at the court for about 2 minutes.
You must be thinking that I was enjoying the game. But I had the least idea about what the game was or how it was played. I just knew that the game with a big orange ball was called Basketball. I was indeed interested in something else. My curious mind was at its zenith. I started wondering if I could cross the court once without colliding with anyone. Could I be more stupid? It was just like throwing yourself to the hungry lion’s den.
I knew well at the back of my mind that I was inviting trouble. But I wanted to do that anyway. So I started off. I chose to cross across the middle of the court. I could see well that the boys were running from one end to the other of the court. But somehow I felt that I would manage to cross the court without getting hurt.
After a minute or so, a girl was heard crying loudly. As you would have guessed, I fell down. I was concentrating on crossing the ground when I heard running footsteps. Then a loud thump on my forehead. Yes, the ball hit me. Then I collided with one of the guys there. Why wouldn’t I anyway? My chin started bleeding. I could hear voices around me. Then I heard that voice, that stern voice. Yes, dad was here too. This scared me even more. I knew I would get another earful after reaching home.
My dad picked me up. Then the boys who were playing asked me what in the world was I trying to do in the middle of the court. But I bothered the least to answer them. I went out of the school gate holding my father’s hand. My father didn’t say a word until we reached the hospital. The doctor told me that 2 stitches were required. I looked at my dad with my eyes filled with tears. He however, had no plans of consoling me. He told me “Jaise karni, waise bharni”.
So, I had to undergo the pain of the two stitches on my chin. This was not it. On reaching home, I got a earful of scolding from all of my family members. All of them had a common question.
What were you trying to do in the middle of a court where people were playing with a ball?
I still don’t have an answer.
No one knew that from time to time I dared myself to do such weird things.