The t-shirt lay on his bed, neatly folded.
Chinmay ran to the drawing room, picked up the phone and dialled his mother's number.
"Mumma, where are you.... But when will you come back.... Mumma, I have to go to the gymnastics class... I am not going now.... You know I can't wear a t-shirt myself Mumma...", a drop of tear slowly reached his lower lip.
"I am not going to the.... But Mumma, you know I am scared to wear a t-shirt. How am I going to do it without your help... Mumma, please Mumma.... my hands will get stuck inside the t-shirt... I can't do it Mumma...", a second droplet pushed the first down his chin.
"They don't allow us in a shirt... We have to wear a t-shirt only.... Mumma, why did you have to go!!" Chinmay turned red, "7 o clock?! My class is at 5! Aaji* is not well, I can't ask her to help me wear my tshirt..."
"I am not going to talk to you..", Chinmay banged the phone down and returned to his room.
He sat on his bed and wiped the tears with the lower portion of his tiny palm. He looked at the t-shirt with the name of his gymnastics academy written on it.
"Last time I tried to wear a t-shirt, it was tight and my hands got stuck inside. I felt so scared... I always ask Mumma to help me wear a t-shirt. Why did she have to go out today! I want to go to the gymnastics class....", he thought to himself.
He picked up the t-shirt by the stitch where the sleeves were connected to the body of the t-shirt.
"No, I can't miss the class today", his chubby cheeks turned red like an apple.
He closed his eyes and pulled the t-shirt over his head. He stretched out his arms. His hands frantically looked for the opening of the sleeves. He put his hands through the sleeves the moment his hands located them.
It was in three seconds that he was standing in front of the mirror with his cheeks red and his lips broken into a smile.
He had changed into a t-shirt all by himself....
He realized that what he feared was too small to be feared. This was a lesson that Chinmay learnt for life.
Aaji* - The Marathi word for a grandmother
Chinmay ran to the drawing room, picked up the phone and dialled his mother's number.
"Mumma, where are you.... But when will you come back.... Mumma, I have to go to the gymnastics class... I am not going now.... You know I can't wear a t-shirt myself Mumma...", a drop of tear slowly reached his lower lip.
"I am not going to the.... But Mumma, you know I am scared to wear a t-shirt. How am I going to do it without your help... Mumma, please Mumma.... my hands will get stuck inside the t-shirt... I can't do it Mumma...", a second droplet pushed the first down his chin.
"They don't allow us in a shirt... We have to wear a t-shirt only.... Mumma, why did you have to go!!" Chinmay turned red, "7 o clock?! My class is at 5! Aaji* is not well, I can't ask her to help me wear my tshirt..."
"I am not going to talk to you..", Chinmay banged the phone down and returned to his room.
He sat on his bed and wiped the tears with the lower portion of his tiny palm. He looked at the t-shirt with the name of his gymnastics academy written on it.
"Last time I tried to wear a t-shirt, it was tight and my hands got stuck inside. I felt so scared... I always ask Mumma to help me wear a t-shirt. Why did she have to go out today! I want to go to the gymnastics class....", he thought to himself.
He picked up the t-shirt by the stitch where the sleeves were connected to the body of the t-shirt.
"No, I can't miss the class today", his chubby cheeks turned red like an apple.
He closed his eyes and pulled the t-shirt over his head. He stretched out his arms. His hands frantically looked for the opening of the sleeves. He put his hands through the sleeves the moment his hands located them.
It was in three seconds that he was standing in front of the mirror with his cheeks red and his lips broken into a smile.
He had changed into a t-shirt all by himself....
He realized that what he feared was too small to be feared. This was a lesson that Chinmay learnt for life.
Aaji* - The Marathi word for a grandmother
awesome.....as i read through the post i could feel the fear rising in chinmay and as he accomplished wearing tshirt i heaved a sigh of relief.....very well written
ReplyDeletegood one... nice presentation!
ReplyDeletevery well written...I agree with keepsaker... Even I was able to picture a Chinmay trying to wear T-Shirt... BUT what I imagined was something different...I imagined the boy to be disabled... and had thought that as the reason for not able to wear a T shirt...
ReplyDeleteIs mumma ke bachhe ki kahani padhte hue.. Sarabhai ke Rosesh ki yaad aa gai!! :P
ReplyDeleteThanks Somil, Keepsaker, Adil and Harsha..
ReplyDelete@Harsha: Too much of sadistic thinking is not good for health :-)
Sometimes small things in life can teach you a big deal...... Nice Aditya as always
ReplyDeleteInspiring lesson through a simplest eg.
ReplyDeleteso sweet!!!
ReplyDeleteNice article indeed!!!!!
there's always a lesson to learn from our fears...
ReplyDelete