Finally, a writer!
“Roll No. 2” the English teacher Mrs Nair announced.
“Yes ma’am” little Kunal came forward.
“Your turn to speak now. Please come,” Ms Nair told him.
* * *
“Good morning respected teachers and dear friends. Today I am going to speak on the topic, ‘My Ambition in Life’.
I want to be a writer when I grow up. I know this is not the fancy answer that teachers expect students to give. My teachers always stress that we all must become doctors and engineers and lawyers.
I think differently, because my father taught me differently. My father says that doctors, engineers and lawyers have a lot of responsible work to do. They work hard and get tired and need to relax a bit too.
My father tells me the world needs more writers so that we can keep the doctors and engineers and lawyers thinking, and entertain them and give them a reason to smile after a hard day at work.
My father used to write too. He was not a very successful writer commercially, but he tells me he won a lot of hearts.
My father tells me that is good. When people give you their hearts it shows that they are not heartless.
The world needs better writers. That is why I want to become a writer when I grow up.
* * * Fifteen Years Later * * *
“Hello ma’am! How are you” Kunal smiles and greets his favorite teacher from school, Mrs Nair, now retired.
“Kunal? I am doing well. How are you son? It’s been such a long time,” Mrs Nair greets him as she struggles to hold on to the bag of groceries in her hand.
“Yes ma’am, it’s me. I am good. We all miss your English classes. That was the only time when we were not treated like machines.”
“That’s so good to hear son. So tell me, did you finally become a writer? That’s what you wanted to become when you grew up.”
“Well ma’am. Life hasn’t been too kind to me, and I made a lot of wrong choices. But yes, today as I approach thirty, I can finally say that yes, I am finally a writer. A happy one, if not a rich one.”
“That sounds so nice, dear. I hope it all works out for you. Chalo, my daughter is here to pick me up. Give me your number so that we can keep it touch.”
“Sure ma’am, here is my card. And tell me your number so that I can save it”
“I didn’t know writers had visiting cards! Is this where you work? The Anonymous Writer?”
“This is where I write, ma’am. It’s a website. And they did not give me this card. I got it printed myself. Feels good to tell people that I am finally doing what I love.”
“I am so happy for you beta.”
“Thank you ma’am. It was so nice to see you after all these years. Goodbye ma’am.”
(Posted earlier on our Facebook page)