Us │✔

36│Try Everything

Jivika~

CLASS PARTY X B 2019-20

I checked if the it was in a straight line or not for the umpteenth time. Writing on the board was a tough job, which I had become used to. But with my hands shaking it felt like a déjà vu, when I had just started with the board-monitor job in sixth grade.

Every body was in a total party mood, shaking their hips and limbs for a change.

But with Kar Gayi Chull playing from one side, and Abhi Toh Party from the other—my brain was going haywire. And at the point where Badshah was singing, 'Party chalegi till six in the morning' when his way of saying six and sex sounded the same, that's when Sonika ma'am entered the class with this puzzled look on her face.

The speakers were soon disconnected as we gave her our 'oh-so-innocent' grins.

"Listen children. I want you to listen to what I'm going to say now and try to decipher it. Everyone is here right?"

Taking out her phone, she opened up her Facebook. Clicking on a particular post, she cleared her throat and began with it.

Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure's face,
my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children's race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn't hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy's desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
was running in the lead and thought "My dad will be so proud."
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought he'd win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn't win it now.
Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
which to the boy so clearly said, "Get up and win that race!"
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that's all,
and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
"I'm hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn't try to race."

But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father's face
with a steady look that said again, "Get up and win that race!"
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
"If I'm to gain those yards," he thought, "I've got to run real fast!"
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
"There's no sense running anymore! Three strikes I'm out! Why try?
I've lost, so what's the use?" he thought. "I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he'd have to face.