Dreams taken with every Step

2. Moment

"Jo bhatakta hai wahi to raah banata hai,

Jo sambhalta hai wahi to parwaaz paata hai.

Roke jo rasta andhiyon ka,

Wahi to waqt se jeet jata hai."

- Ramdhari Singh Dinkar

"Sometimes the most dangerous battle is the one fought within-Yash's had only just begun."

So, here I am, standing at the gate of my school building, feeling restless and hollow. Papa hasn't arrived yet for my PTM (Parents Teacher Meeting), and the clock is ticking. In my school, meetings are held after lunch. Before that, we attend our classes for a half-day, and then everyone's parents come, take them home along with their report cards-some students leave smiling, others with scowls from their parents. But me? I just wait, like always.

Papa or Ma never attend my meetings. Papa never gets leave, and Ma...well, she just doesn't care. But today, I knew Papa had the day off. He's been working overtime for days, and I thought-maybe today, he'd show up. But even with the time off, he didn't come. My heart sinks lower with each passing minute.

When the time was up, my class teacher, Mrs. Mehta, and the principal scolded me. They hardly ever meet my parents, and now that I'm at the bottom of the class-failing four subjects-they had plenty to say. The principal already called Papa earlier in the week to tell him I failed. She also told him I've been playing football, something I've hidden for so long. And Papa's response? "From now on, he will not play. Dismiss his name from the team." That sentence felt like a sledgehammer to my chest. Just like that, something I loved was taken away. My heart shattered, but no one noticed. No one cared.

Now, it's 3:20 pm, and I'm standing in front of the gate of what should be my home. But it doesn't feel like that anymore. I don't belong here. This isn't a place of comfort or warmth. It's a prison. A place where my dreams are sentenced to death. Where every step I take is a reminder of the expectations I can never meet..