28 February, 2014

Shattered Spectacles

From the Author:
It is great to know that you all have been following this blog for so long. Thank you for you support. 
It is notable that the blog has got over 1000 hits now.(A mark which people reach very quickly, unlike me.) 

But there are 2 important things that I want from you now.

Please refer this blog to your friends who may be interested in such short stories.

The other is, please comment on how the story is. Even if it is a negative one.

Thank You.
Enjoy your Reading.

The city was still in the grasp of the dense fog that had settled during the night, as Ram walked past streetlight after streetlight, prepared for another day of fight. He reached the place of work and with droopy eyes, fighting the sleep that was waiting to take over; he started arranging the desks for students to use.

It took some time and then students would start pouring in for the class. A strong aroma of flora filled the room as a girl entered. He left to take care of the attendance. On passing a boy, he noted the raw fragrance arising from him. As the boy disappeared into the class, Ram smelt his shirt. A tinge of stink filled his nostrils. He shook his head vehemently. Making a mental note to buy a 50-gram detergent, he sat down with the attendance register.

Broken Glass

Students came in trendy and fashionable outfits. He was counting the legs that passed him to note the number of students who attended the class. He could not get himself to look up at them. Realizing the shabby and worn out clothes he wore and not to mention the slippers, holes of which he covered with his feet, he classified himself in a different league.

Soon, the class was full and the teacher had arrived. As the class began, Ram walked into the room and listened to the impartations of the professor with a giant eagerness. His eyes narrowed and ears widened as he tried to decipher every word he heard. He was poor in English.

Ram heard some chatters in the room. Two boys started chatting with disrespect to the man who was talking. Ram turned his head to have a look at them. Walking towards them, he signalled to maintain silence. His comments went unheeded as the boys continued their activity. Their persistent murmurs made it difficult for Ram to understand what was being said. His old dreams resurfaced.

He ran outside and sat near the stairs. Ram’s eyes were red waiting for the water to breakthrough his eyes. He covered himself mildly so that no one could easily find out what he was doing. All his dreams had shattered the moment he started to work leaving his studies. No one came forward to help the orphan to pay the fees to continue his education. His dream of being a doctor had burnt and slipped through his grasp as smoke would.

Salty waters from the red eyes stained his cheeks. The harsh reality of life had hit him hard, pulverizing his vision through the spectacles of dreams. The shattered spectacles of glass was unrepairable. He had come crashing down. With just a high school certificate, showing his brightness in studies, he was accepted only for menial jobs. He had accepted defeat at the hands of the money-driven society. He was poor.

And here he saw rich people wasting their lives gossiping and chatting despite being offered the priceless chance to study. They seldom appreciated the precious opportunity they had been offered. He wiped the cheeks dry and turned around to find the two boys who had been talking come out of the class halfway through. He inferred that they had been shunted out of the class.

It was as every day. He was left crying by people who never understood but abused their expedient positions. They neither enjoyed their privilege nor helped others like him.

After all, he was just a high-school dropout in the eyes of the society.

---THE END---


  1. Thank you for inviting me to read this, I enjoyed it. Keep up the good writing!

    1. Thanks a lot. It really makes a difference when someone comments on your post.

      It's great to know that you enjoyed it.

  2. Replies
    1. Thank you, Shriram, for your continued visits.


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