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  • Category: Creative Writing

    The school box beside the coffin

    It is an old story but is nevertheless fresh in my mind as if it had happened just recently. I had just joined as a teacher in a school in a remote village in the North-East. Being from another corner of the country, I had the initial confusions with regard to the language, food, climate and so many other things. But luckily for me, the accommodation arranged by the authorities was near to one Mr Vihokhe who was a government contractor. He had one son and a daughter. His wife, though uneducated and a typical village lady, was also very loving and friendly. Having such a friendly family as my neighbours helped me to overcome my homesickness soon and I started feeling comfortable.

    His son, Lokho, was studying in our school only and was then in Class VIII. He was a brilliant student and was very active in co-curricular activities also. I was teaching mathematics and it was the ease with which he approached the subject and the interest he exhibited to learn the nuances that made him my favourite student.

    Since there was no public transport system then, one had to walk across to their destinations. Most of the time Lokho used to give me company in the stretch from my house to the school and back. He would have many questions to ask and that was never restricted to any single subject. But I never discouraged him because I had always felt that a teacher must guide and encourage his students to excel in every field. I could make out that he was looking for a friend, guide and mentor in me and I gave out my heart to ensure that he never felt disheartened.

    But the good days did not last long. One day, Lokho suddenly collapsed in the classroom. We immediately arranged a vehicle and took him to the nearest hospital after informing his parents. As I was about to leave the school, our headmaster handed over a box to me and told me, 'Samuel, since you are neighbours, could you take Lokho's school box along? You may hand it over as and when they return.' I took the box and came back to my room not knowing that I would never be able to hand it over to its owner again.

    I was suddenly feeling very lonely. I realized how this young friend had made my days in the village so easy. I was missing him badly. I skipped my dinner and lay down on my bed. I woke up to the wailing sound from my neighbourhood and rushed outside. I could see a crowd in front of Vihokhe's house and I knew that the most unexpected had happened. Did I curse God for a moment? I must have.

    I just walked across carrying the school box which seemed to be heavier and saw the young man lying in the coffin in his last sleep, unaware of all that was happening around him, unaware that life would not be the same for his dear 'Sam' sir without him. I can never forget the peace on his face and the visibly endearing smile. I silently kept the school box beside the coffin and moved to a corner where I could let my tears flow.

    This is my entry for A school box- creative writing contest.
  • #700438
    The author has penned down a tearful story of his close friend on his close behavior and the parting ways of life which was ably written through the front of eyes narration.
    K Mohan @ Moga
    'Idhuvum Kadandhu Pogum "
    Even this challenging situation would ease

  • #700440
    This is a very tragic but beautiful and concise, story. Definitely one worthy of award. The story takes us to different places. It is very dynamic, taking us to places and moods.
    The stronger a light shines the darker are the shadows around it.

  • #700441
    A sad story about the boy and his school box. The author has presented the story in a good flow and sequence and is a touching one. The school box which was the part and parcel of that boy in school was lying aside in the silence in the aftermath of the said untimely demise and is connected to him even after. Well presented.
    Knowledge is power.

  • #700492
    The author brought a new angle to the TOW topic. He brought sentimental touch in the story connected to an item used by almost all the students. I felt very sad for the parents of the boy. A very well narrated story.
    drrao
    always confident

  • #700496
    A really sad one with the tragic ending and presented beautifully with every detail. Few things always remain in our minds and this story is one such. After reading this story, I remained silent for a while. We can easily picturize the situation from the narration.
    Sankalan

    "Life is easier when you enjoy what you do"

  • #700506
    It's really a very sad story. The author has depicted the story quite beautifully.

  • #700555
    A good story with a heart-touching and tragic ending. It is a common act that a student gets close to his teacher and look towards him as a mentor, guide and above all a guiding star that helps him to cope with every hurdle of life. The same is depicted in the story and the bond that both carried. It is also obvious that a teacher starts liking a student when he/she feels that he is actually a student who is eager to learn, showing interest and above all, have respect towards him/her. The tragic end of the loving student bring in tears as he got attached to him for his understanding and knowing that he(Lokho) was looking for a friend, guide and mentor in me(Sam) and what more can a teacher ask for from his student. Lovely script with a different angle for the school box contest.
    “The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in." — Morrie Schwartz

  • #700597
    The story has a tragic event and the boy's school box is present there during that sad and painful situation. The author has narrated the story in a fluent way and there is a good flow in it.
    Thoughts exchanged is knowledge gained.

  • #700601
    This writeup though ending with a tragic climax yet shows the relationship of a student with a teacher as a remarkable event in the building lives.

    Can you imagine how and when a teacher becomes a favourite teacher? I too learnt from this article on my favourite teacher in school. Then, I could recall my favourite Hindi teacher, a gem of a person with beautiful handwriting and always would speak to students politely. We also would visit her house quiet often just over a cup of tea and snacks. We were in class eighth as the student Lokho was in this story.
    In this story, I am still curious as to why the child left his master who was his close friend.

    Lead the leader

  • #700649
    I skippedthis story two times because I did not like the word coffin aligned to school box.
    Then I somehow force myself to read.
    Reading all around about tragedy and pain is not welcome. I prefer happy ending stories and comedies now. But I take it just as an entry for a contest .


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