The Blackboard: A fable came true for a school girl

THE screeching noise of chalk on that blackboard echoes that monotony of regular classes and a fear deep inside my heart. I’ve feared to lose colours, clay, and playgrounds in my worst nightmares and my dreams stuck on the opposite edge.

But, yesterday a miracle happened, something I couldn’t have thought an ordinary day could bring. And those cheerful volunteers built a home inside my heart, especially that one. I call her Didi.

I don’t know if my best friend, my exclusive bench mate feels anything about chemistry or maths classes but I love arts as much as she loves her favourite subject.

Of that happy looking group of adults, Didi was one. She helped me with plantation. The days were long lost even in my dreams where I could play with clay all day. She was gentle, alive and enthusiastic to pull off all those broken strings of my self-esteem.

I’ve heard someone say that ‘Art’ could fetch you some money too like other jobs. I was seven or eight years old then, and it was yesterday when I felt that possibility again. I don’t know if it’s true but at least living in those moments of art were enriching, flourishing and enlightening. Many of those lovely smiles helped me through painting, and she explained to me how trees, greenery, and wilderness keeps the planet alive. I don’t talk much and failed to tell her that Trees were my best friends and I was amazed to learn such new facts about the environment.

Didi told me that a cleaner and greener environment not just heals our planet but also provides humanity with freshness to breathe. Some of us usually sneeze during the day and to overcome that she suggested us to keep our desks and surroundings hygienic. I can imagine my school turning a better, healthier and happier place to learn. Nothing like this happened before, and not only I but my teachers and other employees also got a glimpse into all-around schooling.

Although we spent an entire day picking up materials from my favourite tower which they referred to as scrap. I wonder why they were calling it so. As we kept on borrowing from “Mr. Scrap”, I was surprised to see structure out of nothingness. A few hours later, when we completed our tiny project, they uttered words like “play area”, and it surprised me to believe that we had our own play area. Later that day, we volunteered to plant the kitchen garden with seeds of some vegetables.

And that miraculous day is a permanent impression as a diary entry in the secret pocket zip locked well in my bag.

Such hours of knowledge and fun are rare in a school like mine. I know this screeching chalk on the blackboard right now is failing to divert my attention. It seems like a day when this friend of mine, this blackboard fails. I’m waiting for the bell to ring, for this is the first day in my school with an ‘Activity period’.