Pen-seal — Chapter 3
As I asked the stationary guy to give me a pen, little did he know that we are grown up and pencils are for kids now, his happy face conveyed that the box of pencils which he expected me to buy will need more time to be sold out, scribbling on the pad and feeling the flow of the pen I realise the water bottle and the paper folding friend tapping my shoulder, showing-off their pens and pointing towards some people standing on the other side. I see our parents in the corridor waiting for their predecessors as we marched towards a room where our thoughts were conditioned each day, a place as energetic as an empty playground; where we are welcomed by someone who smiles at our blood relatives accompanying us, making me more anxious and worried whether my scroll of deeds will keep that smile on their face for this long?
I look at the other two beside me taking their elder counterparts on a tour of the room where they demonstrate the paper and colour creations all across the classroom and me introducing the broom guy to my parents whose smile gives me a sigh every morning and the screw driver uncle who came out from another room and stopped to meet my parents. While the lady from home was happy and relieved watching me explain how the broom guy helps to keep the place clean she was more eagerly listening when the broom guy told her that I always ask others to use the dustbin, making me hate the broom guy as he gets more attention than me, which made me turn to the two familiar faces I see each day, one in the school and the other at home, quickly I take out some tools from his bag and describe to them why the hammer cannot be used to screw and a nail is not something to be beaten by a screwdriver. I was embarrassed to see 4 proud faces because of these tools that gave them this feeling.
Before I could express my anti-gratitude to them I see the other people in the classroom sing the praises to the decoration on the walls and wait for their turn to be revealed with all the information that will decide our futures’, I saw my sparrow friend on the tree and the jail garden filled with kids and parents. I realise the big toys will have a hard day today, the sparrow flew and how could I have foreseen the branch of the tree, it was coming closer to the window day by day. When the woman sitting at the other side of the furniture called my name and I saw my parents in front of her, she began her performance which included a lot of feedback on exercises I do on the big toys, my networking skills, my architectural bend and what not. The only thing questioning was her emotions during the performance, which did not expressed happiness about her dialogue from anywhere as she concluded by demonstrating the decorations on the wall titled as “BROOM GUY: our responsibility towards cleanliness” and “SCREW DRIVER UNCLE: the machines we use daily”. How I wish I could tell her “the hammer cannot be used to screw and a nail is not something to be beaten by a screwdriver.”
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- Italicized content: highly sarcastic
