Read #1 book on Hinduism and enhance your understanding of ancient Indian history.
Read #1 book on Hinduism and enhance your understanding of ancient Indian history.

Dr.Shweta Prakash Kukreja

Abstract Tragedy Others


Dr.Shweta Prakash Kukreja

Abstract Tragedy Others

Let Me Live..!

Let Me Live..!

3 mins 260 3 mins 260

My pain knew no bounds as I read the news in the newspaper. I was shivering and crying as the news hit me hard, "14 year old chose death over life as solution". It was Ronit, my student, a rare and different one.

Among all class ninth students he had a different way of writing. He was good at Science and English as would answer almost every question. Lean body, small eyes behind rectangular glasses, soft voice and extremely polite tone. It was his behaviour that made him stand apart from rest of the students. He scored fairly well in almost every test. Being a student of city's most reputed school he should have a long list of friends but he had none.

Nobody preferred to sit with him on the same bench. It was Teacher's Day and student brought lots of pen, choclates, cards etc for me. I was surrounded with my nineth class students reading their beautiful cards when I noticed him sitting on the bench.

"Ronit, come have a piece of cake. "

"Ma'am I've got something for you. "he handed a neatly done packet.

I jumped with joy as I took out a small snow man. "Aww. . that's too cute. Ronit it's very different, not the usually one we see in the market. "I said as I noticed it very carefully.

"Maam I made it from an old socks and few other waste things. I made this for you. "

I was spellbound by his creativity. He was filled with pride as I patted his back. It was the best gift I got on that day.

It was during February when exams were approaching. I heard him having an argument with another boy. That boy addressed him 'Chakka' (transgender). I scolded the other boy badly as I saw Ronit getting uncomfortable. I asked the boy why he used such term for Ronit,

"Ma'am it's not only me everyone calls him with the same term. You don't know ma'am how he behaves, he walks. He's not a boy. "

That was the last day Ronit attended my class. All my calls went unanswered.

After that heartbreaking news I went to meet his family. I couldn't control myself as I met his mother and sister.

"He was bullied very badly ma'am. "her sister sobbed. "Since a young kid he suffered verbal harrassment in bus, school and in his class. Many a times teachers too mocked him. Last year we changed his school but his old batchmates would write rubbish on his FB wall. He lost interest in his studies as well as his creative work. We never knew that he would choose death to get rid of this situation. All his dreams to be a fashion designer were shattered. Yes, he was soft hearted and polite. I guess in our society such boys are not accepted.

He liked you a lot but even in your class he was not spared. Didn't you notice pain in his eyes?"

I was throttled by her question.  

"Why I wasn't able to understand his situation. He was bullied in this class only and I wasn't aware. May be I could have helped him. Maybe he would have changed his mind. Maybe. . !

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