Pardon Me Sir

His sister’s face – bruised and bandaged – flashed across his mind as Yash walked up to receive the ‘Student of the Year’ award from the Principal. So, what makes one a good student? Good grades, being the teachers’ pet…what was it, wondered Yash. Because, although his sister scored good grades, her teachers were wary of her – after all, she talked too much and seemed to have a mind of her own. Certainly not the material that makes teachers’ pets, Yash realized.

As his friends lustily cheered for him and the entire students’ body clapped on, Yash did the unimaginable. He walked up to the podium, and as he shook the Principal’s hand, he requested the man if he could briefly address the gathering. 

“Bhaiyon…” he started, “for being selfishly focused on my own academic achievements, for being insensitive to the conditions of so many my age who lack the privileges that I do and to celebrate the courage of all those who face suppression when they ask for their rights, I am returning the trophy to Principal Sir, with no malice or disrespect, but with all respect and admiration for those who stand up for their rights and that of their less privileged friends. More importantly, those who are silenced by brute force because they dare to think. Jai secular socialist Hind!” “Pardon me, Sir!”