Crayons

Still I remember the days when I was in the first standard. My school was adjacent to my house. I lived in a two-storeyed house which only a few had built in the early 90s. I was asked by my drawing miss to bring a crayons pencil box and that was the first time I saw how crayons were. As nagged by me, my father bought a crayons box. It was a cardboard box with the slide. As instructed I wrote my name with an initial and gave it to my miss. She kept it safe.

While using crayons we had the habit of looking at others' boxes. Some envied, some looked with awe at the boxes with more than 12 colours. The school remained closed owing to unexpected flood which collapsed properties and lives of animals. my father and others swam to get and distribute foods. It lasted for more than a week and we returned to our schools after 10 days.

During art and crafts period my miss brought a box with all leftover somewhat good crayons. All mixed up and we took broken crayon pencils of different colours. We took whichever remnant was there and used to colour the picture. The flood washed away the bidding emotions within us. Nothing remained in the flood ;neither our crayon box nor our identity, so are our pride and envy...