‘School final exam starts from today. And that brings so much rush’, the priest mumbles.
Currency notes/coins flood
the aarti plate and that makes his eyes glint
The temple is full of Teens.
They have been calling to me from the small hours of the morning.
I feel tired sitting long and
blessing all my devotees. To stretch myself a bit, I come out of my idol and
stand beside it unseen.
Demands of students who visit
my place today are similar. They implore I must help them crack their exams the
way they like.
I smile at them and answer
their prayers which they may not hear: ‘let your hard work define your
success.’
‘Lord Ganesha, bestow all
your blessings only on me. Thanks for the idea you plant on my head. Let it
click. I don’t want to get it sucked. All I want is just a pass in the exam. I
want only to scrape through. No more or less, sir.’
A voice from the crowd shocks
me and throw me into utter confusion.
‘When did I plant an idea on
his head? And what the fellow means by it’. I whine, reproaching my inability
to understand human minds.
I now gaze at the boy.
He stands before my idol; his
head bowed. He is skinny, looks like he is coming from a family of poor means.
After a long pause, he begins chanting Ganesh Stotram in a voice that melts him
whenever he mentions my multiple names.
The boy – let me call him The
Skinny -- is silent for a moment. Holding up his hands towards my idol, he then
repeats his plea: ‘Dear god, help me accomplish what I plan. It’s your
blessings that will make me surmount all the hurdles coming in my way.’
‘Yes, my boy. I will be with
you today and help you remember what you studied’. I mutter, still standing
mesmerized by the Stotram he sang a few minutes back.
The exam hall is full of boys
and girls. Most of their faces are familiar to me since I met them in the
morning at the temple.
I like to stand in the
veranda by the side of a big open window. The two sturdy women invigilators
deposit themselves on their respective chairs after issuing question papers.
They soon begin to doze off while attempting to read a pulp.
I watch the Skinny. He is
happy that the two exam supervisors are fast asleep. He then unfolds the folded
sleeves of his shirt and reels out bits of papers, all crab notes. Consulting
his bits, he writes the answers so fast like a student who studiously studied
his lessons.
I shudder. I now understand
what he bragged about in the morning. He only wanted me an accomplice to this
sinful act. But, I was too naive to understand the hell of his plan.
Soon, I notice a posse of
officials from a flying squad buzz along the veranda and land on the hall. The
two damsels who get into their feet are scared to the marrow of their bones.
The squad dismiss them from the hall and brings in new invigilators.
The boy, too, gets
devastated. He seems jolted out of his wits. He hurriedly puts all his bits
inside his shirt as soon as he sees the squad. His answer sheet is as blank as
his mind.
The rush of students swell in
the evening too.
The Skinny scampers into the
sanctum in a flash. He looks askance at me. Burning with anger and rage, he is
pretty good emotional.
‘You cheat.’ He explodes,
throwing his choicest expletives at me. ‘You didn’t help me to do what I
wanted. You failed me. I had to abort my plan since there was no blessings from
you. You duck your duty when people need you most. You’re a trickster.’ The
skinny leaves the temple in a huff, but not before throwing the bits of papers
in the temple hundi.
The moment the boy-in-agony
leaves my place, another chirpy one appears from nowhere. He is all smiles. He
races toward the front yard and starts breaking a sackful of coconuts. When the
priest asks him the reason, he looks around and whispers.
‘Thanks to Ganesh Ji, I cracked
the test extremely well. When I wrote answers referring to the bundles of
papers I carried into the hall, I didn’t get caught. Nor was there any
disturbance from the supervising guys. So, now is the time for thanksgiving?
Don’t close the temple until I finish off with the last coconut.
The priest grimace.
‘People hate taking
responsibilities, but blame god for their failures. That they have such
mindsets in this Kali Yuga is not surprising.’ His mawkish monologues continue
until he closes the door of the sanctum.
‘Gods have their own Karma
that result even from their not doing anything.’ I say to me and laughs.
[The way J. O’Brien writes things
are simply awesome. I can’t be frugal with words as he does. I splurge them
often. So, a small piece I begin to write ends up writing like a trilogy.]
