As I sit in the middle of my class, I have this feeling that I don’t fit here.. I know all these people in my class and yet I feel that I don’t know them. Are they really my friends? I just have this urge to get up and walk out from the class and into the street.. Walk and walk and walk..


I step out of my class and my school and I keep walking, not knowing the time that has elapsed. Suddenly I find myself under a HUGE tree.. A tree that has roots and roots and roots that seemed to grow everywhere.. It looks so beautiful that I could not but want to sit under it.. I looked around the tree to see where I could sit. Every place around the tree looks tempting and every root seems to beckon me. I finally find a spot where a ray of the sun finally finds its gap between the roots to make its presence felt on the ground below. It also manages to cast its shadow on me. 


Am I playing with the shadow or was it playing with me? I guess both of us are playing with each other and I find myself smiling after what seemed like years – smiling when I am with myself.. Oh, how good it feels now!!!


I play with the shadow, smiling and chuckling to myself when I heard another soft chuckle. I look around to see another person sitting near another root, looking at me and chuckling. I feel embarrassed and am ready to leave when this person stops me and asks, “You seem to be too young to be out here playing. Aren’t you supposed to be in school studying?”. I put my head down not wanting to answer the question. I could feel the smile in me disappear and feel the urge to flee from that place. “I am sorry. You don’t like school do you?”, asks the person. I did not feel like answering that question. 


The long roots that fell from the branches joined together and there was a beautiful swing that was there, as though waiting for me to swing in it. Ignoring the person, I go to sit on the swing and slowly start swinging.. Out of somewhere within me, comes a song that I start to hum. I swing slowly, my feel touching the ground to make me push myself ever so slightly. My hands grip the roots that make the frames of the swing; and I swing, oblivious to the fact that I am being watched. 


Something makes me stop and I look around to see the person watching me. This time, I give a smile and receive a joyous smile in return. I take time to be comfortable around strangers but I feel so comfortable around this person. Why? 


As though in synchrony, I looked up at the HUGE tree and looked at the shadows to know that it is afternoon already; and the person also asks me, “Don’t you feel hungry?”. 


With every cell screaming within me that I was getting late, I look at the person in alarm. I take to a run and stop when I reach the monastery. I stop to remove my footwear when I realise that I was not even wearing them. Washing my feet in the tap at the entrance, I walk into the monastery and I hear a voice –  A familiar voice.. A voice that could only show compassion. I turn in the direction of the voice and see the old man sitting there in all serenity, reading from a book. He does not look up to see me. He just says, “You are late today. People are waiting for you to come”. I hurry in my steps toward the dining hall to see people seated to have their lunch. People who had nowhere to go. People who come there for their free meals. Today is my day to serve lunch for them. Exchanging a word and a smile with the people who were eating, I serve them and watch them eat in hunger. It takes an hour to serve them and to help clean the dining hall. It is time to leave. I was about to step into the main hall of the monastery on my way out, when I hear the familiar voice say, “Here is your favorite. Eat it on your way home. You have earned it today.” He gives me my favorite mix of dry fruits. I take the fruits from him, give him a smile and a mental hug. I walk out thinking, “He never tells me what I need to do. He just drops a hint”


About to step out of the monastery, I see  my school bag and footwear, kept in the doorway of the monastery. I look around to see the person who may have kept them there. Disappointed at not being able to spot the person anywhere, I start walking home, mechanically popping the dry fruits in my mouth. 


As I walk home, I yet again have the feeling of, “I don’t fit there”. I stop, wondering if I should go back to the monastery or the tree.  Knowing that there is no use fighting reality, I start walking home. By the time I reach home, I have finished eating the dry fruits but feel a heaviness over me. 


I walk into my house to hear my father pacing in the huge hall.. I pulled my lagging shoulders up and braced myself for what would follow.. 


A square peg in a round hole…