"Laugh At Me" - A Narrative By Aishwarya Lakkakula, BA, Final Year

Picture Credit : Aishwarya Lakkakula

LAUGH AT ME

                    "Hmhm hahaha" I heard the group laughing. "Hehehe" I laughed too. 

                    Those were the dog days of April and no dog was seen on the roads. I was done with my final exams of class five, ready to beat back the holidays. But, the ball is not always in our court, it was my father who played the game then.

                   My dad had never seen me as a growing baby but as a girl ageing, running towards her grey hair. It made him so anxious, that he never wished me on my birthdays. He wanted me to be acquainted with all the education in the blink of an eye, as if I would sleep on my ‘Ampashayya’ the next moment. An antique material he was for me.

                On the first day of my holidays, I was, as usual, jumping on the bed with Sai and Deepak, in front of the mirror. I didn't remember why we began to fight suddenly, but I hit Deepak hard on his chest and he started to cry with a popcorn face. My dad rushed and gave me a bear's look, knowing who the culprit was. He pulled my arm and threw me into math tuition class. But he didn’t know that I was not alone. While his right hand was pulling my left arm, my right hand pulled Sai's left arm and we both landed in the tuition class. Sai glared at me, as if I were a terrorist on a suicide mission. I laughed at him.

                  My tuition was not a typical homework- mugging up- beating up business. It was a cage-free class with no divisions. The same chapter was taught to all the students, irrespective of their age and class. We not only had our classes taught by the teacher, but also by the students. It was fun being there. 

                 I was the same wherever I landed. No dad, no sir, no tuition class could control my talkative mischief. I always talked and talked and talked and questioned and questioned and questioned. One crazy morning, sir was teaching trigonometry and I was as busy as he was, disturbing my bench-mate. Sir turned around and pulled me out of the first bench, not to limit my talking, but to teach the class on behalf of sir. I pleaded him, not a no. "Hehehe" I laughed. I liked talking about anything, anywhere and to anyone.

                   I grabbed some coloured chalk from him and drew a square, to derive the Pythagoras theorem. The moment I started to talk, everyone in the class cackled at once. I wondered not, because I knew they were laughing at my language. I was a Telugu medium student, so I explained them, “On drawing a ‘Karnamu’, the ‘Chaturasram’ is divided into two ‘Lamba-kona Thribhujalu’”. I didn't feel bad at all. I too laughed with them.

                Sir turned bitter at their behaviour, but was surprised by my response. He was the only one who understood my dialect and looked at me, placing his dry hand on my head and pronounced "I congratulate you my dear for doing the toughest job ever. Do you know? It is easy to make people cry but it is very difficult to make them laugh, and you did it. You be the same. You will be happy." I was struck by those beautiful words and they always resonate in my mind. This time, I smiled at him and jumped to my mischief and it continued. 

                 I am happy for the people laughing with me and I am happy for the people laughing at me. I am selfish. All that matters to me is your laughs. 

                          Come to me, to laugh. 

                          Laugh and laugh and laugh!

                                                                                   ~ Aishwarya Lakkakula (BA)