I did not feel any pain until I saw the blood coming out of my head like a fountain. I got scared. I had never dreamed of some thing like this would ever happen to me.
"Are you all right, Dubey?", Dimpu asked me. "Dharman has gone mad", he added. I was surrounded by friends. I was taken to the nearest hospital. It was just 200 meters away from play ground.
I was still thinking what happened. We were playing cricket in school ground. I was doing wicket keeping. I appealed that the last delivered ball to be considered as wide ball. Dharman came by, and his punch was over my head. I could not believe, he did that. Every body was shocked. He was the 'Kusti' and 'Boxing' champion of Akhil-Bharti Sports tournament. It was like my head was stroked by solid rod.
"This is a police case. Go and register a FIR", Dr Ram said. "This is a police case of attack on a Brahmin boy by a Yadav". I still can not believe his that statement. How can one be so stupid. It was just an accident. "Do not listen to him, go and have stitches", Dr Datta told me. I was regular patient of him when I was 10. I had more than 5 stitches near eyebrow.
Next day, Dharaman came to my home, and apologized to me as he was being expelled from school for his this behavior. My blood was boiling for revenge. But, I had no option other than forgiving him as board examination was over our head.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
BNP T/S
I am going to share few memories of my home town here.
When I close my eyes, and try to recollect some thing from past, a picture often pops-out in my mind, a image of a small town in the heart of Chhota-Nagpur, surrounded by the mountains from three sides. It seems like a place in the lap of nature. I can see a small boy carrying a bag on his back, running out of school and rushing all the way to reach play ground as soon as possible. Guest House, football ground, Club, Hospital, and a bunch of schools -- start dangling in front of me one by one. Those, who belong to this place, must have guessed by now. I am talking about my small home town 'Bhawanathpur Township', a raw material division of Bokaro steel plant. This place is blessed with all basic facilities -- Water, Electricity, Schools, Hospitals, Parks etc -- despite of being in the poorest region of country.
Public sector might be remembered as a failure story of Indian economy by next generation, but It has given a new life to thousands of people. I am one of the blessed individual among them. I spent my entire childhood there. Often I get lost in memories of those mountains, where I spent hours gossiping with friends, playing chess on the picks of mountains, and reading books in the lap of nature. Idea of making a raft using the bunch of bamboos for crossing the dam is one of funniest memories of my childhood.
When I close my eyes, and try to recollect some thing from past, a picture often pops-out in my mind, a image of a small town in the heart of Chhota-Nagpur, surrounded by the mountains from three sides. It seems like a place in the lap of nature. I can see a small boy carrying a bag on his back, running out of school and rushing all the way to reach play ground as soon as possible. Guest House, football ground, Club, Hospital, and a bunch of schools -- start dangling in front of me one by one. Those, who belong to this place, must have guessed by now. I am talking about my small home town 'Bhawanathpur Township', a raw material division of Bokaro steel plant. This place is blessed with all basic facilities -- Water, Electricity, Schools, Hospitals, Parks etc -- despite of being in the poorest region of country.
Public sector might be remembered as a failure story of Indian economy by next generation, but It has given a new life to thousands of people. I am one of the blessed individual among them. I spent my entire childhood there. Often I get lost in memories of those mountains, where I spent hours gossiping with friends, playing chess on the picks of mountains, and reading books in the lap of nature. Idea of making a raft using the bunch of bamboos for crossing the dam is one of funniest memories of my childhood.
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