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She started speaking…
Just like many lucky kids, I also can say proudly that my father is my hero. When does “a just another father” turns a hero? It does not demand any special cinematic scenes or a formidable villain to make our man a hero.
I started feeling a hero in my father when he took a stand against the most fearful character in my life. Well, that was the time I started going to school and that character is my teacher Stella, who used to give all the scary assignments on the 2 lined and 4 lined note. I compared that horror of writing 2-3 pages of homework to eating spinach. On Spinach’s case my mother takes the teacher’s place and always insist me to eat them complete. I had no choice because even my father supports her.
But the choice was with me, when it comes to my homeworks. I felt it so tough to complete 2-3 pages and submitted my half done assignments to Teacher-Stella. Gone the day one, day two of her advices and finally she called up my parents to complain against me.
It was the day my hero emerged. My father reached school and listened to the teacher’s complaints. He advised teacher-Stella that she should allow me some time to pick up writing speed and give less assignments. My father backed me. That angered her and she yelled at my dad that he was careless about his child’s future.
My father turned towards other kids and asked openly “Hey Kids, do you like homework?”. Even I didn’t expect that and we all kids remained silent. Of course, we were at our LKG and our teacher was standing just before us; how could we answer!
“Do not worry, Stella Miss won’t say anything, you can tell” my father insisted us to reply. I was the first girl to raise my hand and say “No”, then a few other kids joined me and then the entire class. I could still remember the reaction on teacher-Stella’s face.
My father smiled at her. She went on to advise him, “See, this is not the way, which kid like to do the homework. After all, it’s just 3 pages and takes 10 mins to complete. You should understand and do not encourage kids like this”.
He took my 4 lined note and the assignment “A for Apple, B for Ball, C for Cat” was still incomplete. He gave it to her and asked “Miss Stella are you right or left?”
“Right!” She replied with a question in her eyes.
“Fine, then, you take a pencil and try completing these 3 pages in 10 mins, but with your left hand” my father challenged her.
She smiled “Ha ha.. Are you kidding me?”
“No, I am serious, just take it easy. Try once” my father smiled back.
She tried as my father told and she started writing with her left hand. God! She wrote exactly same as how we used to write. The letters wobbled, there are waves and every letter was like Kurkure chips. We all laughed when my father shown it to us, so as the teacher-Stella.🙂 She could not complete even a single page with neatness.
She needed no explanation that our tender fingers and her unpracticed left hand faced the same hurdles. My father won that day and homeworks were reduced. Not just alone for me, but for the entire kids.
That day he became my hero.
And today he has become a hero of this entire nation. I may not know what terrorism is all about, I am just a Sixth Class student giving this speech before you. But I am sure you all know what violence and terrorism is all about. I am sure about what a gun is, what a bomb is and what happens when it is fired. They tried to do the same on that school bus. Why they tried to kill school kids? I hope you can find any sense out of it, Can you? No? Right? Yes, I am also unable to find any justice in killing innocents.
My father was not a bomb squad expert. All he could do was to take that bomb and run as far as he could away from the school bus and kids. He did that so well. He saved everyone. But there was no Hero to save my father’s life from that bomb.
But I do have a message to the Terrorists “Thanks for making my Father a Hero in million of hearts, before he was a hero in just a single heart and I request you all terrorists to let my father be The Last Hero”.
Thank you all.
She completed addressing the crowd and the national media, filling millions of eyes with tears and gratitude. There she goes along with her mother to collect the Bravery Award for her Father and her Last Hero.
- Written by Din
Submitted at WEP : What comes to mind for the March WEP challenge – Through the eyes of a child? Rewriting a passage from a child’s POV? A montage of images through the eyes of a child? A poignant or exhilarating poem? A non-fiction piece told from a child’s POV? The possibilities are limitless!
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