The Wee Little Tale of Sneha.

The Wee Little Tale of Sneha .


"So who will make charts for the poem? I need one chart...", questioned the second grade Hindi teacher.

Two hands immediately shot up...the other students looked at their feet or their partners...

"Sunita, Sneha...But I only need one chart..."

"Please ma'am me..."
"Ma'am I'll make it better...!"

After a bit of rumination, the teacher relented "OK both of you can make it and I'll choose the one that is better."

Sneha didn't know whether to be pleased or nervous, so she was both. Competition made her extremely unsure of herself...well, she would try anyway.

"Here Sneha, you can take the pink chart, Sunita take this yellow one. I want them tomorrow, poem with a drawing next to it...remember the supervisor and headmaster may come to class and look at the chart so make it properly.", warned the teacher ominously.


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"Daddy please!! I tried!! See those pencil marks ? I can't do it! And it has to be submitted tomorrow...the supervisor will see it and if I don't submit it, my teacher will shout at me!!", Sneha begged her father while looking beseechingly at her mother.

"You do draw well darling...", her mother said coaxingly to her husband who appeared to be melting.

"Hmmm...Ok. But what if the teacher comes to know?"

"No no...I promise I won't tell her! I'll say I made it myself! "

"Ok, give me the poem and I'll draw it. Fine way to spend a weekend. Drawing at work and at home!"

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"Ok, show me the two charts...I hope both of you got them ready? I want no excuses."

"Yes Ma'am!", Sunita and Sneha both piped up proudly.

"Ok, first Sneha show me yours and then we'll see Sunita's work."

Sneha proudly [and anxiously] unrolled her finished chart complete with poetry written neatly and the drawing of the old woman depicted in it. She may not have had the perfect features but she was good enough.

"Hmm...this is OK. Nice...You did this yourself? Or did someone help you? Children look at this...do you like it?"

"Yes ma'am...", echoed the little boys and girls in unison.

"Ma'am I did it myself!", said Sneha, coloring a little.

"OK, good ,now Sunita show me what you have made."

Sunita reluctantly opened her yellow chart towards the teacher.

"What is this Sunita?"

"Ma'am...poem."

"This is to be put up on the drawing board? In front of the supervisor and the headmaster?! I didn't give you this chart to tear and dirty with your pencil marks! And the poem writing is so small I can't even see it! Do you think anyone will be able to read it on the board? And what is this drawing? How could you submit something so shabby??"

Sunita hung her head in shame.

So did Sneha.

The yellow chart was torn at the edges, probably in the bus ride to school. The light color of the chart paper made the grubby pencil marks stand out glaringly. The poem was written in an uneven hand, the lines travelling up and down, but not in a straight line. The drawing of the woman was poorly done...by a child's hand. But they were children after all...

"Look class...See the two charts side by side? Which on is neater? more presentable? Which writing and drawing is better? Sunita's or Sneha's?", the teacher conducted an instant mini poll

"Sneha's ma'am...", the class pointed out in agreement with the teacher.

"So shabby".
Sneha watched a tear splash on the ground beneath Sunita.

Sneha's chart was immediately put up on the chartboard and the class oooh'ed and Aaah'ed over it.

Sunita's was in the large dustbin outside the class. For the rest of the day
Sunita remained silent.

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"Come on get in line...walk straight to the bus.", the prefect scolded Sneha who was the last one to leave in her class.

"Just a minute I forgot my waterbottle...my mother will shout at me.", Sneha needed to get back to class urgently while it was empty.

"Ok, but I'll be watching for you."

Sneha ran back to class, roughly unpinned the chart her father had made, from the board and rolled it. Unable to find the rubber band to hold it in place she just clutched it in her chubby little fingers and ran as fast as she could before anyone could see her and stop her.

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"Beta didn't your teacher like the chart?", Sneha's mother asked as she saw her tired and grumpy daughter walk in the front door.

"She liked it, but the other girl's chart was better...and she made it herself..."

"Oho...it's ok beta...no need to feel bad."

"No...I am just feeling hot...and hungry."

Sneha could now take her afternoon nap in peace and with a light heart.

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Afterword : Just so you know, this is a true story [not word for word] and till this date Sneha remembers Sunita, from her ponytail to her grubby hands and most of all she remembers the teardrop that dared to fall from her lowered eyelids and her head hung in shame.