Friday the Thirteenth

I was walking along talking to myself as usual, you know like I do. My mother feels amazed by it. However now she cries sometimes. I don’t know why. Father used to cuddle me such a lot. Now he doesn’t even look at me. He used to take me on those lovely walks. He used to teach me such a lot of things – birds, nature, English and Maths. Now he doesn’t even call out me like he used to – “Neil, bring your Maths book”. I sit alone, mystified, both by his actions and the tough problems before me. My mother used to cook such wonderful dishes for me. Even my friends don’t play with me now – Raju, Ravi, Sameer and all of them. I watch alone from afar.

It all changed that fateful day (at least I think so). It was Jan 13th Friday. I woke up quite late. About 7:00 a.m. School starts at 7:30. My mother started scolding me. Ramudada was waiting for a long time. I reached school 5 minutes late. I got a scolding from my class teacher. I had to stand through the whole first period as punishment. I had a feeling that it was going to be a bad day. Yet it was Friday the Thirteenth. The next few periods passed quite unfruitfully. Boring History classes. Break time. My bad luck seemed to follow me everywhere. We were playing hand cricket. A shot of mine broke my best friend Raju’s glasses. He came and hit me. I hit him back. We had a big fight. The Principal even got attracted by the commotion. He scolded us both and threatened to call up our parents if we repeated it. We said sorry but a coldness developed between us.

I don’t know why but certain small incidents of my life came back to me those last three periods after break. Small yet significant and happy. Probably God was just giving me a helping of those beautiful seven years since I first let out that innocent wait to prepare me for the whole life of thorns that was to follow before me.

I remembered the pranks I played on my ayah. Her incessant complaining to my mother and my mother just used to laugh them off and come and kiss me on my rosy cheeks. I was an angel. But out of the corner of the eye I would give a devilish wink to my ayah. But I used to love her. The day she went away to her village we both cried a lot. My father used to bring some sort of gift everyday he returned from office. One day he didn’t bring any. I sulked and sulked till he gave me his shaving brush as a gift. (The bristles went off in a few days though). Now he doesn’t even bring me a gift. I sulked for a couple of days. No one paid any attention to me. I remember my first day with Ramudada. He plays fantastic football and teaches me a lot of new things.

I was brought back to reality by my Geography teacher. She was shouting at me for not paying any attention. I stood up, head bowed down. She asked me to get out of the class. I left silently. I again remembered Friday the Thirteenth. School got over. Ramudada was waiting. We set off for home.

It was about a ten minute walk. I was playing with a crazy ball I had just bought. Ramudada asked me to wait at the crossing while he bought a packet of supari. I bounced my crazy ball in impatience while waiting. It got onto the road. I rushed after it. I heard a loud honk behind me. I raced out the way and tried to catch the ball at the same time. However it slipped out of my hands and went off. I felt extremely light as if I have left something behind. I went back to the pavement. Ramudada came running. It felt so awkward. I tried to call ramudada. He did not even notice. I wanted to go home. There was a big commotion. I stood there unwanted. Even Mummy and Daddy came. They did not even notice me. Out of anger I walked home alone. But since then I have remained unwanted.

While I write all these in my room, my mother opens the room. I call out to her. She seemed to have been crying. But she doesn’t turn to look at me. Once she turned stunned towards me. But she just seems to go through me and keep my things in order. I felt lonely. Unwanted. Can anyone help me? Can anyone tell me what’s the problem? I don’t understand my parents’ indifference. No one listens to me. But only thing I remember is Friday the Thirteenth that fateful day.