Fifty Five faces of joy

There is not much light streaming in through the dilapidated window as it has been stacked high with cartons on the outside. I am afraid if I touch it the panes may drop. The walls have not seen paint in a long time , the black-board is a poor excuse and the solitary duster is extremely popular as it does the rounds of all the class rooms.

The entrance to the school is low and narrow, the whole place resembling a cow-shed built of cement. The floor is uneven, classrooms cluttered around each other, doors opening in various directions. Drawings of children have been hung high up on the dirty walls haphazardly - someone must have climbed up a ladder with a hammer and nail, the trouble ensuring the picture remains there for some time.

All my thoughts go for a toss as I meet the 55 faces looking at me, anticipation, excitement gleaming in their eyes, I cannot take my eyes off them. They wear no shoes and carry no fancy bags, many of them have little stumps for pencils and their uniforms are soiled. The girls have their hair oiled and tucked up tightly in plaits adorned with white ribbons . They were all looking at me , expectantly. I smiled and the cat jumped out of the box ! what a melodious din it was, all of them talking at the same time. What incessant flow of energy, charging up my slumbering, rusting being. I was running back into my childhood at full pace. Their joy and their excitement spreading through my veins making me come alive once again. I came home feeling like a celebrity, they wanted to touch me, shake hands with me and even share their tiffin with me. My dear ones wont be hearing the end of this for a long long time.

Who needs to be a star to get adulation, not me !

Whether I make a difference or not in their lives, they have already begun to make in mine.

God bless my little angels.