Karin University 2023
Josh, our English teacher, said, "So, I gave you homework to write a story about your childhood."
Jassy, the class bully, chimed in, "But sir, we don't know about your childhood!"
"Not mine, your childhood, idiot," Josh retorted, rolling his eyes.
Najeem, the only Muslim in the class, added, "But Josh, sir, our parents are the ones who know about our childhood!"
"Ahhh! The whole class is full of idiots. Ritik, Stacy, Pulvoy—why don't you guys tell the class what you've written?"
We three stood up, ready to share our stories, but Ram, the class monitor who never liked us, interjected, "Leave it, sir. I think their childhood was boring."
Our anger peaked. It was infuriating to hear someone who didn't know anything about us dismiss our experiences.
"Alright, you three sit down and let Ram tell his story," Josh said, waving us off.
We ignored him and let Ram take the floor.
Ram stepped in front of the class and began recounting his story, but the whole class erupted in laughter. Even Josh couldn't contain himself after hearing the worst childhood story imaginable.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Josh said, sending Ram back to his seat. "Now it's your turn, trio."
We walked to the front of the class, feeling the murmurs ripple through the room: "Do you know these three are orphans?" "Yeah, we know." "How good it would be to be alone." "Yeah, our parents always scold us."
Puli, unable to hold back, picked on one of the murmurers by the collar. "You scum! Our childhood was not good at all!"
"Oi, Puli, stop! Sir is in the class!" Stacy and I quickly intervened.
Taking a deep breath to calm ourselves, we began recounting our story.
"So, when we were three years old, our parents died and left us with Nancy, their friend, who took care of us from the start. She is such a sweet woman; she never made us feel like a burden and never let us feel that we didn't have parents. In 2017, when we were 12, we were looking through a photo album and saw a strange boy with Nancy in one of the pictures. We asked her, 'Who is he?' She replied, 'He is Tony.'
"We had no idea who this Tony was, so we pressed on. 'Who is Tony?' She explained, 'Back when I didn't start taking care of you three—16 years before I met you—I adopted a baby boy because I wanted to raise a child. I cared for him for 12 years, and then one day, someone kidnapped him. I did everything I could to find him, but I was unable to do so. Even the police said they couldn't find him. From that day, I never saw him again. I named that boy Tony.'"
As we shared our story, we emphasized how sweet Nancy was, filled with love, regret, and strength. "Well, that is the story of our mother and our hero. We hope you liked it."
By the end, the entire class was emotional, rising to their feet to clap for us as we returned to our seats.
2024
Puli suddenly cut in, "Oi Ritik, what are you telling me? Why are you going so far back in time? I told you to tell me what happened in the last four months!"
"Oh yeah! Sorry, I got distracted and went off on a tangent."
Stacy chuckled, "Leave it to me, Ritik. I'll tell him. So, four months ago, when we went to meet the fat aunt…"