Arun

 It was a bright sunny noon . Spring  was in the air and  the petunias and pansies lining the school office were in full bloom .

The school was u shaped and a central ground was lined by concrete flower beds . The orange and yellow marigolds gave out heavenly aroma. 

It was a pretty and a good school . There were nuns and monks , sisters and fathers who would conduct classes and pray in the chapel in the spare time. 

A huge church complete with its spire and a glass enclosed statue of Virgin Mary and baby Jesus towered on the western side . Enormous wrought iron gates guarded the church , with the legend Jesus loves you etched onto the top , in wrought iron letters , with flat leaves and pressed flowers , in iron . 

It was impressive and intimidating for the newcomers . For the students it was a heaven .

Arun was a scrawny little fellow with lot of spunk in him . He became the class legend when he ran headlong into the forest that lined the  eastern side of the school and emerged in the evening, unscathed . He says he was escaping the day's maths test . He kept sitting on a high branch of a mango tree, fully concealed in the foliage , while the rescuers shouted his name , crying themselves hoarse the whole day long . Several search parties forayed into the forest throughout the day, with no success . 

His crying mom , slumped on the floor infront of the principal's office , beating her chest and occasionally fainting. None of this moved Arun to climb down from his perch. 

He emerged only in the evening , smiling , with only mild greenish scratches on his white shirt . Grinning from ear to ear . 

This happened in the 70s when corporal punishment was very much in vogue . Needless to say , he was caned in full public view by mother superior. We didn't count but the welts took a long time to heal .

For a long time, Arun would limp afterwards. 

A collosal wall came up on the eastern side of the school , separating the forest from us . A gate was built and it was padlocked. No one could go to the forest any more.

Another incident happened an year later. In 1978, to be precise. When Arun was in class 5 .  

He ran away . Actually. Sick and tired of being jeered and bullied in school and at home, he boarded a train from the end of the town station and disappeared . No one knew where he had gone . His mom gave up eating and became an emaciated wreck .

After two weeks, Arun landed back and came straight to school. God knows what prompted him to do that . 

A huge crowd collected outside . To welcome him . Everyone loves a rebel.

" Where were you Arun ? " 

" Goodness ! Look at him , he looks happy!" People were surprised at his good health , his clean clothes and new shoes .

Arun just stood in the middle of the hub bub , enjoying all the attention . Not saying anything. Just grinning his trademark grin . 

Someone went and told mother superior , she came rushing out of the principal's office, grabbed him by his arm and led him inside. 

The crowd followed him like a sea of ants . They were however, all shooed away by the watchman bhaiya . The doors were shut . 

Once the classes started and kids went back , very reluctantly to their classrooms, Arun was taken in father's Jeep to the police station , where a missing persons FIR had been filed by his parents . His parents too came rushing to the police station. 

It was quite a moving scene with the mother crying and kissing Arun and father not knowing if he should hug or slap Arun . 

Exactly , four years later , after written guarantees had been given to Father John , the then principal, Arun committed  another and final misdemeanor of his school life .

On this spring day , all were jumping around and playing with marigold flowers as the shuttle cocks and torn notebook cardboard covers as  badminton rackets . By the end of the recess , all would be covered in orange splotches and fragrance. 

Arun was older now, and none the more wiser . In fact , he was more aggressive now. He had just entered puberty , and had begun sprouting facial hair. He was swarthy and towered over his classmates . He was fearsome .  He was in class 8 , and at the threshold of entering the adult world . In Arun's case , the criminal world .

There was a disagreement in progress at the fag end of the class . A boy named Vishnu was given to needlessly needling  Arun at every given opportunity. While others gave Arun a cautious wide berth , Vishnu took it upon himself to taunt him at every given moment. Needless to say, he was living dangerously.

One moment , the pubescent voices rose in argument , next moment there was a flash of steel and Vishnu was found cowering on the classroom floor , the four inches of a compass needle stuck into his palm , through and through , a stream of thick dark red blood slowly snaking down his wrist .

After this , things moved very swiftly , after Vishnus haemorrhage was stopped , his parents were notified and he was sent to the hospital in an ambulance. Arun's parents were called, a closed door meeting was called in the principal's office, and he was rusticated. His school life ended then and there . 

As he emerged from the church gates ,head hanging , with his his father  by his side,  into the marigold scented afternoon , the forest whispered and he looked back, one last time.

"Jesus loves you" shone back in shiny trellis from the high wrought iron gates as they clanged  shut on him , forever.