As a kid, I was full of vim and vigor. I used
to walk in this sprightly gait and my face always dazzled with some kind of
mischief, so typical of kids. People used to see me as a weak child;
nevertheless, I took no second thoughts ever to play the biggest of pranks to
the most unsuspecting folklore. As I suffered with affliction of symptomatic
polio, my formal education started quite late. I attended my first class when I
was 6 years old; by that time most of my colony kids had known how to make
genuine excuses for not doing their homework. Though my formal education took a
toll by years, I didn’t really suffer much as my mother used to teach me at
home.
By the time I stepped in my first class, I
was familiar with every bit of academic knowledge that my classmates possessed.
To my utter disappointment, I was allotted the front seat in my class. No
ready-witted kid would ever want that sort of attention from the teachers and I
was no exception. When I returned home the first day from my school, I popped
up the question to my mother about the biased sitting arrangement. Her explanation
was something I was least expecting; she said I deserved that front seat
because of my weak physical state and brawny mental state. The journey of the
world had just begun and I was started being judged.
Being a neophyte in this scholarly world doesn’t
help you ad infinitum; you got to learn the rules fast or you run the danger of
being labeled as a loser. The world for me had just started its ride, and with
each passing day, I loved the company of my classmates and my neighborhood
friends as there is no tomorrow.
