Page 221 - Musings 2020

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Phasing Dreams

Jai Vashishtha 2017B5AB0664

Fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh…
The blades of the fan were the only sound in the stagnant afternoon classroom. The teacher
was writing something on the board, all the way at the front. The faces of the students were
dripping with stupor.

No one wanted to be here. But, the rigid confines of society restrict the imagination of the
dreamers to a box. No one thinks outside the box. If they manage to think outside one, they’ll
just restrict themselves with a bigger box. The human mind doesn’t have limits, but we
choose to impose them on ourselves. The potential of the human mind is limi…

Oh, I’m so sorry for digressing.

Hello. I’m Raghav and I’m also one of the aforementioned trapped souls. School is such a
bore. But the bore also allows me to have such deep thoughts. I love the fact that I’m able to
do so. Most other 17-year olds probably don’t even have the emotional range that I do.

You might be wondering how I ended up here. Well, it isn’t a particularly exciting story.

It was about 4 months ago, in this very classroom. Ms. Pooja insisted that I stay back,
because for some reason she felt my chemistry was weak. I don’t see why she felt that. I
wasn’t particularly bright, but I managed to do well enough to maintain my self-respect.
Nonetheless, I went along and sat through the remedial class. The odd circumstances should
have thrown me off well beforehand, but I guess I just never gave it a second thought that
day.

After she wrapped up the class and I was packing my bag, I felt her grip me around my waist.
It took me a second to register what was happening but before I could do anything, she had
already clutched me hard. I was powerless and taken aback. I lost all control of myself over
the next few minutes.

She did horrifying things to me that day.

Now that I think about it, it all seems so far away, almost as if a dream. As if the body wasn’t
even mine. As If I had lost the ability to feel.

But, that’s not the worst of it all. Turns out, Ms. Pooja had a history of doing these things. I
was just another in a long line of victims she had marked. The problem was that the other
boys knew about her… tendencies. Someone recorded it all, and by the time I walked into
class the next morning, the damage had been done.

Obscenities were scattered all over my desk. The other boys snickered and teased. They
poked me and caressed me in all sorts of places. At one point, I guess it was just too much for

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