Carrot_Sketchbooks

It was a sunny morning when Yash got lost during one of the trails in the national park. His curiosity of botany blurred others voices in the background as he carefully observed the Ixora petals. As he found himself standing on the grass without any traces of the trail, he pretended to be Cameron Strike for a minute (his recent reading of J.K.rowling’s crime novels) but dropped it knowing that it would lead him nowhere. In between the silence of the forest and the chaos of his situation, Yash turned around and there he was, Sail. Sail was laying on the ground sideways with one hand supporting his lifted head posing like one of the broadway magazines, with the look on his face saying ‘I knew you will find trouble’. Sail was five years older than Yash, had a bold head with maybe few hair strands striking out in the sunlight. He was leaner and much more mature than his troubled friend. He simply pointed his bony finger towards Yash’s pocket, suggesting him to use his cellphone as well as his brain. 

Yash still vaguely remembers the day he met Sail. It was a chilly January morning, usually when the city of Mumbai is touched by the breeze of the winter. His then best friend Sachin was sitting beside him trying to eat the small cookies his mother gave him for lunch. Hiding behind the student and making a very serious face, Sachin was putting a whole cookie in his mouth as Suresh sir would turn to write the answers of additional values on the board. Yash remembers being angry at Sachin for disturbing him by his rapid movements and mainly for not getting offered a cookie. Somehow they came to the conclusion that he will get a chance to complain about Sachin’s behaviour after class. Between the shifts of two teachers, they both slipped from the middle rows to the back side of the classroom. Sachine reached for his packets and removed a pencil, chiseled at top. He swiftly drew a person with simple geometry, a circle for head and lines for limbs, finally he added three small hairs on his head and told yash that this is his big brother Sahil, who is in 8th grade and can be dangerous when angry. Yash simply told the complaint to this wall figure of Sahil and as the history teacher banged the table with duster, Sachin erased the stick figure with his sweaty hand and both the boys were back at their seats. 

For the next half hour Yash sat there looking at the scribbled black board wondering how the complaint was easy without any hesitation and anticipations of anger. How there are so many stories he can tell without getting shouted at. He wondered of the things they can do together, maybe they can explore the dark back garden of the society clubhouse or make the birdhouse his cousin taught. That history period was filled with ifs and maybes rather than emperors of east india.