Writing 101: Serially Found
On day four, you wrote a post about losing something. Today, write about finding something.
Tell us about the time you retrieved your favorite t-shirt from your ex. Or when you accidentally stumbled upon your fifth-grade journal in your parents’ attic. Or how about the moment you found out the truth about a person whose history or real nature you thought you’d figured out. Interpret this theme of “finding something” however you see fit.
Today’s twist: if you wrote day four’s post as the first in a series, use this one as the second installment — loosely defined.
Almost all the girls of my class were having lunch together. I had almost broken away with that group of friends. Earlier, I was the best friend of who I believed was the leader of those cliques.
Suddenly, one of the girls sitting on the bench behind me noticed an open English notebook. The pages had turned due to the fan being right above it and the page that had opened up had my handwriting. She, at once, recognized my handwriting and questioned me as to what my notebook was doing on somebody else’s desk. I went there to see and realized that it was the notebook I had lost. I checked the name slip on the notebook and found out that the name written on it was of a girl one amongst that clique. I removed her name slip to find my name below it. At the spur of the moment, I went through the cloister to the staff room to complain about her to my class teacher cum English teacher. The teacher had been a close acquaintance to her and didn’t scold her which angered me. Instead, the teacher asked me to give my notebook to that girl given that I had already made a new notebook and she didn’t have hers and the exams were again nearby.
Furious at the teacher’s response, I came back to the class and soon discovered that my other notebook had also been stolen by her. Again, I went through the walkway to the staffroom to my moral education teacher. Even she refused to do anything at that moment and deferred any action on her part to the period after the lunch time.
After the lunch break got over, the moral education teacher came to the class and took up the matter in front of the entire class. She scolded her in front of the entire class. I liked the ignominy faced by that girl, if any, for two reasons. One, she stole my two notebooks and my class teacher didn’t say anything to her. Two, she was a part of those cliques with whom I had broken apart. I was only 10 then.
That day I came back happily and told my mother about the entire day’s incidents. Finally, I had found both my notebooks.