The story belongs to the time when I was in my 3rd grade. I had a best friend then, he was called Ranjan. We struck great friendship in class 2 and though our sections had changed in the 3rd grade, we still remained the best of the buddies. Ranjan was the son of Acharya sir, one of the strictest teachers in the school, who taught us Hindi. Acharya sir didn't like the fact that Ranjan was friends to me - a below average student, and often contemptuously remarked in front of me to Ranjan to befriend the class topper Ankit and be around him, rather than me. Though it hurt my childish sensibility but it failed to affect our friendship, which grew stronger with time.
Ranjan's birthday was an important day in my life. It had been my endeavour to make sure that his birthday turned out to be very special, and from months before, I used to start preparing for it, thinking of the right gift which would spark up a brilliant smile on his face. My grandfather came home during that time and he brought me a big box of assorted Hajmola candies, around 500 of them and I realized that those candies might be the perfect gift for my dear friend. The day before Ranjan's birthday, I packed 50 candies in a box of a moisturizer used by my mother, wrapped it in gift paper, wrote "Happy birthday to my best friend, - From your Best Friend" in my horrendous cursive handwriting. I engraved a thin-line on the top of box to enable Ranjan to later use the box as a gullak, a piggy bank, to collect coins. I had told Ranjan on the previous day that there is a birthday surprise waiting for him, which made him bubble with excitement.
The day arrived, I stealthily took out the gift packet from my bag during the lunch time and just when I was about to go to see Ranjan in the adjacent section, students around me having caught hold of me, shouted in unison, 'Saumya has got a gift,' and snatched the box away from me, ripping the wraps like monkeys. I screamed and yelled that it was not for them, but for Ranjan, my best friend, the birthday boy, Acharya Sir's son, but they didn't care. Hajmola candies commanded more respect than Acharya sir, apparently. I tearfully watched my gift being squandered in the hands of the wicked few. The class comprised of 40 students and each one of them stole one candy each, leaving behind 10 candies and a wretched moisturizer box behind, which I collected with my disappointed hands. I didn't know how to face Ranjan, who was waiting deliriously for my present in the other section.
Dejectedly, with those ten candies wrapped in a four-line ruled sheet pulled out from my English notebook, I plodded to the other section. Ranjan, upon seeing me, rushed forward with a hopeful smile. I handed over those ten candies cloaked in the paper with dismay, which he opened with utmost delight and upon seeing what was inside, all he could do was flash an ear to ear smile, a smile which I had never seen on his face, a smile that was full of amazement. I was too perplexed to say anything. He hugged me and said, 'You gave me the best gift of all - Hajmola candies, these are my favorite. I had never had somany of them together.'
Written for housing.com that asked me to write about my most memorable day. This is it!
Ranjan's birthday was an important day in my life. It had been my endeavour to make sure that his birthday turned out to be very special, and from months before, I used to start preparing for it, thinking of the right gift which would spark up a brilliant smile on his face. My grandfather came home during that time and he brought me a big box of assorted Hajmola candies, around 500 of them and I realized that those candies might be the perfect gift for my dear friend. The day before Ranjan's birthday, I packed 50 candies in a box of a moisturizer used by my mother, wrapped it in gift paper, wrote "Happy birthday to my best friend, - From your Best Friend" in my horrendous cursive handwriting. I engraved a thin-line on the top of box to enable Ranjan to later use the box as a gullak, a piggy bank, to collect coins. I had told Ranjan on the previous day that there is a birthday surprise waiting for him, which made him bubble with excitement.
The day arrived, I stealthily took out the gift packet from my bag during the lunch time and just when I was about to go to see Ranjan in the adjacent section, students around me having caught hold of me, shouted in unison, 'Saumya has got a gift,' and snatched the box away from me, ripping the wraps like monkeys. I screamed and yelled that it was not for them, but for Ranjan, my best friend, the birthday boy, Acharya Sir's son, but they didn't care. Hajmola candies commanded more respect than Acharya sir, apparently. I tearfully watched my gift being squandered in the hands of the wicked few. The class comprised of 40 students and each one of them stole one candy each, leaving behind 10 candies and a wretched moisturizer box behind, which I collected with my disappointed hands. I didn't know how to face Ranjan, who was waiting deliriously for my present in the other section.
Dejectedly, with those ten candies wrapped in a four-line ruled sheet pulled out from my English notebook, I plodded to the other section. Ranjan, upon seeing me, rushed forward with a hopeful smile. I handed over those ten candies cloaked in the paper with dismay, which he opened with utmost delight and upon seeing what was inside, all he could do was flash an ear to ear smile, a smile which I had never seen on his face, a smile that was full of amazement. I was too perplexed to say anything. He hugged me and said, 'You gave me the best gift of all - Hajmola candies, these are my favorite. I had never had somany of them together.'
Written for housing.com that asked me to write about my most memorable day. This is it!
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