The Spark of Writing

Some are just stories; some are much more than that.... “Mere pyare deshvasion…” I woke up from sleep, startled to hear a familiar voice. “Modiji ageya?” I whispered into Christy’s ears. With a smug face, she pointed at the speaker who stood in front of the class. “What’s happening? What is he saying now?” “How would I know?!” “Ok. Can I go back to sleep again?” “No.” “Why?” “Since I can’t sleep, you shouldn’t either.” “Hey! What a stupid logic yaar!” And that was when I realised the whole class was looking at me, as if I was caught stealing something. I didn’t get the point of them staring at me like that. So I took all the courage to meet the eyes of the equally perplexed face of the speaker. “Sir, do you realise that half the class doesn’t understand a thing and is sitting here like dumb and nodding for no reason?” There was dead silence all over and even the lecturer looked amazed at what I said just now. “Yes, sir.” Finally, one of the fellow non-Hindi lads spoke