Friends Forever - A Fictional Story on Earthquake
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It was Monday, and the city school started as usual. Mrs. Rose Marie entered the class. She was a middle-aged lady, who taught children in grades five through eight. His teaching was very unique. She explained each lesson with some live examples. The students enjoyed their classes and looked forward to that.
"Good morning, Mom," the children greeted in chorus.
"Good morning, everyone," Rose greeted them.
"So how was your weekend?" Rose asked her students.
The children were enthusiastic about their responses and each narrated their own stories of spending time with the family, some went for a bike ride around the city, some enjoyed gardening with their parents. Rose listened patiently. The interest she showed in the children made her his favorite teacher.
She was about to teach "The Epic of Gilgamesh", a Babylonian poem that is among the first literary works known in history. He narrated the friendship between Gilgamesh and Enkidu.
When a student finished reciting a quarter of the poem, she began to explain the general idea that the poet wanted to convey to the world through his poem. Before he could finish, he saw in the corner of the class, there was a raised hand.
"Yes, Rivesh, may I know your inquiry?" Rose asked.
"Forgive me, Mom, if you feel like I'm wrong, I just wanted to ask you that you really feel that there is a true friendship, have you ever seen an endless bond between friends?"
Rose was surprised by the question. It meant that he had to tell a story, which he had buried in his heart long ago.
After stopping for a moment, he said, "Yes, I have.
"Please tell us." The students requested it.
So Rose began to speak in a soft voice. She stared out the window for a minute before she could meet the eager eyes of her pupils.
She said, "Children this is a true story, which I myself have seen in my life."
She started:
I was teaching in the small city of Bolivia, in South America. At that time I was teaching students Standard three to five. They were very young and fresh, like all of you. The students who arrived at the school were from families belonging to the average income group.
One day, a family moved to the city. They seemed very rich. They had a son about seven years old. He was very rude and impolite. His parents moved here for professional reasons. Both were doctors in the famous hospital of the city. So John moved with them here and was admitted to school, where I taught.
The first day he came, he smashed one of the classroom window panes. He fought with other children, tore his shirts, pushed some, and broke his belongings. This lasted a week. The teachers thought it would improve over time. After each prank, they told him not to do it, but there was no effect, no change in their misdeeds.
Later we thought to call their parents, but they seemed so busy, that they did not pay attention to our request.
This made me feel that because of the lack of parental care, it grew this way. I thought about trying a new technique, to help John. I made him sit down next to the best guy in the class. Martin was not only good at studying but also at everything he did. At the same time he was extremely polite and modest.
The first day John and Martin sat down together, John ate all of Martin's lunch in his box. Often used to and enjoyed when the other person got angry or started to cry. But he was surprised when Martin just smiled and said, "I can have yours, I'm hungry." John was so fascinated by his response and pleasant plea that he opened his box and handed it to her.
The next day, John tore one of the pages of Martin's book, and was sure that Martin would now scream or start a fight with him. But again he was taken by surprise when Martin went to the teacher to ask for tape to join the page. He did not say a single word to John.
John was impatient with Martin's peaceful nature and tried every possible technique to annoy him. Every day he would spoil something or the other that belonged to Martin, but Martin would have silently restored everything to its former form.
After a month, John left his bad deeds and asked Martin: "Where do you get so much patience? Why do not you fight me?"
Martin smiled and then turned to John, said, "I do not fight my friends, why I would hurt someone unnecessarily, when I know I can repair the particular article or when there is some other solution to that problem."
"You know something, John," Martin continued. "My mom says if you hurt someone's feeling, it hurts again at a double rate." Martin's words worked wonders on John; He sat staring at Martin in silence. "It's my turn to ask a question, tell me, John, why are you spinning around and spoiling others' things ... Instead of making friends, you make them enemies, what drives you to do all this? "
The question had penetrated directly into John's heart. For the first time there were small tears in her eyes. He held his head in shame and buried it in his hands. Then, in a low, choked voice, she said, "My parents never paid attention to me, they never greeted me in the morning or at night, my governess was always there for me, but I wanted to be with my parents. Once I broke a very expensive statue in our house, that day I saw my father in front of me, he would scold me, but at least he was close to me. Another day I hooked up the television. That day my mother slapped me, but at least she touched me. I thought that if I do something wrong, I would have the time to be with my parents. This began and I felt that if attention is to spoil things, it would be better Do that. You have no idea Martin, how you feel unwanted. Tears began to roll down her soft cheeks.
Martin felt very sad. He felt that it was his question that made him cry.
"Oh John, I'm so sorry, I really did not mean to hurt you."
"Okay John, will you promise me something?" Martin asked excitedly.
"What?" Juan answered from under his hands.
"If I am with you, throughout your life, in good times and bad and if I promise to pay you all attention, regardless of whether you need me or not, would you stop being naughty? I can assure you that I will always be there for you." Martin said squeezing John tightly.
"Yes, I'm going to stop all the naughty things I do." He smiled crookedly. She rubbed her tears and hugged Martin.
The next day, to everyone's amazement, John walked in front of the class and apologized for his bad deeds and promised that he would prove to be a very good friend. He came to me, to thank me for making him sit next to Martin. I was more than happy to see a John changed and well mannered.
Years passed. Their friendship grew stronger and stronger. Martin helped him study sports, and in all, John needed his help. He kept His promise. First he would study and then explain to John, so he did well in his studies. With Martins encouragement and motivation, John came to the school basketball team. Both represented their school in basketball competitions between schools.
Days passed and I was happy to see his love growing. Martin was very protective of John. It would protect him from anything that would pose a threat to John. But somehow, deep down in my heart I felt that John is not as disinterested as Martin. He still has a slight sense of envy or jealousy deeply rooted in him, although by his refined behavior, it was difficult to understand. It was winter. The day was June 9, 1994. In the morning we felt a small tremor as if our bed was shaking and our utensils were squeaking. No one paid attention. In the morning 8:00 AM, the school started as usual. At 10:00 AM the school building began to vibrate very violently. It was an earthquake of greater magnitude. We somehow announce the children to leave their classrooms. The pleasant atmosphere of the school turned into total chaos. We started pulling junior classes first as older students would be able to handle themselves.
The earthquake was pounding from time to time. After making the most of the students at the school, some of us ran around the building to make sure no one else was left in the school building. When I reached the third floor, I saw Juan lying on his chest, holding himself with the help of the pillar and stretching his hand as if trying to get someone out. To my surprise, it was Martin who was hanging. The flank had broken because of the great magnitude of the earthquake and slid through it. I also joined John to pull Martin.
Martin shouted, "I will not, you two save your lives.
I said, "I am your teacher, I can not let you die before my eyes."
Juan was already sobbing. With his broken voice he said: "If today I leave the hand, I will not be able to survive for the rest of my life.You were the one who taught me the human emotions, to love and to be loved.For me in every moment of my life, Or joy, so why do you expect me to run away leaving you in such a situation, and you promised me that you would be with me throughout my life? Your promise, my friend.
My heart melted listening to their conversation. What he thought of John was totally wrong. Both John and I were able to raise Martin slightly, at least Martin was able to hold an iron rod for his support. They were both adults, and for John and me it was not possible to get another adult boy like Martin. I asked John to hold Martin's hand tight and ask Martin to take the support of the iron rod, and in the meantime he would call more people for help. I ran down the steps, met some teachers for help. We were on our way and only got to the other end of the third floor, from where we could see John lying on the floor. With rapid and abrupt steps we approached them, when the earthquake had struck again. Somehow, we trap the windows and classroom doors to maintain balance. Before we could get to our feet, we no longer saw John on the floor. When he looked over the wall of the hall, we saw that both had fallen to the ground. Their heads lay in a pool of blood. But his hands were joined together. They kept their promise; They were not left until the end.
The director and we the teachers took them to the hospital, but the doctors said they had already breathed their last hours, it may be when they hit the hard floor when falling from above.
Rose finished the story. There were tears at the corner of his eyes, as if he had seen the accident again. Without another word, he left the classroom.
Source/Credits:
Aditi Das Bhowmik
https://www.bookrix.com/-aditidasbhowmik
Interesting story, was fun to read
Upvoted and resteemed