Sweet little Chunmun did not look away from Khushi, her good friend who was celebrating her eighth birthday. Khushi looked pretty in her pink dress while she distributed toffees to her classmates.
Mitali asked Chunmun, “I have not seen you celebrating your birthday. Any particular reason why?”
Chumun said, “My birthday falls on January 4, and usually, the school remains closed because of the winter vacations.”
“But you can always distribute toffees once school reopens after winter vacations,” Mitali retorted.
“Of course, but my mother sees no reason in celebrating my birthday 15 days later,” Chunmun dropped her head.
The plan
All the way back home, little Chunmun could only think of Khushi’s pink dress and how everyone greeted her when she distributed toffees. The moment her mom opened the door, she announced, “I have been asked by my class teacher to carry one kg of laddus tomorrow.”
“One kg laddus , but why?” her mom asked.
“ Laddu race, of course!” said Chunmun, sounding convincing.
“All right, but please ask your father when he returns from office,” her mom replied.
Her father had hardly settled on the sofa with his cup of tea when Chunmum repeated her demand of one kg of laddus for the laddu race at school.
“Don’t you think one or two should be enough? Why one kg?” Her father was curious.
“Oh dad, I am the house captain... and then there will be some spoilage as well during practice,” Chunmun was persuasive. Her father had to give in.
He took her to a sweetmeat shop and pointed towards the cheapest among the wide variety of laddus available for selection at the shop. But, Chunmum did not agree.
“I need those yellow motichoor laddus ... those in the right corner.”
“But why such premium laddus for a laddu race? After all, they are going to get wasted,” her father tried to reason with her.
“Dad, you don’t understand. The students will carry them on a spoon, and they are likely to gulp down one or two in the process. No, no, we must get the best ones,” little Chunmum was not ready to budge. Finally, after a lot of deliberation, they came back with one kg of laddus selected by Chunmun.
A week later, her parents went to Chunmun’s school for the parent-teacher meeting and met her class teacher.
“Chumnun never shared the results of her laddu race,” her mother said.
“ Laddu race...?” her teacher was puzzled. “And when did that take place?”
“But Chunmun told me a week ago... where is Chunmun?” Her mom was puzzled.
Chunmun came forward with some reluctance, but the palpable anger on her mom’s face pierced through her defence.
“Everyone in my class distributes toffees in class on his or her birthday except me. How many times have I told you that my classmates and teachers ask me when I will celebrate my birthday? So I decided to...” The incomplete remark created a silence in the room.
Finally, her father hugged her and said softly, “What about a lemon race next year?”
Giggles echoed around the room.
