She sat there, outside her classroom on a Monday morning. It was the first period and she realized that she had homework to complete. She tried her best to write it as quickly as possible but the teacher noticed. The class leader was already collecting books and she was in the second row. There was nothing she could have done. Everyone had started passing their books from the side of the row, she just had to close her book and put in with the rest. The teacher asked if everyone had done their homework and those who hadn't been ordered to get to the front of the class. She hated the whole idea of school forever and this was one of the reasons. She dragged herself to the front of the class. Lying wasn't an option. The teacher would find out anyway. There were always the common ones and she was one of them. The teacher dragged her by her ear and slapped her back. Her shoes could have been a lot cleaner. She just didn't remember them after tossing them out on Saturday afternoon. The weekend had passed too soon. She along with the rest went outside the class. But it was English class. There would be good stories told. What a terrible thing to miss out on. The teacher announced that the bad girls, the ones who hadn't done their homework, would need to kneel down in front of the class, looking towards the wall. Oh that was fantastic she thought. She could be in class and listen to the story. Miss always read out the stories so well and had something more interesting to add into it. She quickly got in position and the rest were grumbling about the punishment. The teacher, screaming at her, remarked; “There she goes. First one to take the punishment! Absolutely no regrets! Again she'll come tomorrow with either no book or no homework and forever will have excuses." The rest got worried about themselves and knelt down as demanded.

The teacher was all about the instructions to open the book, to be silent, to sit down and all that. She simply couldn't wait for the story to start. From kneeling down she sat down as it was taking too long. Suddenly, she felt a tight knock on her head. Her teacher reminded her to kneel down and not sit down comfortably. She wondered what comfort meant to Miss but either way sighed and knelt back again. Being a student of a convent school, back answering or throwing a tantrum was out of scope. And this was in the early 80's! The teacher, again addressing the entire class and screamed out, "Look at that attitude. No homework and no manners either! All of you go back to your places and if I ever find you girls without your books or homework I'll take you to the principal's office. Only this time, I’m letting you go but get your parent's signature and come tomorrow!"

She, the little bad girl was so annoyed as the story would take longer to start. Everyone would have to go back to their places and it was already half way into the 45-minute class. Next was the games period and it was just way too sunny for her liking. Her mom was the fairest among them all. And when the little bad girl was born she was all fair and cute, but school and the sun had made her dark and dry which equated to dirty and ugly for her mom! They all dragged their feet back to their places and by then she too had started to believe that the story wouldn't be narrated. She had no book, so she sat with her face resting on her palms, looking towards her teacher with big wide eyes, a head full of messy hair, a hairband that held together nothing at all and a grin of enthusiasm. Eighty students in the class, but she wondered how she got caught each time! "Now look at our heroine. She's posing with her face in her palms as if she is tired of not doing her homework!!!" She quickly sat up and didn't know what to do with her hands. Folded them! Maybe that would be a good place. "Abbahhhh! What attitude this girl has.” She never understood that ‘Abaahh’ was an exclamation of something not good. She loved the way her teacher said it. It simply sounded so dramatic and fancy. It was Mangalore; she was a Bengali and had spent most of her life in Nigeria. She smiled and repeated it softly, “Abaaah” like how she would sometimes call her Baba, ‘Abaaah… Babaaah.. Baha bahabababaahh’ and sing her own song. But the teacher was in no mood for all that. She continued, “You should have stayed outside the class. God only knows what you will do in life."

Her partner nudged her to apologize.

She stood up, “Sorry Miss”.

“Sit now!”

The story was about Akbar and Birbal. Birbal was called to solve a problem as usual and she knew most of the stories because her dad was a fabulous storyteller. He either made them up or actually knew them too well. Either way, she always rested her face in her palms and admired that heavenly man when he spoke. This story was what she thought she knew but she needed Miss to start it out a little more!

The problem was that one was a liar and the other wasn't. The court needed to know who was to be blamed for wasting the majesty's time! Two traders were friends and one had borrowed a hundred gold coins from the other. He had promised to return it soon, within a week or so. But after a couple months, when the dear friend had started avoiding the good friend, he got a little suspicious. He was beginning to think that he wasn't going to get the lent coins back. When he tried meeting him at home, someone else would open the door and said he wasn't there. If he tried meeting him in common places, the bad friend would rush off without acknowledging him. This went on till the good guy went to his shop in the marketplace. He didn’t want to do it but, he needed his coins back! Everyone else was present and it was a busy day. The good man approached him and knowing that he couldn't escape, politely requested him for the coins. On hearing that, the bad guy said he had no idea what the conversation was all about. He had never taken any coins from him he said. He even went on to say that the lender friend was a cheat and was making up stories to defame him in public. He accused him of being a terrible friend!

She knew this story. She murmured that Birbal found who the liar was using another gold coin. The teacher heard her. She didn't have her book so how did she know the answer already?! Miss asked her to stand up and she kicked herself for talking again!

She quickly said, “Sorry Miss”. Maybe this time around, the parents were going to be called and she would be sent to the principal's office!!!

Miss asked her to narrate the rest of the story.

She smiled because she loved stories and said, "Miss, Badshah Akbar was already looking angry. He didn't like it that people in his kingdom were being bad just because of some gold coins. He thought his people were a lot nicer than that. When a good friend lends money, he should not have to go through that kind of harassment. He had asked Birbal to solve this issue. Birbal said that one of the two was lying and he needed some time to know who. On that day the court was adjoined. Birbal went back to his office and asked his PA to go to both the merchants pretending to be a seller of his merchandise. He also requested his PA to hide a gold coin in them. Birbal said that an honest person would return the coin sensing that it was there in error. And that's exactly what happened too. The good guy, the lender, returned the single gold coin to the seller not knowing that he was Birbal's PA. But the other man, the bad man stayed put. He kept the coin and didn't mention a thing. Someone who is dishonest can't help but keep doing bad things.

Everyone clapped. They all loved her. Just didn’t know why she was so casual about school. How did she not get bogged down with homework, exams and the rest of all the things that bothered everyone else?

The teacher smiled at her and said. "You are such a smart girl and such a lovely storyteller. Why do you not focus and do well?"

She had no idea what Miss was talking about. She thought she was the best!

The bell rang and life went on. She had to come up with a way to be dishonest, come up with a lie about a terrible tummy pain to avoid PT and be a tragedy heroine for the next 45 minutes.

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