Aprajita: A Story of Transformation
Discover the transformative power of karma in “Aprajita,” a tale of resilience and retribution. As a new sixth grader, Aprajita endures bullying from her classmates. However, when one of her bullies experience the consequences of their actions, they’re forced to confront their own behavior. Through these trials, both Aprajita and her peers learn valuable lessons about empathy, accountability, and the potential for change.
In the halls of an English medium convent school, discipline reigned supreme, shaping every aspect of student behaviour and academic performance. The corridors echoed with the footsteps of children, each bubbling with fresh ideas yet moving in an orderly procession. Every student is expected to adhere to the mandatory requirement of wearing clean and neatly ironed uniforms while strictly communicating only in English. The day begins with the morning assembly, featuring prayer songs performed by the school choir, class assemblies, and various other activities, before transitioning into consecutive classes. Most parents aspire for their children to enroll in these schools, valuing the promise of top-notch education and early cultivation of exemplary behaviour and grooming.
Savouring a hot cup of coffee, Tathagata turns to his wife, Riya, and questions, “Do you believe that these schools genuinely foster good behaviour, or make their stringent regulations sometimes breed entitlement and arrogance? "As they reminisce about their schooling, Tathagata opens up about his own experience. Educated in a government Bengali medium school, he vividly recalls the diverse circumstances of his classmates, many of whom couldn’t afford new shoes and often attended school in slippers or bare feet. Reflecting on his journey, he proudly declares, “Yet, here I am, eight years into my career as a journalist. I’ve not only mastered English but also built my own path, all while staying true to my roots.” As Riya quietly absorbs her husband’s words, memories of her own school days flood back. Educated in a prestigious English medium convent school, she now contemplates the cliques that often dominated the classroom, the instances where bullying crossed boundaries, and the transient feeling of constantly changing schools due to her father’s career moves.
After finishing her coffee, Riya turns to her husband and asks, “Would you like to hear a story about a girl named Aprajita?”
Back in my sixth grade, during mid-term, a new girl joined our class. Her name was Aprajita. She stood out with her fair complexion and striking beauty. Her hair was cut short, and she wore a skirt that was notably longer than what the other students typically wore. Our class teacher, Mr. Santiago, introduced her to the class, and she took a seat in the row adjacent to mine. The entire class couldn’t help but stare at her, and some even made jokes, likening her to a saint because of her demure appearance.
As the bell rang for the tiffin break, everyone started gathering in groups, but no one approached the new girl, Aprajita. Even though some girls wanted to befriend her, they were told not to.
Tathagata, curious, stopped Riya and asked, “Who stopped them?” Riya sighed deeply, a heavy sense of guilt in her expression. “It was me,” she admitted. “It was me and a few other girls in my group. We were quite popular. I had always been the class monitor since first grade. The teachers adored me. I was part of the school choir and the basketball team and participated in all the elocution and storytelling contests. I was also in the Western dance group. Other girls envied us, but they also followed whatever we dictated because they didn’t want to ruin their relationship with us. Looking back, I can’t believe we were in sixth grade — just kids. Where did all that pride come from at such a young age?”
Riya stood up and said, “I’m going to get some more coffee. Do you want some, too?”
Riya returned with more coffee. “So, do you want me to continue with the story about how I used to be one of the mean girls?” she asked.
Interrupting her again, he said, “Yes, I do. When did you realize what you did was wrong?”
“Not too long after,” replied Riya, “but it was still too late to apologize properly. I remember her sitting quietly in the corner of the class, too shy to talk to anyone, eating her tiffin all alone while we laughed at her.”
“But I got the punishment I deserved,” Riya continued. “Not long after, my family had to move to a new city in West Bengal, and I had to leave my school. Starting fresh at a new school, I encountered students who were incredibly mean. On my first day, they bombarded me with questions about my grades just to gauge what position I might hold. The girl who sat next to me refused to share her notes while the teacher dictated, leaving me struggling to keep up. Tiffin breaks were another ordeal; no matter how hard I tried, no one included me in their groups. They would leave me behind in the restroom and go off to eat their tiffin together while I felt utterly isolated. At this new school, students weren’t allowed to eat in the classroom, so I couldn’t even find solace in my loneliness there. An entire week passed by in this new school, and nothing changed. I still felt utterly isolated. All I remember now is standing alone in the middle of the assembly ground, tears streaming down my thick, fair cheeks, and the only thing I could think of was how cruel I had been to Aprajita.”
It took me more than two years to make the right kind of friends in that new school. I eventually joined the basketball team and the school choir, but I was never too proud to flaunt it. From that point on, I made a conscious effort never to laugh at or bully anyone for being new, different, or not fitting in. Because, in reality, we are often the ones who prevent others from fitting in, and then we complain when they don’t.
Tathagata turned towards Riya. “So, did you ever get a chance to reach out to her?”
“No,” Riya replied, shaking her head. “I never had the opportunity. We didn’t have mobile phones back then, and we rarely called anyone. I think about that incident a lot, and I’ve shared the story with the people I train now. I always tell them that whatever you do comes back to you, so it’s important to do good and be kind to others, no matter what.”
Tathagata nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe you should write about this as a story. That way, you might reach not just her but millions of others who can learn from your experience.”
“Good idea,” Riya said, smiling. “I’ll think about it.”
Months later, after much contemplation and effort, Riya sat down to edit the final paragraph of her story. She thought to herself, if only Aprajita could read this, she would know how deeply I regret my actions and how much I’ve changed. As she typed the last few words, she felt a sense of closure, hoping that through her story, she could make amends and inspire others to choose kindness over cruelty.
