Pt1 of 2.
Miss Swami Narayan, a woman who was 68 years young, was finally at the crux of mastering the art of doing absolutely nothing. One could only have so many board meeting before falling into an endless loop of noting. So here she was, on a Tuesday morning, chewing onto the butt of her pen, waiting for inspiration to hit her.
The couch looks inviting. If only I could sleep. She didn’t even consider this to be an option. If she were to take a nap, maybe some kid in class Vc, possibly with the name Siddhart, would probably throw a pen at his arch nemesis and cause the entire class to erupt into a pen fight while she would be snoring away with the teachers banging at the door. That is what being a principal for an entire year had done to her: it gave her an overactive imagination with far too much time to engage in this imagination.
She tapped her fingers, she did an impersonation of her playing the banjo and she also wrote a letter addressed to the acting principal of the school. She hated the acting principal, she used to see her as the daughter she never had when she was teaching, but now that she was after her job, she was afraid that she’d send assassins armed with knives after her. Not guns, somehow, that seemed too morbid for her taste.
She heard a faint knock on the door while she was busy practising miming techniques. That was one good thing about being an authoritative figure: people would always knock the door before entering. She smiled and waited for a while, then she whipped out a few documents and opened them in front of her and waited for close to two minutes before asking the woman to come in. Now a woman with a mission, her mousy assistant wouldn’t waste her time either. Her assistant- Sunanaina, mumbled something about lunch and waited for a response.
“Miss Sunanina, you know I am an extremely busy person. How many times have I told you not to disturb me? Goodness, just get me a protein pack.” In reality, Miss Narayan had her lunch packed in her bag, but what was the fun in just saying no? She’d rather have the girl run to the nearest grocery while answering a million calls on behalf of her. Moreover, she didn’t really like Sunanina all that much, she thought with a devious grin.
This story was inspired by a story board wanting know what we thought principals were up-to when they were alone in their room.