“Why?” irritated by his interruption, I asked. “Ma'am I have some important work”. Important work? I know you boys too well to believe that, I thought. “And what is that i-m-p-o-r-t-a-n-t work? I made no attempt to hide my sarcasm. “I have got some work for Mission 5,” he replied. “Mission what?” “Mission 5 Ma'am.” The voice reiterated. “Just sit there quietly till the bell is rung.” I was convinced that this was the routine pranks students indulge in and he was just acting smart to escape from the class and I did not even bother to enquire further. It took me a while to recollect myself and tune the class in. But when I was almost succeeding at that… “Ma'am, please let me go,” the voice pleaded again. “It is really important.” Now that was it. I had to confront him but before I could give him a piece of my mind, I thought. “Can you to explain me what on earth is this Mission 5?” “Ma'am we are collecting Rs. 5 from each and every student in the college to help poor students. That's why we call the initiative Mission 5.It's our mission Ma'am.”
Oh! Well… That's really great! Though not totally convinced, and a trifle taken aback perhaps, I heard myself uttering those words. Soon the bell rang and I had to leave the class hence our conversation could not continue further. But I had to probe this matter, after all students money is involved, decided.
A long conversation the next morning with Ashok Shah revealed that Mission 5 indeed is no less than a mission. All through out the discussion on the Mission 5, I could sense his passion, his commitment. Confidence was oozing from each and every word he spoke but more than that what surprised me most was his meticulous plan. He seemed to be so sure about the execution of his project. Like a pucca professional, he laid down a bunch of papers before me and I read: 100 brail papers for the Indiranagar blind school…cost... 15 new bags for Jeevitha Ananthiliya...cost ...and so on….A detailed account of each and every rupee spent or would be spent, leaving no room for any one to point a finger at him. I could not help saying, Bravo!
At the same time a guilt feeling made me numb. I remembered how conveniently I had forgotten about a resolution I had made when I was of his age. I remembered the numerous occasions when after having an elaborate dinner with my friends in an expensive restaurant, every time I encountered an old malnourished stretched out arm expecting just one rupee or that little boy in that neighborhood garage being humiliated by the owner for asking one extra piece of bread that exceeded his daily quota. “I must do something for them, I had then pledged. And then pressure of exams…assignments... pressure of jobs and at a later stage pressure of domestic commitments...I realized I never ran out of excuses for not having time to keep my resolution. I am sure many others would identify with me.
