Meena and Me: A Lesson in Kindness

In this deep silence was my guilt, and my fear slipped away. I couldn’t forget her cry — she was miserable.

Meena, that was her name. She is smaller but older than me. I am eleven years old; she is twelve. But Grandma told me not to call her Didi because she is our servant’s daughter. In fact, I like her, but we are not friends. I have many friends, and they don’t like including her in our games. So, I would avoid her when my friends were around.

She doesn’t understand English. One day, my friends tested her with some spelling, but she couldn’t spell even a single word, and then she cried. Amma told me she goes to a different school, so she couldn’t understand English. When I heard this, I thought of teaching her some English, but she was too shy. Amma is proud of me; on the contrary, Grandma always seems unhappy.

Yesterday was a holiday. All I did was sit and watch my favourite movies. Meena came to help her mother but kept glancing at the TV. I know her family doesn’t have a TV like ours — because we are rich and they are poor. I thought of showing her something to make her jealous. I called her to sit and watch with me. She widened her eyes at the screen without understanding anything.

The doorbell rang. Meena’s mother ran to open the door.

“See, your friend has come,” Meena’s mother said.

It was Annie, my best friend.

“Hello, Annie. How are you?” I asked.

“I’m fine. What are you watching?”

“I was watching Tangled. Come and sit. We can watch it together.”

She looked at Meena, who didn’t notice us. She was lost in the world of princesses and Rapunzel’s long hair. Annie jeered at her, and I didn’t want to, but I did too. We both liked her absence; then we could get into our own games and talks.

Annie gestured that she was going to tease Meena by asking something, and I nodded to approve.

“Are you watching this movie for the first time?” Annie asked.

But Meena didn’t hear. So I paused the movie. She looked back.

“Meena, didn’t you hear what she asked?”

She said NO.

My bossy tone filled the room. I repeated the question for Annie. Meena nodded her head to say ‘Yes,’ and for some reason, that irritated me. I became angry and shouted,

“If you want to say something, then speak properly! We don’t understand your gestures!”

Tears filled her eyes. We both burst out laughing. I turned off the TV and told her not to watch without knowing anything. Annie and I thought she would leave, but she didn’t.

Meena’s mother brought juice for us and my special guest, Annie. We both had juice in decorated glasses, which made me feel special. I love drinking from those glasses because, otherwise, they stay locked in the showcase. Meena got hers in an old steel glass, which made me feel even more special.

Later, Annie wanted to play a game that Meena didn’t know, so she would leave us alone. It was called Blind Man’s Bluff. Meena looked nervous when she heard the name and said she wouldn’t play because she didn’t know how. I quickly explained the game, and then we tossed to see who would be the blindfolded catcher.

Unfortunately, it was my turn, which I didn’t like. So I told Meena to blindfold herself instead, or else I would tell Annie some embarrassing stories about her bad English. She was sad, but did it for me.

She covered her eyes, but I could see her tears soaking the cloth. We were thrilled by the game. We spun her around and dodged away from her, giggling.

“I can’t see anything!” Meena said.

“That’s the game! You have to find us!” I said.

I could see her head spinning, but I didn’t help her. She fell down. I was frightened. Annie panicked and ran away. Amma rushed over, lifted Meena gently, and removed the blindfold. Amma’s sharp stare made me feel nervous and jealous at the same time.

Meena’s amma came running in and found her daughter lying on the floor, crying. Her eyes were pale and sad.

She asked me, “What happened to her, dear?”

I had no answer but pretended to be the most innocent one in the room. Amma found some wounds on Meena’s hands and legs and treated them carefully. Meena’s amma cried while cleaning her wounds. I ran to my room — I didn’t have the courage to come out.

I saw the evening sky, painted in red and orange. All the surrounding houses switched on their lights, but inside me, it was getting darker and darker.

Through Grandma’s bedroom window, I could see Meena’s house. Their front door was open. Her father stepped out to wash his hands after dinner. Later, Meena followed him, limping because of her bruised legs. She washed her hands and mouth and went back inside. I couldn’t move from the window. I liked her — she was a good girl — but today I did wrong. I made her hurt, sad, and cry. In this deep silence was my guilt, and my fear drifted away. I couldn’t forget her cry — she was so miserable.

Overwhelmed by guilt, I fell asleep.

The next day, I waited for Meena. But only her amma came, without her. I didn’t dare to ask where she was. I hovered around the kitchen, hoping someone would mention her.

Grandma asked, “Where is your child today?”

Meena’s amma looked at me and said, “She’s not coming today. Her leg hurts. She cried the whole night from the pain.”

“Getting hurt is all part of growing up,” Grandma added.

Nobody said anything about what I did. No one scolded me. But I knew what I did was wrong.

I ran upstairs and looked at Meena’s house. She was sitting on the doorstep, looking thoughtful and upset. I had a small piece of paper in my hand, which I turned into a rocket, just like she had taught me once.

I called for her attention softly: “Shhuu... shhuu...”

She looked around with tired eyes.

“Meena, I’m here! Look up!” I whispered loudly.

She looked up. I smiled. She still looked sad. I launched the paper rocket toward her; she caught it eagerly. She unfolded it and read:

I AM SORRY, MEENA.

COME, LET’S WATCH TANGLED TOGETHER.

AND WILL YOU TEACH ME HOW TO MAKE A PAPER BOAT WITH NEWSPAPER?

COME SOON!

She looked up and smiled. Her beaming face lifted all the weight from my heart in an instant. She got up slowly and limped toward my house. I ran down and waited at the kitchen door.

When she arrived, I held her hand and brought her inside. Both Ammas looked at us and smiled.

We got lost in our games again — together.