Author: Vivek Chakravarty

All the children of Model Public School were very excited today because the school was holding a fancy-dress competition on Children’s Day. Each student was coming to school dressed as a famous personality.

Danny was dressed as the revolutionary Bhagat Singh, while his friend Manu was in the costume of Chandra Shekhar Azad. Rahul was dressed up as Mahatma Gandhi, and Aryan as Subhas Chandra Bose.

Everyone was busy rehearsing their lines. Just then, Garvit entered, dressed as Jawaharlal Nehru.

‘What’s the matter, Garvit? You look a bit worried,’ Danny asked, seeing Garvit looking around nervously.

‘Nothing, Danny . . .,’ Garvit said, and walked away before anyone could say anything.

‘Danny, let him go. Listen, am I saying my lines properly or not? “Swaraj is my birthright, and I shall have it,”’ Manu roared, and Danny laughed.

‘Manu, who have you dressed as and whose lines are you reciting?’ Danny teased, and Manu blushed.

‘Oh, I think I remembered someone else’s lines. But what were my own lines?’ Manu said, trying hard to recall.

‘I will not give away my Jhansi to anyone,’ Katie, who was standing nearby, said.

‘Thank you, Katie. “I will not give away my Jhansi”… hang on—I am dressed as Chandrashekhar Azad, so why am I saying, “I will not give away my Jhansi”? Katie, why are you telling me the wrong lines?’ Manu said, annoyed.

‘Manu, I am not telling you anything. I am just rehearsing my own lines,’ Katie said, and Manu fell silent.

‘Manu, your line is…’ Danny began to say, when Rahul shouted, ‘Do or die!’

‘Rahul, are you sure that’s definitely my line?’ Manu asked in a panic.

‘Oh, Manu, Rahul is just remembering his own lines. It’s very noisy here, so I can’t tell you anything. Let’s go somewhere else,’ Danny said.

‘Where shall we go, Danny?’ Manu asked.

‘March to Delhi!’ Aryan said the moment Manu finished his question.

‘Delhi? The competition will be over by the time we go to Delhi and come back,’ Manu said, and everyone around burst out laughing.

‘Manu, Aryan is remembering his own line—he’s not telling you to go to Delhi,’ Danny explained.

‘Then what are my lines?’ Manu asked irritably.

‘Wait, I’ll write them down for you,’ Danny said, quickly scribbling something on a piece of paper.

‘Here are the famous words spoken by Chandrashekhar Azad,’ Danny said, handing the paper to Manu, and Manu read it.

‘“We are free and will remain free.” Ah yes—these were my lines,’ Manu said happily, and began memorising them.

All the children were busy memorising their lines when Garvit came back. He looked disappointed.

‘Hey Garvit, what’s happened to you? You look as if you went around the entire city,’ Danny said.

‘Yes . . . something like that. I was making a last attempt at looking for a rose,’ Garvit said, and everyone’s eyes went to the achkan he was wearing.

‘You were looking for a rose and yet you came back without it?’ Rahul said, checking the empty pocket of Garvit’s achkan.

‘Yes, I searched in all the nearby shops yesterday, but I did not find a single rose in any. Right now, I went searching for one in the staff room but no luck,’ Garvit said sadly.

‘Oh, then you should have stolen one from someone’s garden. Without the rose, you don’t look like Nehru-ji from any angle,’ joked Bobby, who was dressed as an English General.

Before Garvit could reply, the headmaster announced that the fancy-dress competition was beginning, and the children started going on stage one by one.

First, Karan came on stage as Bal Gangadhar Tilak and loudly said, ‘Swaraj is my birthright and I shall have it,’ and everyone clapped.

After that, Aryan came on stage and gave the call, ‘March to Delhi!’ and once again the hall came alive with applause.

After Aryan, Manu came.

‘We are free and will remain free,’ he said, twirling his fake moustache—but it fell off into his hand, and everyone laughed.

‘Keep silent. No one will make fun of anyone,’ said the headmaster, and everyone became quiet.

After that, the other participants came one by one, and at last, Garvit’s turn came.

As soon as Garvit stepped on stage, everyone started whispering different things.

‘Garvit, have you read anything about Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru?’ the headmaster asked.

‘Yes, sir. He was the most beloved leader of us children, so all children called him Chacha Nehru . . .’

‘All right. If you have read about him, don’t you know that he always wore a red rose in his achkan—and you have come here without one?’ the headmaster said.

‘Sir, I looked in almost all the nearby shops, but I did not find a red rose in any. I even ran around the school earlier, thinking that if anyone had a rose, I could borrow it. Still, I did not find a flower with anyone here either,’ Garvit said softly.

‘Then why didn’t you take a rose from someone’s garden?’

‘Sir, I too had told him that if he did not find a flower, then he should take one from someone’s garden,’ Bobby said quickly.

‘Sir, I could have taken a flower from someone’s garden, but I chose to dress as Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru in this fancy-dress competition because he always inspired us to follow the path of truth and not to steal. So, I did not feel it was right to steal,’ Garvit said softly, and the headmaster began patting his back.

‘Children, today in this fancy-dress competition, everyone has taken on the appearance of great leaders—but Garvit has not only taken on the appearance of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, but he has also adopted his ideals. That is why Garvit is today’s winner of the fancy-dress competition,’ said the headmaster, and as everyone clapped, Garvit’s face lit up with happiness.