Sharma Sir sprang to his feet, his face turning every imaginable shade of crimson. Grabbing his weathered wooden stick—splintered tip directly at Arjun and Gopi.
"Today, you two would become absolute history!" he roared, his voice cracking with pure fury.
The two boys didn't need to be told twice.
They bolted.
Arjun and Gopi tore across the dirt, running frantic circles around the assembly ground. Behind them, Sharma Sir gave a chase with with such a terrifying speed, that he was looking less like a middle-aged physics teacher and more like an Olympic sprinter fueled entirely by adrenaline and rage.
"Sir, please! We're sorry!" Arjun yelled over his shoulder, coughing up dust.
"STOP RUNNING AND FACE YOUR DOOM!" Sharma Sir bellowed, his face twisting.
Naturally, that only made them run faster.
The entire school stood in stunned, breathless amusement. Hundreds of students bit their lips, struggling violently not to laugh out loud, while the senior teachers marched up and down the rows, feigning strict discipline while secretly enjoying the show.
The laughter of the entire school pressed in on Arjun. As he saw girls standing there also laughing on him, and realised everyone was watching his public humiliation, pointing fingers, and relishing the entertainment.
Then, the noise faded.
Standing right in front of him comes a girl named Laila. She was an eighth-grader, a full year his senior, and the girl he had spent months quietly admiring from a distance, but never once find the courage to ever speak to her. But while the rest of the crowd mocked his struggle, Laila was the only one standing amongst them who didn't laugh.
Instead, her eyes locked onto his with an unmistakable, quiet empathy.
Normally, the crowd's laughter washed right off Arjun—he'd grown a thick skin to their teasing. But seeing his humiliation reflected in her eyes changed everything. For a sharp, fleeting second, the weight of the crowd's mockery actually pierced through, because he could see how much she felt for him. Yet, just as quickly as the embarrassment stung, it vanished. The sting was entirely disarmed by the gentle warmth of her gaze, anchoring him in a sudden, quiet sanctuary right in the middle of the chaos.
Suddenly, a deep, resonant voice thundered through the main PA system, echoing off the concrete walls.
"STOP."
The entire ground froze instantly. It was as if someone had hit a giant pause button.
Standing near the edge of the stage, microphone in hand, was Principal Khanna. His expression was unreadable.
Bowing their heads, Arjun and Gopi slowly slunk toward the stage. A heavily panting, disheveled Sharma Sir walked alongside them, clutching his side but refusing to lower his weapon. He pointed an accusing, trembling finger at the duo.
"Sir, look at them!" Sharma Sir gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Look at the unbelievable, utterly hazardous way they arrived at school today! These two lunatics literally fell from the sky like malfunctioning enemy missiles. They crashed through the mango tree and landed right on top of me! I swear, Sir, I have no idea what scientific anomaly they are made of. Any normal human being would be in the intensive care unit with fractured bones, but look at them—not even a single scratch!"
He took a deep breath, his chest heaving. "They take advantage of this freakish luck to pull these monkey stunts every single day. They aren't your average students, Sir. They are little demons! They deserve nothing less than a good beating and suspension for a week!"
Principal Khanna listened patiently, his arms folded behind his back. His eyes darted from the furious teacher to the two boys, who were suddenly very interested in inspecting their shoelaces. A tiny twitch at the corner of the principal's mouth betrayed him—he was trying incredibly hard not to smile.
"Sharma Ji, I completely understand your frustration," Principal Khanna said calmly, his voice soothing the tension in the air. "But beating them with your stick won't solve anything. If physical punishment alone created wisdom, these two idiots would have been enlightened sages by now."
A wave of suppressed snickers rippled through the rows of teachers.
The principal stepped forward, looking down at the entire assembly. "But don't worry i have some appropriate punishment for them, So, here is how we will handle this. Every single student who arrived late today—and yes, even those of you who are usually late but somehow miraculously managed to sprint through the gates on time today—will report to the temple beside the school immediately after classes."
A collective, miserable groan rose from the crowd.
"Today is Shani Amavasya," Principal Khanna continued, raising his voice slightly to drown out the complaints. "Hundreds of devotees will visit the temple this evening, and the premises,must be spotless. Temple committee has asked for some volunteers to help them in cleaning the temple. So i have decided that you would be the one to be volunteered, you will have to simply sweep the grounds as they asks you, clean the steps, and help the priests prepare for the evening prayers."
Then, his sharp gaze locked directly onto Arjun and Gopi.
"And as for our two amateur astronauts... you will stay there, and i will make sure that you would be under the strict supervision of the head priest, until the final evening Aarti is completed. No exceptions."
The boys exchanged nervous, wide-eyed glances. Cleaning a crowded temple on a major festival night was going to be exhausting.
"Perform your service peacefully and with a devotion you clearly lack in the classroom," the principal concluded, a definitive sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps the Almighty will grant both of you enough common sense to reach school through the front gate like normal human beings... instead of descending directly from the heaven like an angel of death for our sharma ji."
Laughter instantly erupted across the entire assembly ground. This time, even a few senior teachers couldn't hold it in and openly laughed along with the students.
As the assembly was dismissed, Arjun scratched the back of his head, looking over at Gopi with a weak grin. It was going to be a long, back-breaking evening, but as he glanced back at Sharma Sir—who was still muttering to himself and gripping his wooden stick—he realized they had at least survived to tell the tale.
But survival was a relative term.
The shrill, demanding ring of the first bell shattered the morning air, signaling the start of the academic day. Within minutes, the chaotic chatter of the hallways died down as teachers marched into their respective classrooms.
Just a few doors down, Sharma Sir's booming voice could be heard bleeding through the thin walls as he kicked off his first-period physics class.
"So, kids," Sharma Sir lectured, tapping his chalk against the blackboard, "as we place an object closer to the source of light, the silhouette expands exponentially. The closer it is to the flame, the larger and more imposing the shadow becomes..."
The classroom was suffocatingly hot, but the tension inside was absolute. Right at the front of the room, where sharma Sir was teaching, near the blackboard, Arjun and Gopi were currently in the absolute depths of despair. Sharma Sir had ordered them into the dreaded, agonizing Murga (rooster) position. Their arms were looped under their knees, tightly gripping their own ears, their backs bent forward in a deeply humiliating arch.
But their physical agony was about to get a whole lot worse.
Sitting in the second row was Chochi, the class's chief instigator of chaos. Sensing the ultimate opportunity for mischief, Chochi stealthily pulled a thick, high-tension elastic rubber band from his pocket. He tore a piece of notebook paper, folded it into a sharp, lethal V-shaped missile, and loaded it into his makeshift slingshot.
Aiming dead-center at Arjun and Gopi's highly exposed rears, Chochi pulled back the elastic and let it fly.
SNAP!
"Ow!" Gopi yelped, his entire backside violently twitching upward to dodge the sting.
Seeing the projectile miss, Chochi grinned maliciously and quickly loaded another one. For the next one minute, it was a game of pure survival. Every time Chochi pulled back the rubber band, Arjun and Gopi would frantically bob up, duck down, and twist their rears from side to side like two broken, glitching video game characters, all while trying desperately not to break their official Murga stance and invite Sharma Sir's wrath.
Chochi's friend and few other classmates joined their humiliation by making fun of them and mocks them.
Arjun clutching his jaws suppressing his anger and speak silently starring chochi with his eyes turned red with anger. "Enjoy your laugh while you can, Chochi. We'll see you very soon, mark my words—if I don't turn you into the biggest laughingstock in front of the same class, dancing like a complete lunatic, my name isn't Arjun. I'm going to make you dance to my tune."
The rest of the classroom was in absolute stitches. Rows of students were burying their faces in their textbooks, their shoulders shaking violently as they bit their lips to suppress their hysterical laughter.
Then, the classroom door swung open, and a girl stepped into the frame.
She was non other than laila.
"May I come in, Sir?" her voice chimed, cutting through the ambient noise of the room.
"Yes, come in," Sharma Sir replied, barely looking her while writting on the blackboard.
The mere sound of her voice sent a violent jolt through Arjun. A burning flush of crimson rushed straight to his cheeks. Desperate to save whatever shred of dignity he had left, he instinctively averted his face, snapping his head toward the left. In his sheer panic to hide from her gaze, he completely gave up his struggle against Chochi, abandoning all defense against the relentless barrage of marks and chaotic teasing Chochi was raining down on him.
Laila had only come into the room to hand over a register to the teacher, but it didn't take long for her eyes to scan the room and lock onto Arjun. She immediately caught him in the middle of his frantic, miserable attempt to shield himself from the embarrassment. Seeing him trapped in such a vulnerable state, under Chochi's relentless target practice while the rest of the class enjoyed the show, Laila felt a sharp pang of protective sympathy. She couldn't just stand by and watch him be humiliated.
Turning smoothly toward the podium, she addressed the teacher with a calm but pointed tone. "Sir, don't you think the students in your class are making a bit too much noise and laughing?"
Her polite intervention instantly snapped Sharma Sir out of his zone. He had been so deeply engrossed in scribbling complex formulas across the blackboard that he hadn't even noticed the students' muffled snickers escalating into open, mocking laughter.
He suddenly spun around. His eyes narrowed as he caught the remaining muffled snickers.
"What is so funny?!" Sharma Sir barked, slamming his chalk against the table. "Why is there so much giggling in my class?!"
In a panic to explain their bizarre, frantic dancing without breaking character, Arjun and Gopi instinctively shuffled their feet, pivoting on the spot until their backsides were facing the blackboard and their faces were turned toward the back of the room.
Sharma Sir stared at them, completely dumbfounded.
"Well, well, well... look at this," sharma Sir said, walking over to them with a dangerously amused smirk. "What is this new fashion? Why have you turned your backs to the board? Turn around! Let me see those innocent, holy, angelic faces of yours upside down. Turn, turn!"
The two boys clumsily shuffled around again, their faces red from a mix of rushing blood and sheer embarrassment.
"Ah, look at that," Pandey Sir cooed mockingly, leaning down. "See how beautiful and rosy your cheeks look when they are flushed with blood? So sweet."
"Sir!" Gopi burst out, unable to take it anymore. "This idiot Chochi is shooting us in the bum with elastic rubber bands and paper chits! That's why we were twisting around, Sir!"
"Aah, is that so?" Sharma Sir smiled benignly, folding his hands. "Look at you two, bonding so beautifully over shared trauma. It warms my heart."
The entire classroom erupted into loud laughter.
Laila passes an awful look to Sharma sir.
Sharma Sir's smile vanished instantly, replaced by a cold glare. "Tell me, did you two eat a heavy, nutritious breakfast this morning?"
Arjun blinked, thoroughly confused. "Uh... why, Sir?"
"Because you two absolute donkeys are going to remain in that exact Murga position until the very last second of my period!" Sharma Sir roared.
Another wave of roaring laughter swept through the room.
Gopi let out a pathetic, quiet wail. "Oh, mercy... my spine. I swear my lower back pain isn't going away for at least a week."
"Good!" Sharma sir shot back, pacing around them like a drill sergeant. "Why should I suffer alone? My own back has been aching since this morning because of your little stunt! You two need to feel the burn for at least a day. Maybe a nice, severe backache will remind you geniuses not to fall from the sky like uninvited lightning bolts onto innocent people!"
Sharma Sir then marched directly down the aisle, stopping right in front of Chochi's desk. He held out his palm. "And you, Chochi. Hand over the rubber band. Now."
Chochi put on his best, most unconvincing innocent face, quickly sliding his hands under his desk. "What? No, Sir! I don't have any rubber band. They are lying, Sir, I swear!"
Arjun yelled from the front, still bent over in pain, "Don't believe him, Sir! Look under his desk, the floor is covered in his paper chits! The rubber band is right in his pocket!"
"Sir, they are framing me!" Chochi protested.
"Chochi," Sharma Sir said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Are you going to quietly hand over that elastic band, or do you want me to clear a spot right between these two? If you join them, the three of you will look exactly like Gandhi-ji's three famous monkeys, made roosters."
The classroom completely lost it, table-thumping laughter echoing off the walls.
Defeated, Chochi slunk down in his chair and reluctantly pulled the thick rubber band from his pocket, dropping it into Sharma Sir's waiting hand.
Sharma Sir turned back to the rest of the room, slamming his wooden ruler on the desk. SMACK!
"And what are the rest of you donkeys braying at?!" Sharma Sir shouted, wiping the smile off everyone's faces instantly. "Pin-drop silence! Open your notebooks and copy the derivation on the board.
As the rhythmic scratching of pens once again filled the room, Sharma Sir turned back to the blackboard, leaving Arjun and Gopi to quietly groan in their agonizing murga positions, their thigh muscles trembling under the strain.
Suddenly, Sharma Sir paused, noticing a lingering presence. "And you, Laila? Why are you still standing there?"
"Ah, sir, actually..." Laila began smoothly, "I also came to inform you that Principal Khanna is calling all the late-arriving students to his office right now. The temple staff members have already arrived to gather the student volunteers."
Hearing those words, Arjun and Gopi felt a sudden, electric jolt of life surge through their aching limbs. A spark of hope ignited—this could be their ultimate escape route from Sharma Sir's torture chamber.
Sharma Sir frowned, clearly annoyed by the interruption to his lesson. "What? Principal Khanna is calling them already? I thought the temple staff was supposed to arrive in the afternoon. Why are they here so early?" He sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, fine. Everyone who was late this morning, pack your things and head down to Khanna ji's office."
Instantly, Arjun and Gopi bolted upright, abandoning their miserable crouching postures, and eagerly blended into the small crowd of students moving toward the door.
"Just a minute!" Sharma Sir's booming voice cut through the rustle of bags. He pointed a sharp finger at the duo. "Who said the two of you were allowed to go?"
"But sir," Gopi pleaded, trying to sound as innocent as possible, "she just said Principal Sir is calling all the late students. So we must be included too, right?"
"No, definitely not you two," Sharma Sir scoffed, crossing his arms. "I can guarantee Principal Khanna didn't mean you. You two are a special case of delinquency today."
Before the teacher could completely dismiss them, Laila stepped forward, politely extending a sheet of paper. "Actually, sir, he did. Khanna Sir prepared this list of latecomers himself during the morning assembly to select the volunteers. And as you can see, Arjun and Gopi's names are right at the very top."
She offered a calm, reassuring smile. "Which means they are explicitly required to attend the meeting with the rest."
Sharma Sir stared at the list, his face falling into a mask of deep disappointment and irritation. He had wanted nothing more than to make the two troublemakers suffer through his entire period, but with the Principal's official list staring him in the face, he had no choice.
"Fine!" Sharma Sir snapped, waving his hand dismissively. "Go. Both of you, get out of my sight before I change my mind."
Arjun and Gopi practically floated out of the classroom, broad, victorious grins plastered across their faces. But just before crossing the threshold, Arjun paused. He turned back and caught Laila's eye one last time. Without a single word spoken, his eyes poured out a silent, profound thank you. In that quiet, brief moment, the sheer gratitude he felt for her protection made his secret admiration bloom into something much deeper, anchoring itself firmly in his heart.
A few minutes later, Arjun and Gopi finally arrived at the Principal's office, trailing slightly behind the others.
Catching sight of the notorious duo arriving last yet again, Principal Khanna adjusted his glasses and immediately lobbed a sarcastic comment their way. "Well, well. Look who it is. Tell me, you two masterpieces, have you taken a sacred vow to be late to literally everything? You're managing to be late to a meeting that is specifically for latecomers!"
"Sir, actually, we were..." Arjun began, trying to explain the delay caused by Sharma Sir's punishment.
"Save it, Arjun. Keep your new excuses to yourself," Khanna Sir barked, cutting him off with a stern wave of his hand.
Turning his attention back to the gathered group, the Principal officially started the briefing. The temple staff members explained the upcoming festival details, assigning specific roles and responsibilities to each student volunteer. Once the tasks were delegated, Principal Khanna synchronized his watch to finalize the afternoon timeline.
"Alright, listen carefully," the Principal announced. "School dismisses at 1:30 PM. I want every single one of you back here in my office within fifteen minutes of the bell—no exceptions. We will depart from the school gates at exactly 1:50 PM, which gives us ten minutes to reach the temple grounds. Clear?"
The students nodded in unison.
"Good. Dismissed. Head back to your classes."
By 2:30 PM, the large school clock looked down on an empty courtyard. School had been officially dismissed at 1:30 PM, and while the rest of their classmates had long since sprinted out of the front gates to enjoy their afternoon, Arjun and Gopi had been marched directly next door under the stern escort of khanna Sir. Their real punishment was just beginning.
The grueling work dragged on far longer than either of the boys had anticipated.
The blistering afternoon sun slowly sunk into a hazy, golden west, burning away their remaining energy. What they had hoped would be a quick, thirty-minute sweep had morphed into hours of relentless manual labor. They had swept, scrubbed, lugged heavy iron buckets of water that made their already-sore muscles scream, and dusted under the hawkish gaze of temple volunteers—older volunteers who seemed to possess an almost supernatural, X-ray ability to spot microscopic specks of dust where none existed.
Inside the main temple hall, the white marble floor finally began to gleam under the fading twilight. Arjun and Gopi stood in the center of the vast room, armed with two ancient-looking, shedding grass brooms.
Gopi suddenly stopped sweeping and slowly straightened his posture.
CRACK.
A loud, terrifying pop echoed off the temple pillars. Gopi froze mid-movement, his eyes wide.
CRACK.
"Aaaah..." Gopi let out a long, pathetic groan, his face contorting into the expression of an eighty-year-old retired laborer. "Man... after Sharma Sir made us do the Murga punishment for forty straight minutes in class this morning, my back is completely shattered. My waist is gone."
He rubbed his lower spine dramatically, leaning heavily on his broom like a walking stick. "Honestly, Arjun, I think my lower vertebrae has collapsed."
Arjun didn't even look up, methodically pushing a pile of dust toward the doorway. "Well, what did you expect? Sharma ji was bound to take his pound of flesh. You can't just drop out of the stratosphere and land on your physical education teacher without some cosmic blowback."
Gopi winced, a sudden wave of guilt washing over his face. "The more I think about the collision the more embarrassement i felt."
Arjun burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall. "Oh, please. Even a military-grade guided missile isn't that accurate. you could have landed anywhere in the entire ground, but you had to land right on top of Mr. Sharma in dead-center!"
Gopi snatched a damp, grimy dust cloth off a nearby railing and hurled it at Arjun's head. Arjun dodged it effortlessly with a dancer's grace, not missing a single stroke of his broom.
"Look at the bright side," Arjun continued, his tone turning a bit more serious. "At least Sharma Sir didn't call our parents. He preferred to settle the score personally with the rooster stance. If he had made that phone call, we wouldn't just be dealing with a sore back right now. We'd be fighting for survival."
Both boys shuddered simultaneously, a cold sweat breaking out on their necks as two terrifying mental images flashed before their eyes:
The deadly, heat-seeking trajectory of mother's flying slipper.
And the terrible glare of their fathers.
Neither option seemed survivable.
"True," Gopi conceded, shaking his head to clear the nightmare. Then, he aggressively pointed the handle of his broom at Arjun. "But let's not forget the root cause here. None of this would have happened if I hadn't agreed to your colossally stupid plan!"
Arjun stopped sweeping, looking deeply offended. "Stupid plan? We reached school in exactly three minutes, Gopi. Three minutes!"
"By flying through the sky like flying squirrels, Arjun! That is not a commute, that is an extreme sport!"
Arjun waved his hand dismissively, turning back to his dust pile. "Results matter, my friend. We weren't marked absent."
"The process matters too when the process almost kills a faculty member!" Gopi shot back.
"What's done is done," Arjun said, switching gears to avoid losing the argument. "For now, focus on removing that grease patch near the inner sanctum. The priests will be here soon with his heard of devotees."
Gopi looked down at the smooth, highly polished marble. A slow, incredibly mischievous grin began to spread across his face.
"Hey, Arjun... just make sure you don't polish it too much. We don't want Sharma Sir to come here for the evening prayers, slip on the marble, and fly face-first into the donation box."
For a second, a heavy silence hung in the temple hall.
Then, both boys completely lost it.
Arjun let out a loud snort, nearly dropping his broom as he doubled over. He stumbled backward and leaned his weight against a massive carved pillar, shaking with laughter. "Oh my god, stop! Whatever remains of his poor spine would be permanently liquidated!"
"Exactly!" Gopi cackled, clutching his stomach. "Then tomorrow, instead of standing at the blackboard, he'll be wheeling himself into the classroom, lecturing us about gravity from a motorized wheelchair."
"Or he'll drag us back to the principal's office!" Arjun choked out, tears gathering in his eyes. He suddenly straightened his posture, narrowed his eyes, puffed out his stomach like an airbag, and perfectly mimicked Sharma Sir's high-pitched, outraged wheeze: "Principal Khanna! I tell you, I tell you, these two are not students! They are walking, talking natural disasters! You know this morning they fell on me from the sky like a missile and even with that they were not satisfied that in the evening they make me fell on the floor"
Gopi almost choked on his own spit, laughing so hard no sound came out of his mouth.
Their booming laughter bounced off the high ceilings and the ancient stone walls, filling the empty temple with pure, infectious energy. It took them a good three minutes of breathless wheezing before they finally calmed down, wiping their eyes and catching their breath.
"Alright, alright, come on, hurry up," Gopi said, coughing lightly to compose himself. He pointed a finger toward the massive stone walls near the entrance. "The sun has completely set. It's almost evening, and we still haven't wiped down the heavy brass bells or the side walls."
Arjun wiped a tear of laughter from his cheek and picked up his broom, giving a mock royal bow. "Right away, Your Majesty. Lead the way."
With their spirits lifted and the terror of the morning finally fading into a funny memory, the two boys jumped back into their work, their brooms sweeping rhythmically in the darkening twilight.
Slowly, the day began its graceful surrender to the evening.
The harsh, golden glare of the afternoon sun softened into deep, warm amber hues.
Gentle rays filtered at an angle through the ancient arches of the community temple located high on the hill, painting long, elegant shadows across the newly swept courtyard.
A cool breeze drifted down from the surrounding peaks, carrying with it the faint, rhythmic ringing of temple bells that floated lazily through the cooling air.
Outside the temple sanctuary, a modest crowd had gathered for the final prayer. In the gathering dusk, the oil lamps they held trembled like captive spirits, casting a flickering, ethereal glow over the assembly.
Thick, cloying coils of incense smoke snaked upward from the crowd, weaving a heavy veil of sanctity over the hillside.
One by one, more devotees trickled in.
Some carried fresh strings of marigolds; others brought bundles of incense sticks, while many arrived holding small, polished brass thalis filled with sweet offerings. The temple grounds hummed with life, awakening to a gentle symphony of murmuring conversations, shuffling footsteps, and soft, whispered prayers.
Slowly but surely, the heavy fragrance of sandalwood, crushed petals, and burning camphor completely washed away the sharp scent of soap and cleaning liquids.
Inside the main hall, volunteers moved methodically, lighting rows upon rows of clay oil lamps. Tiny, golden flames awakened one after another, their warm glow dancing beautifully across the pristine marble floor that Arjun and Gopi had spent the grueling afternoon scrubbing. For the first time since morning, the temple looked profoundly peaceful—almost magical. Even the two exhausted boys paused, leaning on their brooms to quietly admire the transformation they had helped create.
Outside, the canvas of the sky bled into deep shades of orange and crimson. High above the distant mountains, the sun slowly dipped below the jagged horizon, officially marking the start of the auspicious night of Shani Amavasya.
Suddenly, the deep, resonant swell of a large conch shell echoed throughout the temple complex.
BOOOOOOOOMMMMMM...
The powerful, ancient vibration rolled across the valley, signaling that the evening Aarti was about to begin
"Hey both of you! what are you watching go wash yourself and join the arti prayer." One of the fellow student cleaning the temple told them while walking towards the praying crowd in the hall.
Arjun and Gopi didn't wasted anytime and soon joins the prayer after cleaning themselves up.
Prayer held for almost five minutes and as the prayers concluded, the tension in the room began to unroll. Devotees drifted toward the exit, the rhythmic clang of the temple bell echoing softly as they departed. Slowly, the great hall emptied, leaving behind a heavy, hushed stillness.