The Misfit...

He gazed out of the window with sightless eyes… his hand idly scribbling a pattern on a corner of the page in front him. Doodles inspired by thoughtlessness and a blank mind… the type that could be seen on every page… every page that turned idly in the breeze.

Beside him his peers took notes as the lecture droned on and on… with unbroken concentration…. They were the individuals that would build everyone a fabulous future… being tutored by the brightest minds of the present. All except the one misfit that made not even the slightest attempt to try and focus.

He had passed through the time when he used to try…. Back when he made an effort to force his unwilling attention on the subject at hand. Then he had spent a while learning how to conceal his lack of interest… before that too became a formality, easily avoided… and by no means a must.

Now… he just sat there because he was expected to. His physical presence, in all his classes, was demanded by the rules of the elite institute he was a part of. So he sat, in the last bench… his notebook open… with not a single mark on it… save the careless designs along the edge.

He turned slowly to stare around the room. Not out of a suddenly developed interest to partake of the knowledge being imparted. Not out of fear for being apprehended for his clear lack of focus. He turned because his neck ached from being in one position for too long.

His lazy eyes rested on the occupants of the bench in front of his.

The young couple sitting there had begun to date a while back. Seated sedately near the back of the class, they chatted in hushed whispers… their gladness at this close proximity was somehow reflected in each others expressions.

Both their copies lay open and forgotten in front of them as their minds drowned out all sounds of the lecture… receiving with relish only the soft words spoken by the other half.

His gaze traveled further up the class… past the rows of note-takers… all desperately struggling to keep ahead of the flow of the rapid dictation while typing hasty replies to the texts making their cell phones buzz ceaselessly.

Near the back… taking down the professors words was not a mandatory obligation. A task taken care of, only in the short interval between replying to one message… and the arrival of the next….

Up near the front… the texts had to wait for a lull in the lecture to be replied to. Here the priorities were subtly different.

In the very foremost rows of this citadel of learning, education was being gained in earnest.

The only movement was the dutiful and assiduous copying down of the words preached… in meticulous detail and an unquestioning stupor.

The only thought was to learn… to know what was needed… to fetch the grades that would brighten the future.

Their future….

At the head of the class, the teacher taught. He read from his notes… the theories and formulations he himself had once obtained in a similar manner… and passed it all on to those gathered in front of him… at least to the ones who paid attention anyway.

The misfit stared on from what seemed to be far away.

A part of this class he was… and yet he almost seemed to be surveying the entire scene from some point outside it….

He imagined he could see himself sitting in the class… he imagined he were not there….

He was ethereal… floating outside, elsewhere… just not a part of this particular gathering… lacking a niche in this varied crowd.

It was true that there were all sorts here.

The geeks and jocks… the studs and dorks… all of those brackets failed to categorize him.

Primarily because he didn’t care… he did not want to be classified and branded… he wanted to preserve his uniqueness.

He succeeded… after a fashion.

The bell tolled signaling the end of the academic day.

The day of learning giving way to the night occupied with tuitions and further studies… evenly garnished with conversations and gatherings with peers from near and far.

The typical activities of a career minded but hormone riddled adolescent.

As a whole the body of students moved towards the exit. Their various differences in terms of academic approach and social priorities forgotten as the lines blurred between the toppers and the underdogs….

Single mindedly evacuating their daily prison… the prison they had incorporated into their routine.

The penitentiary… that had become their home….

Each one wanting nothing more than to get away from this place… to the peace of their own sanctum… to rest and start anew.

Only the misfit stayed back… gazing after them all as the class emptied… wondering… where it was that he fitted in.

He packed his bag… lethargy etched into every jerky motion of his tired limbs….

He settled back… in the last bench of the empty class… and returned his gaze to the world outside the window.