By Praniti Gulyani

August 23, 2021

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God tells Noah to make an ark. He tells Noah to gather his family and all the animals that dwell on the Earth in a wooden ark, and set off into that ark, into a better world. He warns Noah of the dangers to come, of the uncertainty that the storm which spelled nothing but destruction would bring about. And, above all, he tells Noah to have faith. “Faith will steer you through” He had said.

It is an ordinary Monday morning. As I sit in front of my laptop screen, I feel a sudden sense of restriction. It is ideally my first day of school, my first day of Grade XI. But, like so many other things and events in this pandemic ridden year, my first day does not feel like one. As Inavigate through the labyrinth of the Google Classroom, I check the first class of the day.

Sociology.

The journey begins. A cold wave crashes onto the arc, followed by another, and another, and another. Noah’s wife is vomiting into the corner of the arc. Her mouth is filled with salty, sharp sea water. It is almost as though the water has washed out all the words she ever had – to express her uncertainty, her pain . . .

The lesson begins. I am brimming over with examples from the literature I have not just read, but loved; I am taken over by a desire to unify the Liberal Arts that I am not only studying, but also pursuing, to connect Sociology and Literature, and prove how both these academic disciplines complement each other.

As I click on the mic icon to speak, a notification pops up – ‘Your microphone has been disabled.’ Not being able to speak suffocates me. My thoughts shapeshift into words which are clawing at my throat.

As I navigate through the technological procedures, the lesson skims by.

The ark stops. There is black all around – so much black, that looking at it begins to hurt the eyes. “What now, dad?” asks Noah’s son. “Nothing” responded Noah, with a soft smile on his face. “Now, we look for the light. Look for the light!”

It is the next day. As I sit before my laptop with desolate eyes (and a rectified microphone), the first class of the day begins. As the Sociology lesson is elaborated upon and the discussion is continued, my teacher talks about social inequality. There is something that I want to talk about. Domestic Violence.

But more than that, I want to quote a poem that I’d written on this theme– ‘A Purple Poem’. If I propose this, will I come across a braggart? Will my classmates and teacher realize that poetry is my identity; it spells out the person I was, the person I am, and the person I wish to become?

Noah looks at the sky with bright eyes. The colors of the sky seem to undergo a subtle metamorphosis – from black, grey and finally a bright, brilliant blue. As Noah’s children begin clamoring, and his wife softly tugs at his arm, asking him if they can step out of the arc and embrace the comfort of land. Noah asks them to wait. “The right time is almost here” he says. “Let us wait for it to arrive”.

“Ma’am, I’ve something to say” I speak. “Yes?” my teacher answers.

This moment symbolizes transition and change. It is a symbol of unification – uniting the essence of the classroom with technology, the byproduct of which is divine.

Suddenly, the clouds seem to part. A dove emerges. It is holding an olive branch in its beak, drops the olive branch in front of Noah, and flies away. Noah picks up the olive branch and gestures towards the blur of land. “Come. A new land, a new world awaits us!” he says.

“Ma’am, it’s about Domestic Violence. The Social Inequality that you mentioned. I wrote a poem on it once. This poem is called –” I stop. Being in Grade XII, I shouldn’t have mentioned poems in class. Maybe I disturbed the flow of teaching. Maybe I hindered the plan of the class. Maybe I disturbed the academic atmosphere.

Maybe . . .

Being a person of visual emotion, I’d often assess what a person was thinking by their facial expressions.

But, here . . .

“Go ahead. Complete what you were saying. I want to listen. I want to listen to what you have to say” says my Sociology teacher.

Praniti Gulyani

Praniti Gulyani is a seventeen year old girl from one of tbe most vibrant and colorful places in the world. She likes to call herself "a woman of words and verse", and aspires to become a full time author when she grows up. Praniti has been published in over thirty literary journals around the world, and holds laurels in all spheres of creative writing. She is a Gold Finalist Awardee in The Queen's Commonwealth Essay Competition conducted by The Royal Commonwealth Society, London. Recently, two of her poems won honorable mentions in the prestigious Nancy Thorp Poetry Contest conducted by Hollins University, USA. Praniti wishes to teach creative writing someday, and bring more youth into this beautiful world of literature.