Miss Shetty and Mr Gupta

~Council~

Isha's POV

The morning was a whirlwind of activity. I fumbled through a frantic shower, throwing on clothes in a desperate attempt to conquer the clock. Today was the day – School Council campaign day! Every spare moment over the past week had been dedicated to crafting the perfect speech, and now, with butterflies fluttering in my stomach, it was finally showtime.

I devoured my breakfast – a lukewarm, slightly lumpy mess of Upma – barely registering the taste. My mom, sensing my anxiety, appeared behind me, her touch a grounding presence.

"Remember, Isha," she said, her voice laced with a calmness that belied my frantic state. "Project your voice, make eye contact, and most importantly, don't let your knees knock like a pair of maracas in a windstorm."

I nodded vigorously, stuffing another spoonful of Upma into my mouth, only to nearly choke on it. Just then, the front door swung open with a bang, and Rishi burst into the house, a whirlwind of energy.

"Good morning, Aunty!" he boomed, greeting my mom with a playful salute.

Mom chuckled, returning the greeting. Rishi turned to me, his smile faltering slightly.

"Any plans on gracing the school with your presence today, Ish?"

I blinked, momentarily thrown off guard. "What do you mean? Of course, I'm going."

He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Well, judging by the time on the clock..." He glanced at the wall, his eyes widening comically. "Oh boy, it's 8:00!"

A jolt of panic shot through me. School started at 8:30 and with the infamous morning traffic... I scrambled to my feet, shoving a half-eaten breakfast aside. We raced out the door, a flurry of frantic apologies and hurried goodbyes.

A mad scramble ensued. We rushed out the door, a blur of flying limbs and frantic shouts. Ravi Uncle piled us into the car, his usually calm demeanour replaced by a hint of amusement as we buckled up, panting and flustered.

As we sped towards school, I snatched the crumpled paper from my bag – my meticulously crafted (well, maybe not so meticulously) campaign speech. Panic surged through me as I realized I hadn't even glanced at it since finalizing it. With trembling hands, I began scanning the lines, desperately trying to commit them to memory.

Ugh, a speech. Scripting my words wasn't exactly my style. But the thought of winging it in front of the entire school sent shivers down my spine. So, here I was, cramming lines like a last-minute exam review.

 "Oye," Rishi nudged me with his elbow, his voice surprisingly calm. "Relax, Ish. You know your stuff. You'll do great.Just be yourself, and you'll nail it."

His words did little to quell the knot of nerves churning in my stomach, but a tiny spark of confidence flickered to life. The past week had been a whirlwind of campaigning – poster making, hallway speeches, endless discussions about cafeteria vending machine options. It had been tiring, but it had also instilled a sense of purpose within me.  Taking a deep breath, I plunged back into the depths of my speech, a jumble of promises, ideas, and a healthy dose of my usual enthusiasm.

Flashback

A golden ray of sunlight streamed through the classroom window, illuminating the excitement in the air. Principal Desai, a man with a twinkle in his eye and a booming voice, stood at the front of the class.

"Attention, students!" he boomed. "The time has come for you to take charge! We're holding school council elections this year, and I encourage each one of you to participate."