Kirit

A local school teacher resurrects his childhood rubber-band gun skills to introduce his class of high-spirited young boys to the immutable laws of motion and aerodynamics.

“Zztt!” a wad of paper whizzed past Kirit Parmar’s right ear. His glasses fell from his startled hand and he whirled around. The laughing, wriggling gaggle of boys went still the moment he turned to look at them.

It was a beautiful, warm day. The clouds were already here, the rains would come soon. In his day, he had been the champion paper bullet shooter. Many teachers had lost their spectacles, one had almost lost her eye. Now it was his turn to be the target. He smiled grimly as he waited for the silence to sink in and settle down.

“That was a very bad shot,” he said, staring at the straggly bit of paper he had picked up. “Because this paper has not been folded correctly. How can it go straight if you do it like this?”

No one made a sound. Even the air went still.

“Here,” he went on, “give me a piece of paper and your rubber band gun.”

Paper materialized from thin air and the makeshift gun made its way to his outstretched hand.

“The laws of aerodynamics say that the projectile needs to be as streamlined as possible,” he said, folding the paper into a tight rectangle. “And it needs to be perfectly balanced, with a center of gravity slightly forward. Like this,” he said as he pinched a crease in the folded rectangle, which now looked more like an arrowhead. 

“No science lesson! We are on picnic!” whined a thin little voice down the line. 

“Yes! We want to go to the tekdi and jump in the talao” another voice chimed in.

“Phat!” the paper whizzed through the air and startled the sparrow in a nearby bush.

“That,” said Kirit Parmar triumphantly, “is how you shoot. Any questions?”

Silence blanketed the boys. The fog of dread started rolling in. All hopes of spending the day playing in the water began to evaporate.

“I got permission from the headmaster to take you boys out on a science field trip.” Kirit Parmar’s voice was sharp. “This is not a picnic,” he said firmly.

Clouds of gloom started rolling in as the group shuffled its way forward. Sulking, abject silence tightened its grip as they approached the tekdi. The gentle breeze lapping the happy little waves in the lake greeted them with whispers of welcome.

“Now,” said Kirit Parmar, “we are going to do an experiment to study the force of gravity. Your take-off velocity will be directly proportional to the duration of the interval between take-off and splash down in the talao.”

Stunned silence enveloped the group like a wet blanket, and for a few moments Kirit Parmar’s heart sank at the thought that they did not understand. Then bedlam ensued.

Kirit Parmar smiled as peals of joy lit up the tekdi and little bundles of energy leapt off to soar in the air before they splashed down in the water.