Out sourced

"I'll break your arm, first, and then your leg. Just tell your mum okay ?" So saying, he sauntered off with the little fellows'  break, his tiffin, leaving him with tears in his eyes, and a gnawing hunger in his belly. No matter where he tried to hide, the bully always managed to find him. His mother packed the best tiffins ever, and eating it was the high point of the day in school for him. But the past week, since he had first found him relishing it, he had grabbed it from his hand and thereafter had pursued him, nay laid in wait for him, ambushing him  as soon as he emerged from class. All of ten, he lacked the courage, and the height, to stand up to him. His mum had tried to inveigle  the reason for his sudden reluctance to go to school, from him, but had failed.

"What happened ? Why did you give him your break ?" asked the sweet little voice. Fear in his heart, turned to relief when he saw that it belonged to the pert little girl, his neighbour in the classs. Relieved to be able to tell her the whole sad story, he blurted the whole sorry tale to her. Her forehead creased, finger on her cheek, she listened patiently. "Let me see, will you share just a little of your tiffin with me, if  I get rid of him for you, " she asked, her eyes twinkling at the promise of a tasty treat everyday. "Can you do that, ?" He asked incredulously. "I will tomorrow," she replied. "Just exchange your tiffin with mine in the morning."  Seeing the wary look on his face, she laughed and added, "Arrey, baba, just for a day. Okay?" So saying she ran off to play with her friends.

The next day, his mother packed his favorite, noodles with honey sauce, and a bonus walnut brownie, to cheer him up. He hurried to school, eagerly almost. Searching for his champion, he found her sitting serenely in class, her tiffin on her desk. "Here," he said. "Its my favorite: noodles, so please try to save it from that fatso," he pleaded. "Dont worry, "She smiled. "I love them too."

The lunch time bell rang. Trepedition in his heart, he was the last to emerge from the class room, which was then locked up by the class moniter. He was joined quickly by her, "Hurry up," she hissed. "He's coming. Don't talk to me. Just sit beside me." A little girl, of about six stood beside her. His heart thumping, the blood rushing to his head, he saw from the corner of his eyes, the bully loping towards him. Reaching them, he grabbed the boy's tiffin. As he did so, all hell broke loose. It seemed to him as if he was surrounded by little girls, all of them wailing and screaming as loudly as they could, all the while pointing fingers at him. Before he could react or run, they were surrounded by a crowd. "What happened, girlie, " someone asked. "He stole my tiffin, " wailed the six year old. Her banshee voice which would have done a tenor in the philharmonic, proud rang out in the compound. "See, my name is on it. " The bully paled as at least twenty pairs of accusing eyes turned towards him. "Shame, Shame ! TiFFin thief.. TIFFF IN thief" shouted the twenty voices in unison. Egged on by the girl, the voices continued to taunt him as he fled, the voices following him to his classroom, where his class mates stood listening avidly to the uproar. "Stealing tiffins from babies, eh motu ?" Said the  head boy, "If i hear or see you do it once again, im going to report you, you hear ?"

Head hanging in shame, he stood. The next few days, he was absent from school, but when he did turn up, he was forced to eat his tiffin in the school gym, because public memory was always refreshed by some one or other, who would chant "TifFFin Thief, TiFFin Thief " behind his back.

"Girls !" Thought the happy little avenged victim, as he sat relishing his tiffin, "I love them."