It was almost midnight. I turned over pages of the dictionary, warily trying to memorise the spellings of words randomly for the Spelling Bee that was just around the corner now.

‘If only I could win it,’ I thought.

I imagined myself holding the magnificent Spelling Bee trophy and the cheque of the ten thousand rupees prize money, standing in front of a cheering crowd. It would be like a dream.

However, no matter how hard I tried, the words kept slipping from my mind. I turned back to the previous page and tried to remember the words I wanted to memorised, but sighed in frustration. I had forgotten most of them. It was no use.

‘Did they expect us to memorise the whole darn dictionary?’ I thought heatedly. ‘They should just give us a list of words they are going to ask.’

Suddenly I was struck by an idea. I formulated a plan, a plan to triumph! ‘I’m going to win no matter what it takes,’ I thought determinedly before going to bed.

The next day I was sitting in class. It was time to put my plan into action. I put my hands on my head.

“Ma’am,” I moaned, “I have a headache. I need to go to the matron for medicine.”

The teacher nodded her approval and I set off. I headed not for the first aid room but the staffroom. As expected I found it empty, all the teachers were in their classes or busy in a meeting with the principal. I tip-toed to the vice principal’s desk and starting rummaging through documents.

I found what I wanted in the bottom drawer ­— ­copies of the list of words they were going to ask in the Spelling Bee competition! I pocketed a copy just as I heard footsteps outside. I leapt towards a nearby desk and the door opened. A teacher stepped in. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of me. I grabbed a board-marker off a desk.

“Ma’am Naveen sent me get this,” I invented an excuse and walked past her quickly.

That night I easily memorised the words in the list and next morning, I nailed the Spelling Bee, effortlessly securing the first place. But for some reason, I didn’t feel happy. Before the prize distribution, my friends surrounded me and congratulated me on my achievement.

“You must have worked really, really hard,” said Sohaib, my best friend.

“I stayed up till two, memorising words. Wish I could have won,” he said, “but you must worked even harder than me, you deserve it!”

Guilt reared in me like a snake. I turned away and walked onto the stage where I was crowned the winner. In the crowd, my parents’ faces were clearly visible. They were swelling with pride. The crowd too looked at me with admiration. In their eyes, I was a model student, a hard worker.

It should have been my big moment, but it wasn’t. I felt hollow. I had cheated all of them, I realised what a horrible thing I had done. I was filled with remorse. I gave away my prize money in charity. I learned that a victory gained by unfair means has no value. Losing with pride is better than winning by cheating.

Published in Dawn, Young World, December 10th, 2016

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