Anyone Else But You... (25 page)

Rishav read all the fan mails in his inbox. He always felt good when he did that. It gave him the satisfaction that people still cared. When he looked up from his mobile screen, he noticed that the class was now almost empty as all had left for the library.

He got up and walked towards the library alone. As he walked through the corridors, he remembered the first day of school. It was all a big maze but now he knew every corner of it. Eight months seemed to have flown by just so quickly.

In the library, he took a newspaper and sat alone on a deserted table. He scanned the two floored library, he noticed things he seemed to have never noticed before.  Like, he had never noticed the painting hanging on the wall or the door to the small terrace above, or the replica of the Eiffel tower sitting on one of the tables. He looked at all the people sitting nearby. It was a joint library period with the Commerce stream. Siddhant was nowhere to be seen,
good for him
, Rishav thought. Surprisingly, Sahana too was missing.

After the end of the period, he walked back from the library to the classroom – alone, yet again. He entered the classroom and saw Sahana and Vanya sitting together. Vanya’s constant detours to their classroom had begun to bother Rishav but he chose not to say anything about it.

He felt a pain str
etching his arteries. He wanted to go talk to Sahana. But after a lot of consideration, he decided against it. He knew heart in heart that giving her time, enough to think about it was the best thing he could do.

Just when he was about to resume wasting his time on his mobile phone, an announcement on the PA system caught his attention.

‘This message is for all Council members. Please report to the outer-stage for the final run through of the Socialact Wave.’

He sighed, he knew that with the event being just around the corner – he’d be required to do a lot of running around. He geared up for it and dragged himself out of the class reluctantly.

*

It was six in the evening by the time, the final preparations for Socialact Wave finally winded up. The event was scheduled to be held in a couple of days and the sponsors had already poured in whatever money they had to. On the gala dress rehearsal
that day
, everyone was pretty high and most Socialact Club members were swimming in a pool of Vodka. It was like the party was yet to begin but the lead up to it had to be as exciting as it could be. They all headed to a famous hookah bar close by to enjoy the success of putting together one of the most tainted functions to have been ever organized in the history of the school.

Jai and his gang walked around backslapping the random Delhite when Jai’s Blackberry beeped. He had subscribed to the Delhi High School group page on Facebook. He smartly maneuvered his fingers to reach the link to that page. He read the update and couldn’t quite believe what he saw. He read it again.

He turned to Chintan, “Dude, this must be some kind of a prank. Just check any alternate group page of Delhi High School, please?”

“Sure,” Chintan said and started fiddling with his Blackberry. In matter of minutes, Chintan’s jaw dropped.

“What the fuck man?” he yelped. Hardik who was right behind them got interested too and in just about minutes, his Blackberry beeped too.

None out of Chintan, Hardik or Jai could believe what they were seeing but they had no other option but to go there and verify.

*

After a long hard day of getting ordered by the members of the
teaching staff
, Rishav ambled across the hallway to reach the Reception Area of Delhi High School. He least expected it to be crowded especially it being the beginning of the long week when Wave would be held – it was a time when people would be preserving their energies for the main event as the organizing was already done. As he moved closer towards the Reception door, he heard loud voices. There was indeed a crowd gathered around there.

What luck!
Rishav thought. Just when he was thinking of untucking his shirt and loosening his tie, he comes across a crowd in the Reception area. And generally a crowd in the Reception Area consisted of outsiders and no Council Member was allowed to be in improper uniform around that place.

He saw Veenu Sharma who apparently seemed to be crying. Bindu Kalsi sat nearby wearing a contemplative look while Muskaan Kaur paced the area around her. Besides them, there were around thirty other staff members sitting at different locations. Suraj Singh seemed to have attracted an abnormal number of them.

Rishav quickened his pace and walked straight upto Veenu Sharma, not caring a hoot about whether his actions would be dissected or not.

“Ma’am?” he asked politely.

She looked up. “What’s wrong ma’am? What is everyone doing here so late? Why are you crying?” there were so many questions in his head.

“Didn’t you hear?” Veenu Sharma asked in between sobs.

“What ma’am?” Rishav was dumbstruck.

“Your friend, Siddhant…Siddhant Dalvi jumped off the roof of his house. He’s dead.” She said.

Rishav looked on in total disbelief. He remained silent for a minute or so and then finally, he felt his world come crashing down on him.

TWENTY-FIVE

Rishav slipped through the mass of white clothes and sad faces.

“Excuse me,” he said as he raised his hands over his head and tried to squeeze his lanky frame past the last of the mourners. As he went closer to the body, Rishav’s eyes widened in horror as Veenu Sharma’s words finally seemed to have struck him.

Fully d
raped in white
,
the
body of
Rishav’s
first friend in Delhi High School
lay there peacefully.
Siddhant Dalvi.
Siddhant appeared even more serene in deat
h
than what he was in reality. There seemed to be no inkling of the trauma that he had been subjected to prior to his death. The only signs that lay testament to his horror were the bruise marks all over his face that he had received at the hands of Suraj Singh. His mother sat right beside him, crying her heart out as some of their relatives tried consoling her.

Rishav stood there for a moment, blankly staring at the lifeless Siddhant. He was too shocked to even cry. It seemed just about a couple of days back when he had met a shaken Siddhant after the Suraj episode. Even then, Siddhant refused to divulge any details of the brutal assault; such was his commitment towards the school and the whole idea of its image being untarnished. Siddhant’s laughter echoed in his ears. It seemed ages since he last heard it, how he wished that he had spent more memorable moments with Siddhant. He wished that as friends, he had more chances to bright up Siddhant’s face with a smile. He looked on as the first traces of tears rolled down his eyes.

He remembered his first day in school and Siddhant’s move forward. He remembered being shown around the school and being told about its hypocrisies and double standards. It was ironical that the one who saw through all the superficiality was the one who had to end his life. It was ironical that Suraj Singh would soon be promoted to an administrative position.

Rishav shifted his long gaze from the body to his surroundings. He saw a number of familiar faces, including those who never cared for Siddhant when he was alive.

“How did you know him?” a man in his mid-40s asked Rishav politely.

“I am his friend from school,” he replied. “Rishav Sen, that’s my name.”

Rishav noticed the man’s expression change, “Oh yes, Siddhant spoke of you a lot. He was all praises about how you managed so well in a changing environment.”

Rishav barely smiled as the man spoke, “I am his maternal uncle.”

Rishav nodded, mumbling a faint, “Nice to meet you Sir.”

It seemed that the effect of Siddhant’s death had totally sunk in for his uncle. The gentleman seemed abnormally stable at the time of such a tragic moment. Some amounts of silence prevailed between the two, till the person broke it.

“He was very polite to his elders, he worshipped his teachers really. I wonder how he got into that fight,” he said.

It was hard to believe that Siddhant’s family was yet to know the real reason of the bruises that he had got in school. Or the real reason
why
he died, though Rishav didn’t know much about it either.

“I know it’s not the right moment to ask Sir, but erm…by any chance did Siddhant leave behind a note or something. Huh?” Rishav asked hesitantly.

The gentleman rummaged his pockets and took out a crumbled piece of paper, “I had to hide it from my sister.” He said, “It’d be great, if you don’t tell anyone we found this.” He stuffed the piece of paper into Rishav’s open palms in a hurry, lest somebody saw it.

“I have to make a move and organize for the ambulance that will take him to the crematorium,” the man said.

“He will be cremated today?” Rishav asked as he spent a minute straightening out the crumbled piece of paper. By the time he looked up to expect an answer, Siddhant’s uncle was gone.

Siddhant was void of a lot of things in his lifetime but what hurt Rishav the most was the fact that Siddhant always deserved more than what he got but he seldom complained. Siddhant was content and his death would turn out to be the decisive moment in someone’s life – Rishav Sen would finally get to feel the presence of a spin
e.

*

Bindu Kalsi grabbed the folder lying closest to her and flung it across the roo
m in a fit of rage. It crashed i
n
to
the flower vase that
adorned the bookshelf right in front of her.

Even before the sound of the class vase shattering into pieces could die down, she screamed out, “You morons did not tell me that Suraj had beaten
up
the Dalvi boy?”

Muskaan Kaur and Neeti Chopra stood silent, with their heads down like little school kids did when they were reprimanded by their teachers.

“And Muskaan, you had the audacity to write a false suspension letter? Under what pretext?” Kalsi shouted.

“BK…” Muskaan began.

Kalsi interrupted her, “And remember this, when you are addressing me, you are addressing this
office
, so I want to hear the word -
ma’am,
the next time you speak.”