Schoolmates (7 page)

“Let’s see who wins this time. You know, there comes a point in your cross questioning when we feel Anjali would actually pounce on you and demand compliance. Yet you remain so cool and refined. Is it really a tactic or is it because you two are friends? And don’t you feel angry Anjali when Riya NEVER agrees with anything you say?” Gloria spoke finishing her sandwich and locking her lunchbox. She placed it aside and looked at us both, who had been sitting there nonchalant and unaffected by these excited remarks.

“Naah!! I do mind it on stage, as the entire school is watching me, but really Gloria, I know at times in my heart that she is holding a better argument.” Anjali replied.

Everyone knew she had the mark of becoming a great orator. There was something so deeply mesmerising and polished about her diction that ever since her admission in our school, she had been winning laurels not just inter-house but also inter-school. I was really proud of her, and never felt bad about losing to her.

“And I suppose this time around the scholarship position for studying Arts in London will also be contested by you Anjali?” Jaya asked again. Anjali nodded in affirmation. She wanted to study arts or mass communication; it was her dream to earn that scholarship.

“Well, I hope my Cinderella wins then.” I said lovingly putting my arm around her shoulders.

“You won’t go easy on her now Riya, just so that she wins . . .” Ayesha joined in, though she was standing with her back to our group but clearly her ears were towards us and she pitched in on the right note.

“That should not be your concern Ayesha,” Anjali spoke in my defence.

“Oh but it should. After all Riya and I are in the same house Anjali. I too have my loyalty towards it. Just because she is your friend, would you know . . . reduced the competition, I think.” Ayesha replied.

“Let the judges give the decisions. You should not try doing stuff that’s beyond your comprehension.” Anjali retorted sharply.

“Well, it seems I’ve touched a raw bone. It is quite obvious now, after your reaction what will really unfold on the judgement day. So long then.” Ayesha walked away swaying her hips, to the amusement of the boys who stood gapping at her.

I was worried now! Is this what everyone was thinking? Should I drop out of the debate? Should I confide in my house mistress and then drop out? What would my mom think? She had put in hours of effort in my script writing and rehearsals thereafter.

I was pre-occupied in the next period. While reading the text I fumbled over the simplest words. I missed the explanation of the concept completely. I was so engrossed in my own ideas that I did not hear the teacher call out my name. Anjali budged me and then I got up and walked to my physics teacher for submitting my assignment. Kabir stood up empty handed as always.

“Anjali . . . should I drop out of the debate?” I asked her finally when the thought had become unbearable.

“And what would that accomplish? They all would say you made is too easy for me by removing the little competition that I had,” Anjali replied calmly.

I looked down at my hands, totally confused.

“Don’t let people get to you that way. Do what your heart tells you. I would hate even standing on that stage without you in the next row. I love quarrelling with you onstage . . .” Anjali smiled. I too could not repress my smile. I was reminded of our last confrontation. The judges had blown horn thrice, before either one backed down. The entire school was in encore and there was thunderous applause. I had won that day. This time, I wanted it to be her.

It was during these days that the basketball tournaments had begun. Tejas and Kabir had both cleared their try-outs, though everyone knew there would be no team without them. Still, I was relieved that he had made it; else, people would have hung it around my neck again. Our school had reached the quarter finals and that day the match was to clear the semi-finals. Arjun Shah was our captain. He was from twelfth grade and a thorough gentleman. He wanted to join the army and we were all sure he would as well. He was a marked sports man, a good student and a complete team player. Each member spoke highly of him and so had Kabir, on those distant occasions we were friends.

As I sat among the school crowd cheering for my team, I saw Kabir play. He was . . . talented and brilliant. I could not help feeling proud of him. It was like he read the thoughts of his team mates. His throws and catches were synchronised and he never missed a basket. Arjun had a habit of calling him in from the corners, and Tejas was his cover. Surprisingly, they played well in tandem for the school. I suppose, loyalty towards ones institute is bigger than personal grudges in that age.

Our team was at a tie with the opponent by half time. As everyone was taking a break, I saw Kabir sit on the floor and discuss something with other mates. I was told his moves and tricks were flawless. He studied the other teams, and then devised ways to crack their defences. I was sure that’s what he was telling the coach now. He was actually coaching the team to understand the moves of the opponent and aim to break their rhythm. A slow, brainless, dull, weak boy could never do that, I thought to myself. So there was something about him that our teachers missed. Something that was so unique, that I could not learn it. It was in his blood, he was a pin-up player.

As Kabir scored the winning basket that day and I saw the entire school shout his name with pride and excitement, I wondered at how our study patterns glorified academic excellence more than anything else. Today, among the faculty, Mr. Bonerjee too, was happy that we had Kabir in our team, yet on regular days, he would not miss a chance to reprimand Kabir.

It also occurred to me that I was no better. I had also judged him based on his weakest point. I had let other people get to me and broken his trust. I felt ashamed of my own shallowness. He had not said one word against me, unlike his habit. I should have seen the qualities in him for which he was the hero of the school today, because that’s what he was, a hero. Everyone was patting his back, every teacher was proud of him, every student wanted to shake his hand, every girl was mad about becoming his friend.

And me? I was consumed by my own guilt. Sorry seemed a tiny word, but it had a new weight now, and had to be said never-the-less . . .

CHAPTER-13

T
he terminal examination results were out and Kabir had passed. More than him, I was glad. I recall perfectly that day when Dev had come up to me to return my old notes which I had lent to Kabir for studying.

“Here. He sent them for you,” Dev had placed the bunch on my table.

“What, that’s all Dev? Din’t he ask you to convey his thanks to Riya for lending them to his majesty?” Anjali spoke up. I shushed her and replied instead, “It’s ok Dev. Say congratulations to him from us.” I spoke politely.

“From her only . . .” Anjali muttered under her breath and bent her head into her books again.

I saw Dev walk to Kabir and convey my message. I knew Kabir would turn my side and he did. I just smiled. He remained completely aloof.

As the day progressed, a storm in the staff rooms blew up. Apparently someone had questioned Mrs. Ratna Dhir’s answersheet checking abilities. There was some talk of someone’s marks been wrongly calculated. It was later that we realised that it was none other than Tejas, much to my relief as I was only getting to relax about Kabir’s marks.

“But that’s impossible! I know how much I calculated! There was no error!” Mrs. Dhir was hysteric.

“See again Ratna.” It was the sound of our Vice-Principal. At this point we were shut off from the conversation as Mrs. Ratna left the staff room to fetch the paper in question and the Vice-Principal left for her office.

There was a fast exchange of words in quick succession and by the end of the next period the entre senior wing was aware that Mrs. Ratna Dhir had wrongly evaluated Tejas Ahluwalia’s Geography formative answer sheet.

Tejas was like the crown prince. Surrounded with curious ears, he was relishing narrating his tale to all interested parties, over and over again.

“I knew I had scored more! That’s why I looked very carefully and there . . . in the maps section, I found she had forgotten to check my work. And know what . . . all answers were correct too!! I scored a complete five points!! And my grades have changed because of that.” Tejas was bellowing with self—righteousness.

I myself was bemused. We all had studied under Mrs. Ratna Dhir,the previous year as well and I was of firm opinion that she was very meticulous in such evaluative tasks. Her skills for this, data processing were quite fool proof. Yet, the teachers too remain over loaded with work and there was a tiny possibility that she missed it this time. However, Anjali was not convinced and asked all to await the final result of re-evaluation.

“Let’s show some faith and respect guys . . . Ms. Ratna has never fouled up data before!” Anjali spoke.

“Of-course, you will be calm since it’s not your grades getting affected Anjali!” Tejas replied.

“Sure Tejas, I would be concerned only if my A2 was becoming A1. I would not even bother if a meek C2 was converting into a C1.” Anjali replied sharply.

“Well it matters to some of us!! Ask Riya . . . It matters to her too doesn’t it?” Tejas nodded in my direction.

“Riya? Well Tejas, have you gone cuckoos? Riya is all Ai student!” Anjali asked surprised.

“I know darling. I meant it would now have begun mattering to Riya since her dearest Kabir is in this range as well.” Tejas mocked.

“Shut up Tejas!! Don’t be a fool and you dare not say things like that!! Don’t forget she is a house prefect as well!” Anjali fumed up.

“Ok I won’t. But truth hurts darling, doesn’t it,” Tejas smiled mockingly and got buried amongst the few more gossip seekers. Ayesha was his prime target, fascinated as she was by the concern he was bestowing on her and Madhuri.

It was really a shock to me when Ms Ratna did actually increase five marks in Tejas’s maps.

But as the day wore on, I detected something else. Apparently, something had happened in the second last period and Tejas was called down to the Principal’s office. Then, Mrs Dhir was seen rushing out of her class, leaving the students rushing out behind her, to the office as well.

Later it was announced that Tejas was suspended for ten working days . . . along with Kabir!

It was near my bus stop that Jaya filled me in. Her elder sister’s class faced the offices and that’s how she and others of her room overheard everything.

Apparently Kabir was caught fighting with Tejas, brutally, after Tejas got the suspension. Tejas was found to have entered the map details AFTER it was fully evaluated and been shown in the class. He usually did this, but someone saw him do it this time and reported it to Mrs. Ratna later in the day.

It was confirmed that the answers were written after he had seen the papers in class and his parents were called to inform about the same and Tejas was suspended with Mrs. Ratna cleared of any error.

Tejas was furious that his trick had back fired. He was also a bit embarrassed to face all those to whom he had fed lies the entire day and especially Anjali who he knew would not miss rubbing his nose in this mess.

But, more so he was convinced it was Kabir who had reported him and therefore, without confirmation or any notice he had pounced on Kabir in the senior boy’s locker room and there had been a huge fight between them. The result was that even Kabir was now facing suspension for five working days.

I was aware that Kabir had been listening to Tejas brawl about the marks all day. But I was sure, because of the excess work load; he had not had the time to ponder over this much. Therefore, I had a nagging feeling that someone else was involved in all this and I was determined to find it out.

The next day, both Tejas and Kabir were absent from the class. As the day progressed I saw and observed carefully all the pupils in my class gossip about them. I noticed different reflections of excitement and awe on their faces. ALL were amazed by this episode and therefore this seemed a very normal response, shown by all sixteen year olds . . . except one!

Joy Ghosh.

Joy sat mute and smiled remotely whenever anything related to suspension was spoken. I was convinced he knew something. So in recess, I asked him.

“Joy . . . Kabir did not report Tejas. I know it.” I spoke confidently. I saw Joy suck in air.

“Do you know who did?” I asked again. Joy was transfixed to the spot. I knew now that it was a few more minutes before I could break his silence, but he looked ready to faint that very moment.

“Joy? Joy?” I shook him by the arm. He was transfixed, it seemed.

“Joy? Sit down ok . . . sit.” I literally pulled him down on the bench where we usually sat and had food.

“Look Joy, you can tell me everything. I know you know and so I have an obligation to tell the teachers. But if you confide in me, I promise, your name won’t come up. I will take everything on me, whatever the consequences!” I tried my most convincing tone.

Joy took his time, but finally he narrated the entire episode to me as to how he had rolled his pencil under the bench and as he had bent down to look for it, he had spotted Tejas making the additions to his then, empty map. He had not known that it would become such a huge issue.

I knew what had to be done. So as soon as the recess was over, I found myself outside the Principal’s office, awaiting the call of my name.

“Yes, dear. Why did you wish to meet me?” My Principal looked up from her bifocals and smiled at me. I was a popular student.

“Ma’am . . . there is something very crucial I must confide in you, but I can’t disclose my resource . . .” I told her everything. She sat there politely listening to every word I said.

“Ma’am, we just assumed Kabir to have done it. He did not, at least not this time.” I finally ended my statement.

“Are you sure about this resource of yours?” The Principal asked after a few minutes of thought.

“I’m positive ma’am,” I replied.

“Ok. I appreciate all this. I will look into the matter now. You may go. And Riya, do not disclose our dialogue to others . . . not even