Shala (17 page)

I realized she would find a different way to reach home whenever I was absent from class. She would either take the other route or spend time with her friend, chatting. Either way, I would not be able to meet her. I could keep sitting until eight or even ten o’clock!

A
mbabai was waiting for me at home.

‘What happened? Why are you coming home late these days?’ she demanded.

‘I was with my friends. Have I not told you earlier?’

‘But why so late? It is past eight, you know?’

‘So?’

‘What kind of friends are these? And what were you doing in the Municipal library? Padma told me she saw you there.’

My mind did a million calculations in a second. I had to come up with something credible.

‘Sir came in late,’ I said, without getting perturbed. ‘So I decided to spend time in the library rather than wasting time elsewhere. Aai, I am hungry. Give me dinner.’

I was quiet at dinner time. In Naru mama’s words, I had not ‘factored’ in such eventualities. Ambabai’s friends are spread all over—school, college, embroidery class and that committee or samiti, or whatever they have. One can never be sure where one will run into one of them. Many of these friends come home. I always go out whenever they come, but they recognize me. They are all ‘aunties’ like Ambabai, with oily hair. I like that sharp-nosed Marathe though. I heard Ambabai telling Aaisaheb once that she resembles Nargis. I like seeing her and, whenever she comes in, I get butterflies in my stomach. She should have been in my class. It would have been so nice then. Or I should have been Ambabai’s elder brother. But these girls are all idiots; they treat Ambabai’s brother as their own. So they take it upon themselves to keep an eye on me. God knows where that Padma landed from. I need to be careful henceforth.

I decided to attend the tuition class earnestly.

T
he classes were full as always. Shirodkar behaved as before, not looking towards any of the boys. But I felt light. There was no stress now. Earlier I used to feel stressed whether in the class, in the playground, in the building—everywhere. As Naru mama would say, it was a lot of ‘tension’. But now I felt relaxed.

But after five or six days I got a little worried. It was different earlier. My thoughts were mine. But now I had spoken them out. And that too directly to her. God knows what she would be thinking. She may be upset or angry—or both. She had clearly said it was not possible for her to do this. What if she continued to remain upset?

I was tempted to wait there every day. But I knew it would be foolhardy. She would think I was trying to block her way like some lout. And it was quite right for girls to think that way. I needed to come up with some other idea. I had to find a way of meeting her every day either in the lane or on the road, or sometimes near the temple. It did not matter whether we spoke or not. I had made the mistake of accosting her in a dark lane. I would be a dead duck if she told this to Mande or some other girl. The news would spread around town in no time.

I had no other choice now. Naru mama would have advised the same. He had said you need to sow a seed in their minds. He said that the seed would sprout and become a tree and then the tree would flower and there would be fruits. But the seed had to sprout first. And for that one needed patience. You cannot reap until you sow, can you? Our duty is to sow; whether it sprouted or not was another matter.

I decided not to bother anymore. The arrow had left the bow. Whatever had to happen would happen.

I
t was Pethkar’s ma’am’s class, but she had not turned up. More than five minutes had passed since the earlier class got over, but no teacher was in sight. Most of us were getting restless.

‘Ichibhana, shall we push off?’ Surya asked.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Phawdya added.

‘Joshi, you also come, bhenchod,’ Surya said, looking at me. ‘Chitre, are you coming along? What are you going to do sitting here? What is the next period?’

‘PT.’

‘And the one after that?’

‘Rajguru sir ’s—Drawing.’

‘That’s it, bhenchod! We will return for the drawing class.’

By the time we could decide, we saw Dashrath and Santya coolly walk out of the classroom without looking at anyone. They turned back once before leaving the class. This was a common occurrence. They did not scamper or run. They just walked out and disappeared into the woods. Harishchandra was absent else he too would have followed them.

Surya got restless seeing them leave.

‘You guys can sit here, bhenchod,’ he said, from the door. He glanced back for a moment and then ran off behind the other two.

‘I too am leaving,’ Phawdya said, getting up.

I looked at Chitre. He was sitting on the other bench.

‘Come on, let us push off,’ he said, getting up. ‘What are we going to do sitting here? In any case, if they declare an off period, everyone would be out in the ground.’

I peeped out of the door. The ground was silent. There was no teacher in view. Ganoba, the watchman, was not to be seen anywhere. I walked down the steps and ran through the playground towards the woods. Chitre followed me.

The trees had a cool shade. Phawdya, Santya, Surya and Dashrath had already taken their respective places. Surya, as usual, was sitting on the huge branch while Santya dangled from another one. Phawdya and Dashrath sat on the ground.

‘See! I knew you too would follow!’ Surya said. ‘Why were you acting so pricey then?’

‘We were not acting pricey. We were just making sure,’ Chitre clarified.

We selected a rock and sat down. The area was getting dry now. The earlier dampness had given way to a dry patch. The paddy fields on the other side had been reaped sometime back and were barren. The sun was mellow and there was a nice, warm feeling all over. A lot of dry leaves had gathered on the ground.

‘When is the sports competition?’ Surya asked.

‘Fifteen days from now,’ I said.

‘And the gathering?’

‘Following the sports meet.’

‘I am going to be a volunteer there,’ Surya said. ‘You guys should volunteer as well.’

Surya loves to volunteer in the gatherings. He can strut around wherever he wishes. He does not participate in any of the events like plays or songs but does his job sincerely. He gets a chance to go around at will—the girls’ make up room included. I had participated in a play last time, but I found it to be the domain of nerds like Bibikar. The play, on top of it, was quite boring. I decided I too would join the volunteer group this time.

We saw Bhaishetye coming our way. He must have left the class following us.

‘Abey oye, seth ke chamche, munim ki aulaad-idhar aa,’ Surya called out to him. Ever since he had seen a recent Dharmendra movie, he would try this dialogue on someone or the other.

‘Aaya, aaya,’ Bhaishetye replied in Hindi.

‘Come, saale. Looks like you too pushed off from the class.’

‘I had nothing to do sitting there.’

‘Did anyone take the off-period?’

‘No,’ Bhaishetye confirmed.

It was evident why Surya was engaging Bhaishetye in a conversation. Ever since he had told the story of the Bhaween lady, the god’s mistress in his village, Surya was keen to know the details. Chitre believes Bhaishetye exaggerates a lot, but listening to the stories is exciting.

‘So tell me what happened in her house then? You left the story mid-way,’ Surya, said, referring to the conversation they were having in the class.

‘I told you. Both Bhikusheth and Dadya went to her house together. That’s all.’

‘That’s all? They must have bickered over her—who would go in first, isn’t it?’ Phawdya added.

‘No. Nothing of that sort,’ Bhaishetye said. ‘They are idiots. They went in together. They did not fight.’

‘She must have been fraught,’ Phawdya said.

‘She can handle ten such fellows.’

‘Must be fun for her, bhenchod!’ Surya drawled.

‘Yes. Bhikusheth and Dadya were sweating it out,’ Bhaishetye added.

‘Were you there to witness it?’ Chitre asked, nonchalantly. I doubled up with laugher, hearing that. Bhaishetye made a face.

‘Shetye, don’t you bother about them,’ Surya cajoled. ‘You sing that song.’

‘Which one?’

‘Remember the one you sang yesterday?’

‘Ah! Leave that be!’

‘Hey, come on! Don’t act pricey.’

Shetye pondered for a while.

‘I will sing just one stanza, okay?’ he said, feeling a little shy. Then he cleared his throat and looked around. Santya, sitting high up in the trees, was all ears.

‘One two three four

Aunty says close the door

Grab tight, hold right

I want once more’

We all laughed out heartily.

‘Waah! It is really nice, bhenchod! Will you write it down for me? I want to memorize it.’

We then sang a very raunchy song, which has become our unofficial school anthem. No one knows who wrote it, but it is immensely popular. All the boys, including the new ones, learn it within days of joining. Surya may not recall a single poem from his textbook but knows most of the stanzas of this one. Chitre knows twelve. I am told Sonar from class ten knows seventeen of them.

Phawdya said, ‘I know a new one.’

‘Tell us!’ We chorused.

‘It is not a song, just a sort of a abhang. I learnt it from one of the boys from Tope High School.’ And then he went on to recite it in all sincerity.

‘They say there is nothing wrong

To find a girl tall and strong

Listen to what the wise men said

Find a tree with ample shade’

He then paused and looked at us.

‘What next?’ Surya said. ‘What happens next?’

‘I am trying to recall the words…’

‘Arrange the leaves to make a bed

The girl is waiting to be laid

Gently open her blouse’s knot

And then you know how to start!’

‘Waah! Shabbash!’ Surya said. ‘They should have such abhangs in our textbook too. What is the point in having those dull, boring ones? What do you say, Joshi?’

‘I agree. Boring ones talk of soul and salvation!’

‘We should write our own textbooks,’ Phawdya said.

‘Right,’ I said. ‘We can easily do that. We need not write everything ourselves. We can get others to do that. We can select the songs we want and the chapters we like.’

‘We can copy from
Apsara
magazine.’

‘Yes.’

‘And we need to include our favourite school song,’ Surya said.

‘That’s the anthem. It has to be there. We will make the school sing it each morning,’ Chitre said.

‘The girls will not sing,’ Surya doubted.

‘We will create a new one for them,’ Chitre continued. ‘We will have a committee for selecting such songs. Ambekar will lead the one for girls. The committee will decide on the books too.’

‘It will be fun, bhenchod,’ Surya said. ‘Ambekar will create a raunchier one than this.’

We loved the idea of asking the children to select their school curriculum. No one would be bored of studies. No one would complain. We would learn our lessons in a day!

We kept talking in the shade of the trees. Phawdya was lying in dry grass. Santya had climbed to the higher branches. Dashrath, as always, got up to pee in one corner. He returned to boast of how his pee had reached a distance of five feet.

‘Hey, you know the latest about Rairikar?’ Phawdya asked.

‘What about her?’

‘That girl is going around with a guy from Tope High School.’

‘Rairikar? No way! What are you saying? She does not even look at boys.’

‘I am telling the truth,’ he said, getting up. ‘I saw her last evening. She’s too clever. She came over to buy some vegetables and then wasted a lot of time asking about this and that. I wondered why she was not leaving when she had finished buying.’

‘Then?’

‘That hero came in after a while. They went into the lane near Mathura Sweets. Luckily Aai came in and I got free. I followed them to find the two standing there and merrily chatting away.’

‘In that crowd?’

‘Of course! They are bindaas and actually very smart. They know if you are found chatting with someone in a crowd, no one suspects you.’

‘Bloody hell. What chalu girls we have, bhenchod,’ Surya said. ‘I never imagined Rairikar would have an affair.’

‘She’s so quiet in class,’ Bhaishetye commented.

‘The ones who are quiet are the ones who do all these things,’ Surya said.

He was silent for a while. Then he jumped down and said, ‘Hey, each one will declare his secret love today!’

For a moment, I did not understand what he meant.

‘Hey, listen to me, guys! Each one has to reveal his secret love interest. No one should hide anything. I love Kevda. Kevda meri jaan!’ he said, throwing kisses in the air, and then turning towards us, said, ‘Now guys! Tell me.’

Chitre and I looked at each other. We did not know how to respond. We kept quiet. I was hoping no one would say anything, but Dashrath volunteered, ‘You know mine; the one in the village.’

‘That Kanchan? You call her your sweetheart? Bhenchod
,
you are fingering her all the time. What about you, Santya?’

‘Don’t you know her? She stays in the same lane as yours.’

‘That Shobha? She’s a bloody kid. You will have to carry her around on your shoulders. What about you, Phawdya?’

‘Mine is studying in Tope,’ Phawdya said. ‘You know who I am talking about? Vaishali Kadam. She comes to buy vegetables every evening.’

My chest was pounding now. Next would be Chitre and then me. Surya loves to start such discussions. One cannot make him change his mind then. I was in a spot now. For a brief moment I was tempted to reveal Shirodkar’s name, but then I realized the whole school would be talking about it in no time. Life would then be impossible for me and her. And anyway, I had no idea what she thought of me. I waited for Chitre to say something. I knew that he had fallen for Kevda, but I knew he would never reveal that in public.

‘Chitre, you tell me!’ Surya said.

‘Mine stays in Bandra,’ Chitre said, fiddling with a grass stalk. ‘She stays in mavshi’s building. Her name is Naina. Naina Thakur.’