Shala (36 page)

S
chool was over and I was under the constant supervision of Aaisaheb and Ambabai. They would not allow me to leave the house. I had the permission to sit in the verandah in the evenings. But there was no one to play with. Nikam kaka’s TV would be on all the time, which I would watch for a while. But I was not comfortable sitting in that crowd. KT and Vijay would have visitors. They held their meeting once, but they did not call me. Ambabai would be on guard after returning from college and Aaisaheb would take charge of me in the morning. She had decided to stay put and had stopped going out, except to buy vegetables in the evening.

I was unable to concentrate on the first day. But then I realized that there was no escaping this and I might as well concentrate on my studies. I would be able to extricate myself from their grip only if I secured a rank among the top five. They would not spare me if I got low marks and my rank slipped. They would not only change my school but put me under house arrest. I would be tortured to death. In any case, it was just a matter of another year. I need not bother about anyone once I clear class ten. I decided not to think of Shirodkar. Let her not speak to me. I would now focus on getting my rank. If possible, I would try for the first rank. It would put Bibikar and Ghasu Gokhale back in their place. I would collect my results proudly, and then she would be forced to look at me. It is said that fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds, isn’t it? Let me try that!

T
hat spurred me on. I was reminded of a poem we had in school last year—‘a lone star to reach for and fire below the feet.’ I focused my attention on nothing but my studies. I would wake up in the morning and immediately sit down to study. I did not ask for tea or breakfast or lunch. I had forgotten everything—Baba, Aaisaheb, Ambabai, the people in the building, Surya, Phawdya, Chitre—even Shirodkar. My focus was to revise one chapter after another—whether Napoleon or Magna Carta. I was lost in the different types of winds in Geography and the process of making Hydrogen Sulphide in Chemistry. Archimedes and Newton gave me company while various insects fascinated me in Biology. I was engrossed in linear equations, Trigonometry and Algebra.

T
he examinations began. We had a paper each day between eleven and two. We had the eighth standard children for company. Shirodkar was not in my room. We had a few girls like Achrekar, Dongre, and Ambekar, who had come in only to appear for the exams. I was hoping to meet and wish her luck for the exams, but she was with other girls in the next room and I dared not speak to her in their presence. Mirikar came in to wish Achrekar and, while going out, she wished Bibikar too. Ghasu Gokhale was busy poring into his book, so she did not speak to him. She would have wished me too, but I avoided her eyes. Surya sat in the row ahead of me, so there was no question of him anything during the exams. Phawdya was in the rows behind me, but he did not bother me. At the most, he would ask for answers to ‘match the following’. Chitre was in the same row as Surya, but it was upto him to help.

I attacked the paper the moment the teacher handed it to us. Usually, I was the first person to ask for supplements. In fact, Ghasu Gokhale and Bibikar gave me a surprised look, seeing me ask for the additional sheets so early in the hour. I would have enjoyed writing the paper had Shirodkar been in our class. The Chemistry and Physics papers were a bit tough and so was Geometry. Hindi was difficult, but on the whole the exams went off well. At home, I would be asked the same question every day and I would say, ‘I have done well’. Obviously, they would not believe me, but I did not care.

We would rush home after every paper. But, as per our ritual, we did meet after the last exam. No one refused Bhaishetye when he joined in.

‘I am not sure of my performance,’ Phawdya said the moment we sat down. ‘I got screwed in Algebra and Geometry.’

‘Me too,’ Harishchandra said.

‘I am dead in History,’ Santya said.

‘And I am dead in everything,’ Surya said.

‘Chemistry was a little tough,’ I said in order to add to the conversation.

‘Joshi, saale, you had no time to look around. You were scribbling away with your head down,’ Surya said. ‘Looks like you had been nicely bambooed at home.’

I kept quiet and did not answer.

‘Aai has warned me—if I fail I will have to quit school,’ Phawdya said. ‘I will have to sit at the shop then. We have been given a permanent shed in the vegetable market now.’

‘Good for you,’ Surya said. ‘My dad is forcing me to attend school at least until the tenth standard. Even if I fail, he will not allow me to quit.’

‘My dad does not bother at all,’ Santya said. ‘They are planning to marry off Sundri next month.’

‘Sundri’s wedding?’ I asked.

‘You bet! I will invite all of you. You will get to eat some mutton. Joshi, will you eat?’

‘I will eat Joshi’s share,’ Surya said. ‘Just ensure that we are invited.’

‘Naru mama is getting married too,’ I said. ‘We are leaving next week.’

‘Aila, so he is finally getting married, is it?’ Phawdya said. ‘Are we not invited?’

‘Why do you need a formal invitation?’

‘Who are the teachers next year, yaar?’ Harishchandra asked.

‘Next year? Kendalkar will surely take Maths,’ Chitre surmised. ‘And Bendre, English.’

‘We are screwed, bhenchod,’ Surya said.

‘What about Zende sir?’ Harishchandra asked.

‘Zende sir will be there,’ Surya said. ‘But what can he do alone? Manjrekar sir is gone.’

‘And that pain-in-the-neck Prem Chopra will be there. Kendalkar sir is tolerable, but Prem Chopra is bad news.’

‘We won’t have Rajguru sir. No Drawing classes next year.’

‘What about Paranjpe ma’am? ‘Surya asked. ‘Hope she’s there; at least something to look forward to.’

‘We have all the difficult teachers next year,’ Chitre said. ‘Appa—to start with.’

‘Which classroom are we being allotted?’ Santya asked. ‘Hope not that bloody caged one inside.’

‘Exactly that,’ I said. ‘The current Ten-B is there. One cannot see anything outside from it.’

‘Next year is going to be a pain in the ass, saala,’ Phawdya said. ‘Tenth! Each and everyone will be sitting on our heads.’

We were relaxed as the exams were over now, but the very thought of the next year was suffocating. But I was fine. Until the time Shirodkar was around, I did not care whether the classes were held here or in Andamans!

‘Screw the next year,’ Surya said. ‘First we have to clear this year. Hey, how many subjects are we allowed to fail in, without losing the whole year?’

‘Three,’ Chitre answered. ‘I think they should promote everyone to tenth standard. We have studied for ten years. Is that not enough? Whoever wants to go ahead can appear for the exams.’

‘I agree, Ichibhana,’ Surya added.

‘But who is going to listen to us?’ Phawdya asked. ‘They don’t run schools based on our recommendations.’

‘You start a school when you grow up,’ Santya advised. ‘You can take Chitre as an advisor.’

That broke the tension. We all laughed out loud. Then Surya started singing one of his ribald songs and Santya joined in. We asked Bhaishetye to recount his tales of Bhaween, and Phawdya later sang an abhang. The atmosphere was gay and light. Time, like the rapidly receding sunlight, flew without notice.

A
mbabai and Aaisaheb had no excuse to hold me back at home now that the exams were over. Besides they got busy with the preparations for Naru mama’s wedding. Luckily Aaisaheb was on the groom’s side, so the responsibilities were fewer. She would leave five or six days in advance. At first, I was not keen to accompany her. I had already made my plans for those days. It was an ideal time to visit Shirodkar, but ever since Surya’s prank, I had decided to take it easy. A good rank in the exams was sure to make things easier for me. I had the entire month of May to myself. Aaisaheb would leave within a few days and the results would be announced by the end of the month. So I changed my mind and decided to accompany her. Naru mama’s company was fun and I had Ashok, Gaikwad’s son, as a companion. There was a sugar factory there and, adjacent to the professor’s colony, there were sugarcane fields.

I had, of course, not stopped going over to Shirodkar’s lane. The very first day I spotted Misal and quickly made up the excuse of coming over to meet him. He had come out to buy some groceries and I had to accompany him to the shop. I spent a little time with him and then returned home. The next day, I walked through the lane to find no activity around the house. They were, in all likelihood, not at home. Another day, I spotted her walking the verandah and was tempted to visit them but somehow could not get myself to do so. I would not have minded meeting her outside. But the opportunity never arose.

I visited Chitre a few times and once Phawdya’s stall too. Chitre seemed very quiet. He told me that Kevda’s father had decided to put her in a different school. Chitre’s mother was planning to move to Bandra near their mavshi’s house. It would suit her as her office was much closer from Bandra. The arguments between his parents continued and her mother had made up her mind to move to Bandra irrespective of whether Chitre’s father joined them or not. Chitre had spoken to Devaki about his mother and she had fired her. Chitre seemed a little uncertain of his future.

T
hat day, while returning from Chitre’s house, I met KT, Ashok and Vijay at the Gyanjyoti library. They had another friend with them. They seemed to be waiting for someone. It was not yet dark and I could see the road clearly. They stood in one corner. I saw them and stopped.

‘What, Mukund? Returning from your usual bird watching?’ Vijay asked.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘What are you guys doing here?’

‘The same,’ he said, laughing. ‘There is lots to see here.’

‘Are your exams over?’ KT asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Then what’s the plan?’

‘We have to go for Naru mama’s wedding,’ I said.

‘Aila, he is finally getting married, is it? Where is the girl from?’

‘From his town.’

‘How come he has not invited us?’ KT asked. ‘We need to catch him when he comes next.’

‘The invitation will follow,’ I said. ‘Else I will hand it over to you. But you should come.’

‘No. We will accept the invitation only from Narya.’

They spoke to me, but their eyes were on the road. They seemed to be waiting for something or someone important. KT glanced at his watch a couple of times.

‘Are they coming?’ their friend asked. ‘It is already ten minutes late. Hope there is no problem.’

‘They will come,’ KT said.

‘Are you waiting for someone?’ I asked.

‘Our friends,’ Vijay said.

‘Off to a movie?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’

I stood there with them. It felt good, standing there like an adult, without a care in the world. We could watch the people pass by. A couple of college girls went by, looking at us and giggling. It was getting a little dark and the lights in the shops were coming on one by one.

‘Mukund, you carry on,’ Ashok said, his tone a little serious. ‘We are busy. You go home. Don’t wait here.’

I looked at Vijay and KT and they nodded their heads. They looked a little tense. Their friend seemed anxious and had raised himself on his toes to look at the other end of the road. There seemed to be some sort of noise coming from the other end of the road.

I was about to move when KT said, looking at Vijay, ‘Ask him to convey the message. You may not be able to.’

‘How can I tell?’ Vijay asked. ‘Why don’t you tell?’

KT thought for a moment. He then put his arms around my shoulder and said, his voice assuming a serious tone,

‘Mukund, ask your sister not to fancy Vijay. We are not sure of our future. She should not waste her time.’

For a moment, I did not register the meaning of his words. Then it struck me. Ambabai liked Vijay. Ambabai! I could not believe my ears. I looked at Vijay. He glanced at his watch and then smiled at me.

I was about to ask a question when their friend said, ‘Let him go. I think they have arrived.’

‘Okay, you go,’ KT said. They were watching the other end of the road. The buzzing noise increased in its intensity.

I moved away a little but stood near Parsekar’s shop watching the road, hiding behind a few oil barrels kept on the footpath. Soon I could hear slogans.

‘Emergency Murdabad!’

‘Murdabad, murdabad!’

‘Hatao, Hatao. Emergency Hatao!’

A group of five or six men walked by, shouting the slogans loudly. Everyone stopped to look at them. I could recognize two of them though their names eluded me. I had seen them in our building.

Ashok, KT, Vijay and their friend joined the group. Their slogans got louder. They urged the men on the road, ‘What are you staring at? Join us.’

‘Emergency murdabad!’

Vijay pumped his fists in the air and shouted. I had never seen him shout loudly. The others repeated the lines. They stood near the library shouting for a while and then moved ahead. The slogans continued.

I was tempted for a moment to join them. I may not know their slogans, but I could always shout, ‘Bharat mata ki jay’, or something like that. But I stood rooted there. I was a bit scared. Their voices faded as they moved away. It was dark and the lights were on all over now. I remembered they had asked me to go home.

KT’s words rang in my ears. Ambabai had fallen for Vijay! No one knew about this except Vijay, KT and Ashok. She had turned out to be a chupa rustam! I had been fooled. Then I remembered instances that connected the dots—she would come out and watch whenever Vijay played carrom or chess. She would often visit Jyoti vahini upstairs and they would stand in the gallery and talk. Now her secret was out! She could not try her dadagiri on me any more.

I met Ponkshe kaka’s son Kiran on the way and told him what Vijay, KT and Ashok were upto. He was surprised and said, ‘Aila, really? Let us go and inform Appa.’ Ponkshe kaka was watching TV, sitting bare-chested as usual. Kiran and I described what I had just seen. Others had gathered by then.

‘These guys have finally decided to take the matter in their own hands!’ Ponkshe kaka exclaimed. ‘I had been telling them—don’t get involved in all this. But they won’t listen to me. We are scared but they are young. If they don’t take up these issues, who else will? Shabbash! But shouting slogans will not help. We need to burst bombs! Bombs!’