Shala (12 page)

T
he half-yearly exams loomed large after Dusshera. Surya and Phawdya wanted us to meet at our adda before the exam to study together. I helped them with English and Chitre, as usual, would solve all problems in Maths beforehand. But it was impossible to study for long when we were together. Surya talked of Kevda all the time. We whiled away most of the time chatting, whilst the books were mute spectators to our activities. I would come home and study. But it was not easy to concentrate there either.

The exams began. For the language papers, we were made to sit with the eighth standard students, stoking Surya’s hopes of being in the same room as Kevda. But to his dismay, we were with Eighth-D, while Kevda was in Eighth-A. We are made to sit in alphabetical order, so Chitre would sit ahead, followed by me, Phawdya and finally Surya. Surya’s neighbours were Dashrath and Harishchandra, and of no use to him. If he was lucky, he got to sit in the row next to mine. That’s when he could copy at least the ‘fill in the blanks’ and ‘match the following’ type of answers from me.

But Surya needed help in all the papers. We could help with the answers in Maths, but how could one help him copy the equations? Halbe sir once wondered how he had got the answer right when all his steps were wrong. Anyway, it all depends on who the exam supervisor is. If it is Bendre ma’am, then we are screwed. There is no point in having Manjrekar or Zende sir either. They may be friendly, but they do not allow us to talk when the exam is on. Our best bet is Rajguru sir or Halbe sir. Even Prem Chopra is fine. He likes to believe pacing the aisles is a sufficient deterrent; but then we know how to copy.

Since Shirodkar’s name begins with ‘S’, she sits far away from me; in fact most of the time in the next classroom. The eighth standard rooms are cramped and stuffy. But things changed suddenly before the social science paper. We were asked to move to the laboratory, which had been converted into a makeshift exam room. A row of cupboards, lined up in the centre of the room, acted as a divider. But there were just three cupboards. The teachers arranged them in such a manner that they left wide gaps between them. The benches on either side of the divider faced each other.

I came in early. I was on the first bench while Phawdya and Surya were far behind. An eighth standard girl shared my bench. The bell rang and all the girls and boys streamed in to occupy their respective seats. I could not believe my eyes when I looked ahead. Shirodkar and I sat facing each other. It was unbelievable!

I was conscious of the hollow in the pit of my stomach. The tension before the exam added to it. A tremor passed through my body. She saw me staring at her and quickly looked down.

Paranjpe ma’am was the supervisor. I was on the first bench so there was no question of helping anyone copy from me. I had no such plans in any case. Ma’am distributed the question paper and answer sheets. The nerds started scribbling the moment the teacher gave the signal to begin.

Shirodkar glanced at me once before she began writing. She quickly put her head down when she found me staring. I realized this was too good an opportunity to lose. The next exams, the finals, were six months away. There was no guarantee we would be seated this way again. I was not going to let this godsent opportunity go waste.

I continued to stare at her. She must have guessed and did not look up again. Ma’am came to sign the answer sheets. Normally teachers do not converse with students during an exam but, seeing my pages blank, she asked, ‘Why, what happened? Haven’t started yet?’

‘I will,’ I said, muttering under my breath.

I continued to look at Shirodkar after ma’am moved away. Her face radiated freshness; as usual she was wearing aboli flowers in her hair. Her uniform was neatly pressed while her hair was tied into two plaits with yellow ribbons shaped like flowers. The ribbon flowers shook as her hand moved on the paper. Her earrings too moved gently.

I continued to stare while she continued to write without looking up even once. She knew I was staring at her so there was no question of her looking up. No girl would ever do that.

I then decided to concentrate on the question paper. Normally I would attack it with great gusto, but this time the questions were weird: reasons for formation of Prussia, special rights given to the French aristocracy, differences in opinion between Mazini and Garibaldi and so on. We had to write the name of the person who said, ‘If they do not have bread why don’t they eat cake?’ I would have answered these easily on any other day, but today I could not remember a single answer.

I then decided to attempt the ‘fill in the blanks’ section. That turned out to be easy. Manjrekar sir says we should always attempt the best answers first. The examiner is impressed if he or she finds correct answers in the beginning of the answer sheet and then does not bother to check the rest of the paper with the same alertness. If you impress with the first few answers, you are likely to get good marks.

But I was unable to write much. I was worried she may look at me while I was busy writing and I would miss the opportunity. But she never did. The girl next to me seemed to know very little and had a huge blot of ink on her answer sheet. Chitre and I used to help the duds in the senior classes especially in Language or History examinations. But she did not seem to be the kind that deserved help.

The bell rang indicating the end of the first hour.

The paper was for a total of three hours consisting of History, Geography and Civics with forty, forty and twenty marks respectively. The first hour and a quarter were meant for History and all I had answered so far was a ten-mark question. I was sure to fail if I continued at the same speed.

I had a final good look at Shirodkar and decided to attempt the paper with all seriousness. I attacked the History section first and completed it as quickly as possible. I then tackled the Civics paper, answering questions on formation of government, types of governments, etc.

I looked up once and was taken aback. She was looking at me and the moment our eyes met, she looked down. It meant she too was looking at me! My heart began pounding again and the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach returned. I knew that I should not look up. Else, she would not dare look at me again. I concentrated on the Geography section at hand when the bell sounded, signalling the end of the second hour.

The first question was regarding the different types of layers forming the structure of the Earth. I recalled the coloured picture in our textbook and wrote the answer. Then I looked up to find her looking at me again. As usual, she quickly looked down the moment I caught her.

Our game was getting interesting now. I was thoroughly enjoying it. I was not aware of what I wrote in the paper. There were some topics related to the shifting of continents, the various topographies in India, etc. Our game of glances continued for the rest of the hour. I saw her smile faintly just before the final bell rang.

On the way back home, I was in seventh heaven, floating all the way. I was least bothered about the marks I would get. It was a half-yearly exam in any case. Just a bloody drama to keep the teachers busy correcting answer sheets during their Diwali holidays. Her eyes and those lovely irises floated in front of me. Nothing else mattered. Now I had three weeks of Diwali holidays. ‘French Revolution Zindabad!’ I shouted with joy as I walked my way back home through the paddy fields.

T
he Diwali holidays began; but, really, no one likes holidays. ‘There is no school to go to,’ Chitre complained, ‘I do not know what to do. There is Raju on one side and that Devaki on the other!’ Phawdya was worried he would have to sit in the subzi mandi each day and that his mother would buy extra vegetables to sell now. Surya dreaded staying at home lest his father find some reason to spank him. I had no such problems, but there was the issue of passing time during the day. There were no children to play with in our building; the adults would be back only in the evening. Even KT and Vijay were not around until sundown.

I could go visiting Chitre or Phawdya, but that was possible only once a day. What did one do with the rest of the day? We did meet a few times at our adda, but that was no fun. There were no school children passing by. The road was empty. The irony was we would pray for a free period during school hours to escape classes, but a whole vacation with no school was turning out to a burden. We could not even play cricket between just the four of us. Finally, on the third day, Surya said, ‘Ichibhana, this holiday is a pain in the ass. Why don’t they have holidays interspersed with school days?’

I had my own little plans though. I decided to visit Misal. I invited him to my place first, lest he doubt my intentions. I visited him the very next day, but it turned out to be a waste of time. He was keen to visit other parts of the town while I wanted to roam around the lanes next to his house. I realized visiting him was not of much use. He would sit on the steps of his verandah and bore me with stories of farming and other village activities. It was clear; visiting him would not serve my real purpose.

I went to that side of town the next day and spent time sitting below the tamarind tree and reading the newspaper. But I was unable to see her. I tried going up and down the lane a couple of times, but the house seemed to be enveloped in silence. There was no one to be seen. I feared they had gone away in the holidays. In that case, it would be meaningless to roam around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I did not linger any longer and returned home.

But Shirodkar had not gone away, for I saw her at Phawdya’s shop the very next day. We sat on two makeshift benches made of wooden boxes and covered with old gunny bags. There was not much crowd. Phawdya showed me how he could easily cheat some women by randomly raising prices or weighing vegetables incorrectly.

A fat Gujarati lady came in and haggled a lot. Phawdya winked at me saying, ‘Just see how I fool her now.’ And he passed off half a kilo of cauliflower as three quarters of a kilo. He did the same with cabbage. We laughed a lot when the lady waddled away, unaware that she had been duped.

The crowd picked up as the evening progressed, and women returning from their offices stopped by to purchase vegetables. I was about to get up and leave when Phawdya nudged me with his elbow. ‘Wait. I can see Shirodkar coming this way.’ I thought he was pulling my leg. I followed his line of sight and there she was! For a moment, I was worried Phawdya might have guessed I was falling for her.

She came and stood there. I kept staring at her like a zombie, unable to believe my eyes. She was not in her school dress, and it took me a moment to recognize her. She was wearing a lovely floral-print dress. She looked so different.

She flashed a bright, friendly smile at us.

‘So what all do you have today, Pandurang?’ she asked in her sweet, melodious voice. And then turning towards me, she enquired, ‘What are
you
doing here?’

I continued to gape at her. Phawdya, on the other hand, was a cool customer. He replied, ‘I have some nice ridge-gourd and fresh guar beans too.’

‘Give me half a kilo of both. And add a kilo of tomatoes, some coriander leaves and green chillies.’

Phawdya weighed the vegetables. She gave her bag and he poured the vegetables from the weighing scale into it. He added a liberal quantity of coriander and green chillies.

‘How much?’ she asked.

‘One rupee for the ridge-gourd and one and half for the beans,’ Phawdya said. ‘And three for the tomatoes.’

She took out a five-rupee note from a small purse along with a fifty paise coin.

‘No lemons today?’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’

She turned to go, but not before looking at me to give a sweet smile. She disappeared before I could say anything.

She had come in and gone away like a breeze. And she had spoken to me! Actually spoken! I had roamed around her house a zillion times but without getting a glimpse of her. And here she was, standing right across and asking me what I was doing in Phawdya’s shop.

‘What are you thinking, buddy?’ Phawdya asked me, nudging me with his elbow.

‘Does she come here often?’ I asked.

‘Yes, why?’ he asked, gathering the guar beans into a heap. ‘Not just her—most of our school girls do.’

‘Most of them?’

‘Yes, most of them. You think people don’t buy vegetables?’

‘Do you give them for free?’

‘Why would I give them for free? Just because they happen to be in my class?’

‘Do you give them a discount?’

‘No. Many of them bargain a lot when they come with their mothers. In that case, I don’t haggle and agree to whatever they say.’

‘Shirodkar did not ask you the price before buying, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. She’s nice. That’s why I gave her the chillies and the coriander leaves for free.’

I was jealous of Phawdya. And angry at my parents! Why couldn’t they own a shop like this? Any shop for that matter: vegetables, stationery, kirana, cosmetics, or whatever! Even a shop selling pooja items would do. I could sit at the counter the whole day and give away the entire shop for free to Shirodkar whenever she visited us.

‘Saale, you never told me.‘

‘Told you what?’

‘That all the girls come visiting your shop.’

‘What is there to boast about? In fact, you don’t know how embarrassed I feel when I see them.’

What was there to feel embarrassed about? I was not embarrassed to sit there and, in fact, I went there on a few more occasions. But she didn’t come. I could not ask Phawdya about her as he would then surely smelt a rat. He was not an idiot like Misal! I would have to find some other way.

I
invited Surya, Phawdya and Chitre to my house on the first day of Diwali. Normally Aaisaheb is not keen on calling my friends home, but on Diwali she does not mind. I wanted to invite Santya too, but he was not at home. Later, I sent across a parcel of sweets to his house.

Surya and Phawdya are happy to come home. They love the laddoos made by Aaisaheb. But she does not have the finesse with which Chitre’s mother prepares the dishes. Her chaklis never turn out right; they are either too soft or too hard. Ambabai is the one to be blamed. She hovers around in the kitchen trying to help but causing only trouble. But I have to praise whatever is prepared.

Naru mama came over for the bhai dooj festival and stayed back for a few days. I do not miss my gang when he is around. He is the equivalent of four friends. As always, Naru mama had got a lovely saree for Aaisaheb. Aaisaheb was thrilled and had kept the saree prominently displayed for Baba to see on his return from office. He, as usual, gave a packet of money to Aaisaheb on the Padwa day. It must have been the same amount each year. Aaisaheb seemed a little upset that evening. But Naru mama’s presence made the house lively. Baba had given me some money to buy Ambabai a gift. I decided to get her a book of poems. I had wrapped it in coloured paper, and she was happy to receive it.

The next morning was a Friday. A new movie was being screened in the theatre.

‘Naru mama, shall we?’ I asked. ‘There is a new picture in town.’

‘Which one?’

‘
Diamonds are Forever
. James Bond. It is on in the morning show only.’

‘Let’s go,’ he said in English.

‘But are you not already late for the show,’ Aaisaheb asked.

‘You won’t get tickets.’ Ambabai, as always, had to have her say.

‘You need not curse us. We will see what we have to do. Diamonds are for ever,’ I said, repeating each word carefully.

‘No, that’s not the way to pronounce the words. The ‘R’ is silent. You should say diamonds aa foh eveh,’ Naru mama said, as he zipped up his trousers.

‘Diamonds aa foh eveh…,’ I said, trying to imitate him.

We reached the talkies to find a huge crowd there; clearly, there were many like us who wanted to see the movie on day one. The queue for the balcony and the first class stall extended right up to the road. A huge poster of James Bond with his gun in his right hand greeted us. Two ladies, one black and the other white, stood with their backs to each other, flanking him. Now I wanted to see the movie even more. But there seemed hardly any chance of getting the tickets. I could not spot any of the usual black marketeers.

‘I don’t think we are going to get tickets today,’ I told Naru mama. ‘Ambabai cursed us.’

‘Hmm,’ Naru mama said, looking around.

We stood there wondering what to do when I heard a familiar laughter. I turned to see Sukdi with two boys. She walked towards us.

‘Aiyaa, Joshi?’ She exclaimed. ‘So you too have come to see the movie, eh?’

I was at a loss for words. We teased her in the class, but I had never actually conversed with her. And here she was, talking to me as if we spoke regularly.

‘Yes,’ I managed to reply. I looked at Naru mama who raised his eyebrows in question. I was praying she would leave me alone, but she continued.

‘Who is he?’ she asked, looking at Naru mama.

‘My mama.’

‘Oh, is that so? Namaste,’ she said, sounding very well-mannered.

Naru mama was impressed and I was taken aback for a moment. She looked stunning in a purple sleeveless dress, which showed off her slender arms. The dress was knees-length and accentuated her height. She was wearing a big, white hair clip.

‘And she’s…?’ Naru mama asked, looking at me.

‘This is Geeta Shenoy, my classmate.’

Naru mama seemed a little surprised. Sukdi does not look like a school girl and in that dress, particularly, she looked much older.

‘So are you also here for the movie?’ Sukdi asked.

‘Yes. But it seems your theatre here will not give us tickets,’ Naru mama said.

‘Oh, is that so? Wait here for a moment. Let me see,’ Sukdi said. Then she called out to someone in the queue, ‘Mahesh! Get two more!’

So Mahesh was there too. I looked in the direction of the queue and saw him standing there. He waved back, acknowledging Sukdi’s request. I looked around to see if there were any more known faces. But Sukdi continued talking without a care.

‘So what are you up to in the vacations? ‘Sukdi asked. ‘Studying, I suppose.’

‘No. I haven’t started yet,’ I said. ‘What about you?’

‘I went to my village for a few days and have not yet looked at the homework.’ Looking at Naru mama she asked, ‘So what does your mama do?’

‘I teach English in a college,’ he answered.

‘English? Oh god! Ask him to teach us. Our Bendre ma’am is a terror.’

Naru mama did not reply but smiled at her, glancing at his wristwatch once. The crowds were increasing but luckily I did not spot any known faces.

‘Is English such a difficult subject?’ she asked Naru mama.

‘No. Not at all. In fact, English is a lovely language,’ Naru mama said, speaking the last line in English.

‘But this Bendre ma’am makes it so difficult,’ she said. ‘What do you say?’ This was directed at me.

‘Yes!’ I said.

Mahesh came with the tickets. He did not say anything, but just arched his eyebrows. I was embarrassed but kept quiet.

‘Meet Mahesh,’ Sukdi introduced Mahesh without any hesitation.

‘Glad to meet you,’ Naru mama said, extending his hand stylishly.

Mahesh was impressed with Naru mama’s style. He shook hands and gave him the tickets. Naru mama paid him.

‘Thanks so much,’ he said. ‘Hope it was not a bother. Now we can see the movie thanks to you.’

‘Come on! That’s no big deal!’ Sukdi said. ‘Mahesh was buying the tickets in any case. Luckily he was right there in the queue.’

The bell rang and it was time to go in. I was worried Mahesh and Sukdi may be sitting next to us, but luckily they were a little further away. I was waiting to tell Naru mama about them.

‘Sukdi and Mahesh are having an affair, you know?’ I told Naru mama.

‘So what?’

‘Did you see the way they come for the movie together? Without any fear.’

‘What is wrong with that?’ Naru mama asked.

‘Things are really hotting up, you know?’

‘Nonsense,’ Naru mama said. ‘Don’t blabber anything you feel like. She’s quite a decent girl. I liked her.’

I kept quiet. I wanted to tell him everything: how we teased her, how Mahesh was beaten up once. But seeing Naru mama’s reaction, I decided to not volunteer any more information. The movie began soon enough.

We came out in the interval.

‘See if you can spot her,’ Naru mama said. ‘We will buy ice-cream for all of them.’

Now this was getting dangerous. Naru mama was going beyond the ordinary. I would be dead meat if my school mates found me sharing an ice-cream with Sukdi.

‘They will buy it themselves, Naru mama,’ I tried. ‘I will be teased to death if the boys find out I shared an ice-cream with her.’

‘Nonsense,’ Naru mama dismissed me.

We went about searching for her when she landed up with a packet of popcorn.

‘Please!’ she offered the packet to us.

‘Come on, let us have some ice-cream,’ Naru mama said, pointing at the ice-cream counter.

‘No, it is fine. We just had tea.’

‘I will not take any excuse. You are with us, isn’t it? Then please come.’

‘No, I mean, we are fine,’ she pleaded. ‘Joshi, why don’t you tell him?’

Naru mama was not in a mood to listen. He seemed to be impressed with her and bought expensive Chocobars for all of us. I had begun to enjoy the interaction.

‘This nephew of yours teases me a lot in the class,’ she said, taking a bite of her ice-cream. She was smiling. Mahesh too smiled. I did not know where to hide my face.

‘Is that true?’ Naru mama asked, a little angry. ‘This is not good,’ he added in English.

‘Anyway, leave it!’ Sukdi said. ‘But he is really good in playing word games, especially those with film titles. You cannot beat him to it.’

I forced a smile on my face.

We walked back home, trying to keep in the shade. It was hot. I told Naru mama about her affair.

‘You should not tease her, ‘Naru mama said. ‘I admire her. You tease her yet she’s not afraid. She comes out to see the movie with her friend caring two hoots about the world. That’s real love. I must say: hats off to her. I liked her.’

Naru mama had a point. Sukdi was being honest about her relationship. I was worried Mahesh would bully me and I may have to resort to taking Surya’s help, but he had smiled and said nothing. My fears had been unfounded.

‘Listen! Remember one thing,’ Naru mama continued. ‘It is such progressive thinking people who take the nation ahead. Not the bespectacled, bookworms who are just buried in books. You need to support such people instead of teasing them.’

I did not understand what he said then but later on realized he was right. We used to tease her in the class all the time. I was told her father would beat her up regularly. Even the teachers taunted her often. Mahesh kept to his own affairs yet was beaten up by Surya and gang. But they did not bother about what others thought or said about them and that was remarkable. How would I feel if people teased me and Shirodkar? I promised myself not to tease Sukdi any more.

A
aisaheb had been on the lookout for a suitable bride for Naru mama and took the opportunity of his visit to show him one of the prospective brides. They visited her house. I was keen to tag along, but no one asked me. As per the original plan, Baba was to go, but he was happy to pass it up. Besides, Aaisaheb was superstitious and believed ‘three may spoil the party’. Ambabai suggested we call them over to our place, but Aaisaheb preferred not to. She did not want the people around to gossip. She preferred secrecy in such matters.

Naru mama did not like the girl. We had gone for a walk around the MIDC area when he confided he found her a sort of ‘kakubai’. Luckily Aaisaheb did not like her much either. Naru mama was safe for a while.