Shala (23 page)

W
e reached the railway station in the afternoon. The train was at half past four. Sir had booked the tickets in advance. We were in our uniform and everyone at the station stared at us. Adhav ma’am made the girls sit in the ladies compartment. I searched for Shirodkar and our eyes met. We all boarded the train. It would have been fun, though, to have them in our compartment as it wasn’t crowded. We sang songs all the way to our destination.

Kamat from Nine-C was with us. He is a very good singer. He is in the Lion team now, but was earlier in our group. He started singing songs, beginning with the Scouts’ songs and then as the crowd thinned he began singing Hindi film songs. Manjrekar sir sat on the bench next to us and raised his eyebrows when he sang ‘
Aaj kal tere mere pyar ke charche
.’ It was unfortunate that we reached our destination in the middle of the song. I loved that song. Chitre too was enjoying it. We decided to request Kamat to sing it again later.

The red and yellow state transport bus was waiting outside the station. We rushed to get in despite the teachers asking us to go in a line. Everyone tried to get in at the same time. The girls were not far behind. I barely managed not to collide with Shirodkar.

We had reached the steps at the same time and could not enter as the luggage on our backs came in the way. She giggled. The boys and girls were pushing us from behind and I laughed as well. I wished we could stand there stuck at the footboard forever. But then someone from behind gave us a push and we stumbled into the bus.

The bus was cramped and full. The locals did not find a seat as the boys and girls were all over. Most of the boys were sitting on someone’s lap. Many of us were standing. Shirodkar was standing next to me at the rear end of the bus. I was holding on to the rod above and her hand was very close to mine. Her face was partially hidden by her arm, but each time our eyes met, a sweet smile played on her lips. I tried to be nonchalant but could not avoid returning the smile each time. The road was bad and we would bump into each other every time the bus suffered a jerk. The boys and girls would laugh and we would join the laughter, for reasons known only to us.

‘Why are you smiling so?’ Chitre asked suspiciously.

‘Just like that,’ I said.

I wished the journey would go on forever. I was willing to travel all the way to Kanyakumari in this fashion, but we reached the village within fifteen or twenty minutes. The school was large—a huge playground surrounded by flat rows of classrooms on three sides. We were allotted the classrooms for our stay. Our teachers were wise; they had allotted the rooms on one side to the girls and the boys on the opposite. The girls could use the school toilets, but we would have to go outdoors into the fields.

The day passed by cleaning the rooms and arranging our things. We had carried food hence there was no need to cook that night. We were asked to sit on the ground. The girls were on the opposite side. It was getting dark, but I could see Shirodkar clearly. The teachers gave us a lot of instructions. No one was supposed to venture out anywhere near the dam. Anyone found doing so would be promptly sent back home. It was good that we did not have boys like Surya in the Scouts’ team. He would have been the first one to break the rules. There was a small pond behind the school, which was not out of bounds. We would have to collect water from there. We had plans for a bonfire after dinner, but we could not collect firewood and the plan had to be dropped.

The real camp began in the morning. Unfortunately the Guides’ team was away from us. Manjrekar sir went over with two boys to Sule village in the morning and got pao buns for all of us to have with tea. The tea was served in plastic cups giving out a faint plasticky smell. The morning was spent in classes where they taught us ways of tying different types of knots, using the whistle to signal, and so on, but we spent most of the time cooking.

The place was beautiful. The school was built on a hilly slope, with a pond in one corner. A huge dam lay on the other side of the hill. The entire area was wooded and, when we went to the hilltop to collect dry wood for our bonfire, we got a clear view of the dam. The blue water seemed cool despite the bright sun. We could see far into the distance. The entire area was barren, with a small tiled roof village on one side. The area was so huge and spread out that I wanted to go for a long walk around it. The hill was full of small shrubs with wild flowers. I plucked a bunch. Chitre was curious about whom I planned to give it to, but I said it was for the purpose of decoration. He too picked up a few bunches.

The girls’ rooms were a little far away, but the cooking done at a common place. The area near the pond was flat with a few large trees giving a cool shade in the hot afternoon. We roamed around the pond, picking up large stones for the chulhas. Chitre had the common sense to pick up some bricks from a construction site which we use to quickly set up our chulha. He then lit up the fire. We had Sadu Kale with us so we were not worried. We cut onions and potatoes while he made rotis. We then set up rice to cook on one stove while the other was used to make curry. Chitre managed to grind some chutney on a flat stone. By the time the girls got their stoves going, we were almost ready with our meal. Rajguru sir, walking around with his hands behind his back, told the girls, ‘Look at them! They have finished cooking.’

‘Huh! What’s so great about that? We too shall cook a nice meal,’ one of the birdies, Dongre, chirped. ‘Anybody can cook a meal, but what about taste?‘

‘Why don’t you taste it and see?’ Chitre challenged, removing the plate covering one of the vessels.

‘No need to,’ she said, gruffly turning away.

W
e were free to roam around now. The atmosphere was really relaxed. We were not in our uniforms and, although teachers were around, there were no classes to attend. Adhav and Pethe ma’am sat there, sipping endless cups of tea since morning. Manjrekar sir was talking to the teachers from that school and Rajguru sir roamed around the camp. No one bothered us.

The boys were cool as always, but the girls too had let their guard down. I could see the boys and girls of Nine-C talking to each other. The boys had helped them get a few buckets of water from the pond. There were more girls in nine-a as compared to the boys. Our class girls too were now interacting with the boys. I had seen that on the bus last evening. Teredesai and Shembekar had stood up and offered their seats to the birdies and they had given them some lemon flavoured hard-boiled toffees in return. They found some excuse or the other to chat with the boys since morning. One of the groups was short of dry wood and requested us to give them some for our cooking. Bibikar in the Tiger group was, as usual, trying to act smart. He borrowed some washing powder from the girls to clean the vessels.

The girls from Nine-C had set the ball rolling by speaking to the boys. Each one in the school wanted to mingle with the other sex, but the question was who would take the first step. No one wanted to get teased to death. No one knows who created such stupid rules. Naru mama says, in countries like England and America, no one bothers. Girls and boys talk to each other without a care. They can even sit on the same bench if they like. Boys like Surya would love to do that. I am sure the girls too feel the same, but who would bell the cat?

We sat down for lunch and the boys and girls exchanged their dishes, urging the other groups to taste. Our chutney was immensely popular and we had hardly any left for our own selves. Kamat’s group had made besan curry and all hell broke loose when the birdies announced that they had got some pickles from home. Dongre was on the verge of tears seeing her pickle disappear in minutes. Shirodkar stood up and handed over a plate to us without saying a word. It had some vegetable curry, similar to the one we had prepared. Sadu, Gaitonde, Memane and some boys were clueless, but Chitre gave me a knowing smile. The curry tasted divine. She had added some fresh coconut to it. Their group must have brought some freshly grated coconut from home.

There was a decoration competition in the afternoon and Chitre came up with a bright idea to pluck small branches from trees and label them as per their botanical names. Bibikar tried copying the same but fell flat. We bagged the first prize. The girls roamed around in groups inspecting what the other groups had done. We had free time in the evening and there were some matches between the boys and girls. We played the langdi game, with one leg folded. I was hoping Shirodkar would play against me, but I was up against that long-legged Pandhre from Nine-C who pulled me down in a matter of seconds.

That evening Manjrekar sir came up with the idea of preparing a common meal. We borrowed some huge vessels from the school and the chowkidar helped us light a big fire. The boys were given the task of making rice while the girls opted for dal. Chitre casually announced that we need not be a part of the process and could excuse ourselves. We asked Kamat to come along and enjoyed his songs sitting on the bank of the canal.

In the evening, all the girls and boys sat around the campfire in a huge circle. Sir had noticed that we had managed to slip out of the meal duty and promptly ordered us to wash the vessels. We were a little late by the time we finished and joined the group around the bonfire. There was no place in the ring. Chitre and I were forced to sit next to Adhav ma’am. I was fuming but had no choice but to sit quietly. The bonfire was bright, but the circle around it was so big I could not see people’s faces clearly.

The girls started some stupid ‘chain song’ game wherein you go on adding one line every time and repeating the whole song at the same time. The boys soon got bored of it and Sir asked us to stop. We then sang a few other songs. Sir sang one sung by the local fishermen. The tune was catchy and the chorus ‘
jhim gale gale jhim…jhim gale gale….’
was soothing making one drowsy. I could imagine myself swaying gently as the fishermen rowed the boat back to the shore after a hard day’s work.

Adhav ma’am got up and returned in a while with the teachers from the local school. We were asked to squeeze in closer to make space for them. The teachers sang a local song for us. The bonfire was burning, but the brightness had reduced considerably now. I looked up to see the sky. It was filled with stars. It was not cold, but a pleasant wind was blowing gently. I felt something fall near my thighs. It seemed to have been thrown from the side where the girls sat. I looked down to see a Ravalgaon toffee lying there. I glanced up and was shocked to death to see Shirodkar sitting next to me. When I looked, she continued to stare at the bonfire as if nothing had happened. But I could see her faint smile in the mild light of the fire.

I grabbed the toffee and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. The boys were busy listening to the teachers singing, but Chitre had noticed. He said, ‘What is it, buddy? What’s going on?’

I was forced to show him the toffee. He exclaimed, ‘Good progress!’

I was terribly embarrassed. But I was feeling good too. I did not know what to do. On one hand I was keen to preserve the toffee and keep it in my pocket, but on the other there was a danger of being caught by the others.

‘Do you want to share it?’ I asked Chitre.

‘No. You eat it,’ he said, smiling.

T
he next day we were to depart after lunch, but no one felt like leaving. Sir had called for a feedback session an hour before departure. Teredesai was the first to speak up.

‘Sir, what if we have our school permanently based here? It would be so much fun,’ he said.

‘Yes, Sir,’ the birdies chirped in. ‘We don’t want to go back. Teach us here.’

Everyone felt the same. No one was teasing anyone else. We were happily chatting with everyone. Even when Deosthale threw up in the morning, no one sniggered and, in fact, when Phatak from Nine-C got some cloves for her to chew on, no one teased him. The distance between the boys and girls had disappeared, and we felt as if we all knew each other for ages.

‘Sir, why can’t we have a school without walls?’ Kamat asked. ‘We don’t mind cooking.’

‘It is so nice and open here,’ Gaitonde commented.

‘Yes Sir,’ the birdies chirped. ‘We should have a school like this one. We will never trouble you.’

Manjrekar sir smiled.

‘I agree with you, but my hands are tied,’ he said. ‘When you grow up, you should build a school like this one.’

T
he next day I was in a dual mood wanting to go and yet felt like staying back alone. It was a Monday and we had decided to meet at our adda. Surya and others would have returned from their NCC camp, and we were waiting to hear their exploits.

I left a little before eleven. I was planning to take the route through the paddy fields but changed my mind and went by the main road. Walking past Shriram Flour Mill I noticed some posters stuck high up on the wall above it. The message was loud and clear—‘Emergency Murdabad! Down With Dictatorship!’ The black and red letters on the white paper were clearly visible from a distance. The bhaiya managing the flour mill was oblivious to the posters and was busy grinding wheat in the mill. I then understood the meaning of Ambabai’s whisperings this morning. She had spotted the posters while returning from a friend’s place. ‘They are everywhere,’ she was telling Aaisaheb in a low voice. When I asked her what she meant, she snubbed me saying, ‘Why are you so curious? It’s none of your business.’

The posters were in many prominent places—on the dustcart, on the electric transformer, on the wall near the shops, on some fences, and one on the wall of Chowdhary bungalow. Someone had tried tearing it off. There was one on Surya’s building too.

When I reached our adda, I saw Chitre and Surya looking at the poster. Surya said, ‘Just see these posters—Emergency Murdabad! Down With Dictatorship! It is fun, bhenchod!’

‘They are up all over town—even near the station,’ Chitre said. ‘The police are removing them.’

‘But who put them up?’ asked Surya.

‘‘Who knows?’ Chitre said. ‘Someone has dared to.’

‘There are a few on the wall of Mokshadham too,’ I added.