Shala (35 page)

‘Don’t cry,’ Baba said, hugging me. He then took out his handkerchief and wiped my tears. We stood there for a while and then walked to school.

The morning batch was yet to get over and the classes were in full swing. I could hear the students reciting a poem in one class. The playground was empty. It felt like I had walked into a different school.

While walking towards Appa’s room, we met Prem Chopra on the way. He was probably not aware of the issue and arched his eyebrows enquiringly seeing me with Baba. Baba did not react and I kept my head down. Ganoba was sitting outside Appa’s room on a bench.

‘Is the Headmaster in?’ Appa asked.

‘Yes. He is in,’ Ganoba said. That fellow knew what had happened, in any case.

Kevda’s father was present when we stepped in. She stood in one corner. Appa stood up seeing Baba and said, ‘Joshi saheb, please come in. Take a seat.’

I was not sure what I was supposed to do—whether to stand there or wait outside. But I did not want to go out on my own. My heart was beating hard. Luckily Baba rescued me saying, ‘You wait outside.’

I went out. There was space on Ganoba’s bench, but I did not sit there. I stood reading the notices on the bulletin board. Luckily Appa’s door is covered with a curtain. Earlier there was a swinging wooden door, which would squeak every time someone passed through. They later replaced it with a curtain.

Surya came in soon, followed by his father. I could not recognize him! His face was swollen and looked black and blue. His eyes were half-shut and there was a bump on his forehead. He had applied some kind of cream on the swollen area. He was limping and looked weak. I was scared to death seeing his condition. His father was wearing his usual white shirt and trousers. The shirt buttons near the neck were open, as always. A gold chain hung around his neck. His eyes, as usual, were red.

‘Is the master in?’ he asked in his gruff voice.

‘Yes, yes,’ Ganoba said, getting up hurriedly. He moved the curtain aside for him to step in. He did not step in immediately. He stood there and folded his hands in namaskar when Appa responded, ‘Come in, come in, Mhatre sheth’. He then removed his chappals and walked in.

Surya stayed back outside with me. Kevda joined us soon. She was taken aback seeing Surya’s condition. She looked at us, but we did not say anything. She then went and sat next to Ganoba, fiddling with the handkerchief.

We could hear snatches of the conversation inside. Appa was recounting the episode while Kevda’s father intervened a few times. The voices were not very clear. Then Surya’s father said in a loud voice, ‘But, Sir, do you know the punishment I have given to that fellow? I bashed him well and proper. You have not seen him?’ He shouted looking at the door, ‘Come in!’

We heard him but did not move. Appa rang the bell on his table. Ganoba stood up saying, ‘You have been asked to go in.’ My chest was pounding. To be fair, Surya alone had been summoned, but I accompanied him.

‘See! I have given him a nice treatment with my fists and legs,’ Surya’s father said, nudging Kevda’s father ahead to observe Surya clearly. ‘Teasing girls, eh? If you want I will hammer him again. Sir, give me your cane.’

Appa did not oblige.

‘Leave it.’

‘Don’t leave it. We cannot leave it. I will kill this bastard.’

‘Leave it, Mhatre sheth. Leave it,’ Appa repeated.

Surya’s state was evident. He stood there, his head down and legs bent a little.

‘There is no point in beating him up,’ Kevda’s father said. ‘These boys are thick-skinned. They are used to beatings. We need to hand them over to the police. They can be cured only in a remand home.’

Baba was silent until then, but hearing Kevda’s father, he said in a clear voice, ‘Gupte saheb, do you think our boys are orphans?’

That stopped Kevda’s father in his tracks. Appa and Surya’s father looked at Baba.

‘Then what do you suggest?’ Kevda’s father was agitated. ‘These guys dare to hold a girl’s hand in broad daylight. What should one do? Should that not be taken care of?’

‘Just a moment!’ Baba said. His voice was clear and steady. ‘I agree the boy made a mistake. But he did not hold her hand. Ask her.’

Kevda was called in. She went and stood near her father, her head bent.

‘Beti, don’t be afraid.’ Appa said. ‘Tell me clearly. What happened there?’

‘I was on the way to school when I saw him standing on the road. He asked me whether I would come out with him and I said no.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘He turned back and went away.’

‘Did he hold your hand?’ Baba asked.

‘No.’

‘Was he standing a few feet away?’

‘Yes.’

‘See?’ Baba remarked. ‘It is not what you are making it out to be.’

‘Did he not hold your hand?’ Appa asked.

Kevda shook her head.

‘Then why did you say he held her hand?’ Appa asked her father.

‘Perhaps he did not hold her hand. But it does not change the situation.’

‘No. I don’t think so,’ Baba said, his voice steady. He turned towards us and said, ‘You go and stand outside.’

We went out but stood near the curtain. We could hear everything being discussed inside.

‘I agree the boys have made a mistake,’ Baba said. ‘But we need to clearly understand the mistake. He asked whether she loves him. She said no. That’s it! Did he trouble her further? No.’

‘It is not as flippant as you are making it out to be,’ Kevda’s father said, his voice loud and angry.

‘I agree,’ Baba said. ‘But there is no point in stretching it further. They are at a confused age. Children err, but that does not mean we throw them into jail for such mistakes.’

We wanted to hear more, but Ganoba realized what we were up to and asked us to move away. Kevda too had come out of the room. Ganoba indicated to the bench and said, ‘Sit there.’

We could not hear the discussion any further.

Baba and Surya’s father came out after quite a wait. We stood up on seeing them. They walked down the corridor and stepped down into the playground. We followed them. Baba walked a few steps and then said, as we approached them, ‘What time does your school begin?’

‘Twelve-forty,’ I said.

‘You are carrying your books, aren’t you? Go and sit in your class. And focus on your studies, okay? You cannot be pardoned every time, understood?’

We nodded and continued to look down. Baba looked at Surya and then, putting his arm around Surya’s father’s shoulder, said, ‘Mhatre sheth, you should not beat up your son like this. We need to explain things to them. Your son is a tiger. Don’t treat him like dirt.’

Surya’s father looked at Surya for a while and suddenly burst out crying. ‘Saheb, what can I tell you?’ he said. ‘I lost my mind last night. I did not know what to do. Luckily his mother stepped in, else I might have killed him.’

‘Please pull yourself together. Things cannot be resolved with physical punishment alone.’

‘He is my only son,’ Surya’s father said, wiping his tears. ‘I never went to school. Should he not study sincerely? But look at his antics!’

‘He will learn to study,’ Baba said. ‘But don’t beat him up unnecessarily. Else you will lose him forever. Go, both of you. And go to your class directly, okay?’

They left. Kevda and her father came out. She was wearing her school uniform but was not carrying her books. We ignored her. We went and sat down in the wooded area. The morning batch was yet to get over. The shade felt cool. We both sat there for a while without saying a word.

‘Did you get a lot of beating?’ I asked. ‘What did you tell your father?’

‘He was out to kill me,’ Surya said. ‘I went home and told him that he had been asked to come to school. That’s it! He started beating me up. He stopped when a customer came to buy some sand. I thought I had a lucky escape, but he beat me up again at night.’

I inspected his hands and feet. He must have been in great pain. He had red marks all over his arms and legs.

‘He beat me with whatever he could lay his hands on,’ Surya said. ‘First he hit me with his hands and then with his belt. Then he picked up a stick and then a bamboo. Aai intervened, but she too got a few kicks. Luckily kaka came in and saved both of us. I was lucky not to have broken any bones.’

I did not know what to say. There was a bitter taste in my mouth. The whole thing had turned ugly.

‘What will Appa do now?’ Surya asked.

‘Nothing. What else is there to do now?’

‘Won’t he throw us out of school?’

‘Tchah! Nothing of that sort.’

‘Ichibhana, why did Kevda’s father get so angry?’

I had no answer. He had asked a valid question, but I had no way of knowing why.

‘I am confused. I don’t know what mistake we made, Ichibhana? We had just asked her. What is wrong with asking?’

I had no answer to his question. He was absolutely right. But there was no way to know a girl’s mind. We sat there for a while, lost in our own thoughts. I felt sad for Surya. I could see the school boys on the ground now, but I did not feel like mingling with them. I did not feel like attending classes either. But there was no choice. It was sad that this had to happen at the fag end of the year. A deep sense of sadness filled me.

The morning batch got over. The boys had already gone into the classrooms. We did not feel like getting up.

‘I don’t feel like attending school today,’ Surya said. ‘I wish I could lie down here.’

I felt the same but knew it was not possible. All the teachers would be looking out for us. And if we bunked, that would be the end of it.

The bell rang and we reluctantly stood up, dusting our trousers.

Surya said, ‘Ichibhana, your advice turned out to be expensive.’

I felt a lump in my throat.

W
e knew what to expect in the class. Most of the boys were shocked to see Surya’s condition. Paranjpe ma’am came in and the boys did not get a chance to talk. The girls saw him and began whispering amongst themselves. Shirodkar too joined them. She turned back to glance and our eyes met briefly. I thought she wanted to ascertain whether I too had been beaten up. But I could see no hint of recognition in her eyes. Surya sat hiding behind the boys, but ma’am spotted him when she saw the girls turning back to look at him. She asked, ‘What happened? Did you have a fight?’ The poor soul had no idea what Surya had gone through.

Surya had no answer. He sat there with his head down. Bendre ma’am came in next. All the teachers asked the same question of Surya. Later, during the mid-break, they must have got the details in the staff room. Zende sir came near him to inspect the wounds but did not comment.

The next few classes continued as usual, but our mind was elsewhere. Everything seemed lost—like a painting spoilt when you spill water on it accidentally. Earlier we used to be relaxed in the class. No one would dare answer back at us. But now we felt like hiding our faces. Zende sir cracked some jokes and Halbe sir, as usual, lost track of himself trying to solve some equations, but we did not feel like laughing. I sat there like a criminal, trying to avoid the teachers. I could see the hills beyond the playground, but they seemed to have taken on a dull, grey haze, like a rainless cloud. I was dreading the mid-break. All the boys would surround us and bombard us with umpteen questions. Guys like Bibikar, Ghasu Gokhale and Teredesai would express false sympathies but would be secretly happy about our pathetic state. They would be pleased that we had been taught a lesson. We went and sat in the wooded area but did not enjoy sitting there. Surya started describing the way his father beat him up, but no one encouraged him to continue. I was eager to go back to the class so that I could escape talking to anyone. I somehow managed to spend the next few hours and then walked back home through the paddy fields. I realized that Chitre had not spoken a word to me on his own and that Shirodkar had not once glanced at me.

When I reached home I found that Aaisaheb had kept the tea and biscuits ready on the table. Ambabai had gone off somewhere. Baba was not there. Aaisaheb seemed to be in a decent mood. Baba must have told her everything. He must have asked her not to trouble me any more. She did not say anything while I finished my tea but then stood up saying,

‘Take your books and get down to studying right away. You don’t have tuition, isn’t it? There is no need to go out anywhere. Study till dinner time, understood?’

She did not seem angry, but her tone prevented me from saying anything. I wanted to step out and walk around Shirodkar’s house on the pretext of meeting Chitre. But I dropped the idea. Luckily Aaisaheb had not told me which subject to study. I put my head down keeping the History book open. I could not concentrate. Nikam kaka’s TV was blaring away at full volume. But then Napoleon took the better of me and I concentrated on the task at hand.

S
chool ran for another week. There was no question of going to the adda now. Surya’s father had locked the room upstairs and the teacher who had taken the lower room on rent had now started taking tuitions there. We walked on our own to school without any pranks on the way. Chitre and Phawdya often came in together. We had the Scouts’ exam on Saturday. The Guides’ had their exams too on the same day, but the girls sat far away.

The teachers completed their syllabus and started revisions. Appa announced a free period once and made the entire school sing songs dedicated to Emergency. Then he gave us the usual lecture on how we should focus on our studies because the exams were approaching. It was the last period and everyone was bored. So we tolerated it in silence. The tension of the impending exams was evident. The birdies were spending the mid-breaks immersed in textbooks. Shirodkar continued to be indifferent. No one played any pranks. We had decided to spend the rest of the days quietly.

On the last day of school, I stepped out of home on an excuse to visit Chitre. I reached the lane leading to Shirodkar’s house and walked about slowly. The window in her verandah was open, but I could not see anyone. I was taking another round when I saw Sandeep. He had probably come out to collect some stones. But he did not look at the gate. For a moment I thought of visiting them. After all, I had already been there once. No one would object and I would be able to meet her. I could spend some time talking to her mother even if Shirodkar was not there. I was sure she would not have mentioned the Kevda episode to anyone at home. But I could not get myself to open the gate and step in. My heart was beating wildly and the hollow in my stomach grew. I had to meet her—at least once before the exams. I had to tell her what exactly had happened—that I was not at fault. But I could not see her. I walked up and down her lane a few times and, when darkness fell, I walked back home.