Shala (19 page)

W
e were at our adda the next morning. Phawdya and Surya had arrived early. Chitre came in with a long face. He seemed to have cried a lot and quietly sat down in one corner.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

He just shook his head.

‘What happened? Why the long face?’ I asked again. He did not answer.

‘Ichibhana, what is the problem?’ Surya asked. ‘Did someone confront you while coming here? Tell me. I will go bash him up right away.’

‘Was there an argument at home?’ I asked.

That was the reason. He nodded his head in the affirmative but did not say anything. He was trying to hold back his tears.

‘So what’s new?’ Phawdya said.

‘Aai is threatening to leave the house,’ he said. And then the tears flowed.

We were stunned. We had never seen him cry. It was a known fact that his parents argued, every now and then. I mean, that was the case everywhere. Baba would keep quiet in my house, else every argument would have led to a fight. Chitre would often talk of the arguments but had never broken down like this.

‘There was a bad argument this morning,’ Chitre said. ‘Aai did not even bother to make tea this morning. I prepared the milk for Raju. The arguments were going on since morning. I left without eating anything.’

‘Ichibhana, why didn’t you say that earlier?’ Surya asked. ‘Come, let us go and have a wada pav.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I added. ‘Things will be okay by evening.’

‘I don’t think so,’ he said, wiping his tears on his sleeve. ‘Aai said she’s sick of this bickering and that she will leave the house. She has never spoken like this earlier.’

I did not say anything. Chitre’s aai was very nice but stubborn. Not like Aaisaheb. Aaisaheb would say a lot but not do anything. I could not say the same about Chitre’s mother.

‘They were least bothered about the science exhibition today,’ Chitre added, his eyes filling up again. ‘They did not even bother to ask. They were busy arguing.’

‘But why was your aai so upset?’ Surya asked.

‘She does not like it when Daddy drinks.’

‘Ichibhana, you should ask her to have a look at my house,’ Surya said. ‘The other day my father came in drunk and then he did not care to see where he was hitting my mother. He broke her bangles, you know?’

‘It was the same story in our home too,’ Phawdya said. ‘That’s why my father died early.’

‘All parents are the same,’Surya said. ‘They care a fuck about the children. Why do they produce them in the first place, bhenchod?’

‘I don’t feel like doing anything now,’ Chitre said. ‘I don’t want anything—this house, this school, this exhibition.’

I kept quiet for a while and then glanced at my watch. Zende sir had asked us to come in early. He would allow one class at a time to see the exhibition. But Chitre seemed to be in no mood to go to school.

‘Come, let us go. Sir has asked us to come early.’

Chitre finally relented when everyone coaxed him. Surya and Phawdya went to the class and we entered the laboratory hall. We were to stand behind the counter and explain the experiment to the students. Everyone seemed excited and was waiting expectantly for the crowds to stream in. Only Chitre’s face was downcast.

The exhibition opened in some time and the students started coming in. Chitre perked up a little when he saw a large crowd entering. Luckily this time, Appa had not arranged any ‘opening ceremony’. There were no guests and hence no speeches, else people like Prem Chopra and Narvekar ma’am would get a chance to show off. Each class got half an hour to see the display. The other classes continued as usual.

‘The railway signal is a complex system,’ Chitre began explaining his set-up. ‘This prevents trains from colliding with each other. Imagine a train stopping at a station while another one is coming in, close behind.’

We would then get one engine into the station and the signal would automatically turn red. We would move the engine out of the station and the signal would turn green. We had to place the engines with our hands, but the other things happened automatically. Chitre’s mama had got the railway set from one of his trips abroad. The students enjoyed our display so much they were reluctant to move away from our table.

Then Kevda came in with her class. She stood at the back and allowed the other girls to gather at the table. I saw her smiling to herself when Chitre was busy explaining the set up to the girls. She must have seen the set-up at Chitre’s place. Chitre must have shown it to her. Chitre did not bother to glance in her direction, but it was clear to me that something was brewing between them.

‘Line clear?’ Chitre said, taking the engine on to one side.

‘Line clear,’ I repeated, trying to suppress my smile.

The pun was lost on the eighth standard girls, who were busy gawking at the engine and the experiment.

Then the boys and girls from our class streamed in. Quite obviously, the boys gathered around our table. Bibikar and Ghasu Gokhale were jealous of Chitre and deliberately went around looking at other experiments. Surya picked up the engine and Phawdya poked around trying to check the lights. The boys refused to move and crowded around the place. The girls were left behind until Barve ma’am came to their rescue.

When the girls gathered around our table, Chitre said, ‘Joshi, you explain everything. I will have a glass of water in the meanwhile.’

‘No! It is your experiment. You need to explain. I will take a break instead.’

But the girls were there before either of us could move. We explained the set-up without meeting their eyes. Shirodkar stood a little behind. I dared not look at her. The birdies had many questions. Mirikar asked, ‘What happens if the signal does not function properly? ’

‘Then there will be an accident,’ Chitre said, a little irritated. ‘Just ensure that you are not on that train, okay?’

Mirikar was upset, but the other girls laughed out loud. Finally ma’am had to come to shoo them away. While leaving, Sukdi managed to snidely remark, ‘The engines are fine, but the drivers seem to be shy.’

The girls were streaming out one by one. Chitre was busy fixing some screw, which had come loose. I saw Shirodkar leave at the end. She slowed down a bit and then said, almost in a whisper, ‘Very nice!’

I looked around. Chitre was bent below the table finding the loose screw, which had fallen off the table. The other groups were busy with their own experiments. No one had noticed our brief exchange. I was stunned. I had not expected her to speak to me. It meant that she was not at all angry with me. I was shivering from head to toe.

I floated on air the rest of the day. Our throats were parched having spoken the whole day and our legs were aching. Luckily they gave us some snacks at noon. We were dead tired by evening. But I imagined a totally different scenario—only Kevda and Shirodkar had come to see the exhibition. We then took them for a ride in the two engines, through dense jungles, by the bank of rivers, over the empty plains. Our engines ran fast, bellowing smoke and letting out shrill whistles. We did not stop at any station or halt at any signal. The whole world spread out before us welcoming us, into its arms.

U
ntil the science exhibition, I had not dared to look at Shirodkar. Not that I had not seen her at all but not in the way I used to do earlier. I would try to find an opportunity and quickly glance at her. But when she spoke to me at the exhibition I realized that she was not angry with me. In fact, she had been looking at me when I was not aware. I had caught her a few times doing that. Girls, in any case, do not look at boys directly. They look through the corner of their eyes. I had seen Shirodkar do that. Not looking in the general direction of the boys—but specifically at me. But the moment I caught her doing that, she would look straight ahead.

But I could not meet her again near the peepal tree. I was scared of the darkness now. If she saw me there again she was likely to get very upset. And then the whole thing might end. I did not want that. I had worked hard to get it to this level and could not afford to ruin it. As Naru mama says, one needs to cultivate patience.

T
hen the days of matches arrived. Classes are not held during those days. We have cricket and kabaddi matches. No one plays kho-kho. Our girls play kabaddi, but we don’t have any guys good enough for the game. It is fun to watch the girls play. There are more boys than girls watching whenever there is a girls’ match. The girls wear shorts and those who do not have brothers borrow the shorts from the other boys in the class. Normally the request is made in the presence of a teacher so there is no way the boys can refuse. Those who have to lend their shorts feel it would have been better for the earth to have swallowed them than face the embarrassment of lending one’s shorts to the girls. Surya is the first person to grab his place whenever there is a girls’ match. His favourite fantasy is to see a kabaddi match between the girls and boys.

The individual competitions are held in the playground. Surya and Phawdya participate in the races. Bibikar, Ghasu Gokhale, Teredesai and other nerds do not participate in the games. In a bid to impress Zende sir, Bibikar asked, ‘Sir, when are the matches starting?’ Zende sir looked at him and commented, ‘Bibikar, never ask directions for the town you don’t intend to visit.’

Bibikar got upset and decided to participate in every event. The chess tournament was being held this year too, but I decided not to participate. Bibikar has learnt it recently and thinks he is another Bobby Fischer. He was the first one to volunteer. The only girl to participate was Mirikar.

‘Joshi, why don’t you participate?’ Chitre asked.

‘Leave it!’ I said. ‘I don’t want to compete against those smarties.’

‘Ichibhana, Joshi, why don’t you play, saale? You play so well,’ Surya said, poking me with his pencil tip and then got up and announced, ‘Ma’am, Joshi wants to participate.’

‘Why are you proposing his name?’ Ma’am asked. ‘Can’t he speak for himself?’

I was planning to decline when I glanced at Shirodkar. Her eyes seemed to be saying, ‘go ahead’. The phrase, ‘fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds’ rang in my mind. I imagined Bibikar playing against me. The decision was simple. I raised my hand.

‘Joshi,’ Ma’am said, noting down my name in her register. ‘Anyone else?’

The matches began. We may not win in kabaddi, but no one can lay a hand on us in cricket. Chitre and Phawdya began to practise in right earnest. We were up against Nine-C in the first round. Phawdya took two wickets in the very first over and another one in the next. That was the beginning of the end. We bowled them out at a mere twenty-six runs.

Halbe sir supervises the chess tournaments. He took out the draw as per international rules and then put up the chart on the notice board. Most of the participants were boys; there were very few girls. They did not have separate draws. I had Ninave from class ten in the first round and then Tivre from eight for the next. Ninave did not know how to play and I routed him in fifteen minutes. Tivre was a smart guy and I initially assumed that he did not know the game. But when he threatened my bishop in the fourth move, I was alert. He was on the verge of tears when he lost. ‘How did you, of all people, land up against me?’ he asked. I was feeling bad. Had it been someone other than me, he would have reached the semi-finals.

The next round was against Mirikar. She had won the earlier round against a girl from eighth standard. She got a walkover in the next round as Keluskar from nine-d did not turn up. I was stunned. So were the other boys. ‘Where did this female land up from?’ Phawdya muttered. Her confidence level was high and she was now dreaming of becoming the champion. The girls were there to cheer her.

‘I’ll play white,’ she said the moment we sat down to play. It was to be decided by a toss but I let it be.

We began to play.

The moment she moved the knight pawn as an opening gambit, I knew that she did not know the game. She made more mindless moves.

‘Gokhale has not come in, yaar,’ Surya observed, throwing a glance at her. I glanced up to look at the girls. Shirodkar was there amongst the crowd. She must have been watching me, but the moment I looked up, she lowered her eyes.

‘Your bishop is in danger,’ I warned Mirikar.

‘Really?’

‘Look where my knight is,’ I said, tapping on the knight’s head.

‘Aiyaa! I did not notice,’ she said, biting her tongue. ‘Can I take it back?’

‘Okay,’ I said.

She then made another blunder moving it to B7. I thought one warning would be enough, but she had no clue and moved her bishop ahead.

‘Don’t move it there,’ I said. ‘If I take your pawn, it would be a check to your King and you will have to lose your bishop.’

‘Aiyaa! You are right,’ she repeated, biting her tongue again. ‘Can I take it back, please?’

I nodded and then glanced at the girls. Had I finished the game in ten or fifteen moves, they would have got disappointed and left in a huff. I had no plans to make such blunders, not when Shirodkar was watching.

I allowed her to play a little more. She copied me when I castled, but she had left a gaping hole. ‘Do you realize if I sacrifice my knight after taking yours, you stand to lose you bishop?’ I asked her and then glanced at the crowd.

‘Chhi! What am I doing?’ she muttered.

‘Hey, play properly,’ one of the birdies chirped.

‘Hey, call Gokhale quickly,’ Surya commented.

Mirikar put her bishop back, but she had no idea how to progress. My defence was strong.

‘What shall I do now?’ she asked me.

‘Move your pawn forward,’ I said, thinking for a moment. ‘Then either my knight or bishop would be threatened.’

‘Yes, yes. That’s correct,’ she said. ‘I wonder why I never thought of it.’

She was clueless and I could have easily routed her. But I decided to let her continue. Everyone, except Mirikar, knew that I was playing along. I glanced up to see Shirodkar smiling.

I allowed Mirikar to take my knight and another pawn. I was enjoying the game now. I was no more part of the chess game. I felt like a large-hearted emperor who believed in forgiving rather than killing those who surrendered before him. ‘Go! I give your kingdom back to you.’ The emperor in me would dismiss the surrendered foe with a wave of the hand. I would return to the capital with my huge army. There would be someone waiting for me, with her eyes shining like two lamps—waiting for me with a traditional tray and an oil lamp to welcome me home!