Shala (28 page)

She laughed again. She must have understood.

‘I don’t understand all this,’ she said.

I wondered how I could elaborate. I wanted to tell her that we were still in class nine and we had quite a few years to go. We needed to be together. There were a hundred things I wanted to say. But the question was—how to say?

‘How is your Akka?’ I asked, changing the topic.

‘Akka? She’s fine. Why?’

‘I mean, what is she like?’

‘She’s fine,’ she said. ‘But why do you ask?’

‘No. Just like that,’ I said.

‘There was a singing competition in her college. She got a prize there.’

‘Really? That’s great,’ I said. ‘Our Ambabai is no good. If she starts singing, everyone will run away.’

‘Why do you ridicule your sister so?’

I could have spoken about Ambabai for hours. But then seeing her reaction, I shut up. I wondered how to continue the conversation.

‘Your dress suits you,’ I said.

‘Aiyaa! It is such an old one,’ she said, smiling.

I realized while speaking to her that I was trying to grasp that elusive ‘something’ which enveloped us. We stood there surrounded by a fog binding us together. I could sense it but not catch it.

We were lost in our own world and I did not notice an old woman walking towards us. She was holding a bag which seemed pretty heavy as she walked with slow steps. I decided to ignore her keeping my head down. But she was watching us as she walked towards us. It was Ponkshe kaku! She recognized me the moment she came near us. She would recognize me in the middle of the night in pitch darkness too.

‘It’s Mukund, is it?’ she asked, coming closer. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Nothing. Just chatting,’ I said.

‘Chatting? And who is she?’ she asked, looking at Shirodkar carefully.

Where the hell did this Ponkshe kaku land up from? And what was she doing here so far away from home in the evening?

‘She’s in my class,’ I said. ‘And what brought you this side of the town?’

‘In your class? Arre, but what are you both doing here—that too in this darkness?’

‘Nothing. Just talking. Where are you returning from?’ I tried changing the topic.

‘I had gone visiting the Gharpures. Their daughter-in-law gave me some fresh vegetables. She asked me to take this route. So where are you headed?’

‘Home,’ I blurted.

‘Going home, is it? Beta, then carry this bag home for me. I have to drop in at Khatavkar Aaji’s place on the way. I don’t want to carry this and answer her barrage of questions.’

Oh god! I was now being forced to carry her bag home. I looked at Shirodkar, but her face did not betray any emotion.

‘No, Kaku. I have to go a friend’s house from here. I would be late.’

‘Let it be. You are going home from here, isn’t it?’

I was desperately looking for an escape route.

‘No. I have to visit another friend from here. I will be very late.’

‘Look at today’s children,’ she mumbled to herself. ‘They have time to chat standing in this darkness but not help an old lady like me. Now I have to lug this bag around.’

She walked away towards the Devgiri bungalow. I kept looking at her for a while.

‘Who was she?’ Shirodkar asked.

‘Our neighbour Ponkshe kaku.’

‘What’s wrong with carrying her bag?’

It then dawned on me. I had committed a blunder I should have volunteered to take the bag home. She would complain to Aaisaheb now and would report to her about my standing here and talking to some girl. She would exaggerate and make a mountain out of a molehill. Shirodkar was right. I should have taken the bag. For a moment, I thought of running after her and asking for the bag. But it was too late. She was already far away.

‘It’s fine. She’s quite a nag, actually,’ I said, putting an end to the discussion.

But her arrival had broken our chain of conversation.

‘We should not stand here,’ she said. ‘Shall I go now?’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘If you reach early, won’t your mother get suspicious?’

‘Suspicious?’ she asked, and started laughing. ‘I will tell her my class got over early.’

‘What if she asks what took you so long?’

‘So what? I will tell her I was chatting.’

‘With whom?’

‘What do you mean “with whom”? I will say with Juvekar; and then with you.’

I was jealous of her. There was no way I could have told this so casually to Aaisaheb and Ambabai. They would make my life hell.

‘What is the plan tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow? What about tomorrow?’

‘There is no class tomorrow,’ I said. ‘Will you meet me?’

She thought for a moment.

‘But there is no class tomorrow, isn’t it?’ she asked.

I wondered how to tell her, the very fact that there was no class made it easy for us to meet.

‘I won’t be able to come tomorrow,’ she said. ‘And we should not stand here and talk.’

‘Then where?’

‘Will you come home?’

‘Home?’ I felt I was floating in air.

‘Yes. Why not? Come home and we can sit and talk.’

My chest was pounding away. Land up at her home! She had asked me earlier too. And isn’t that what Naru mama used to advise all the time? But listening to his advice was different from actually following it. I could take the chance, but if the school mates come to know of it, I would be dead meat. I was at a loss for words. But I could not refuse.

‘What will you tell your mother?’

‘I will tell her you are my class fellow.’

‘Won’t she object?’

‘What do you mean? My Akka’s friends come home. What is so different?’

My chest continued to pound. The feeling of emptiness in the pit of my stomach grew deeper. The very thought of visiting her home was beautiful. I could not believe my ears.

‘So, will you come?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I said, finally getting the courage to say so.

‘What time?’

‘Same time as our class?’

‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘I will go now.’

‘Will you wait for me outside?’ I said. I did not want her to leave.

She nodded and smiled again, without saying a word.

‘Wait a little more,’ I said. I had to say much more. I had not yet said what I wanted to. I had frittered away all the time.

‘I think of you all the time at home,’ I said, steeling myself. My heart was beating hard when I said that, but then there was also an enormous sense of relief.

I knew her response. She would give me that knowing smile and then leave immediately. And that smile would be heavenly. And that’s what happened!

I
was floating high up in the air. I felt like I was on top of the Everest. Everything below was hidden in the mist. I did not go home immediately. I looked at my watch—there were twenty minutes for the class to get over. Ambabai would be suspicious if I reached early. I could not tell her the class had been cancelled. I normally reach home a little late, hanging out with friends after class. For a moment, I thought of spending time at Phawdya’s vegetable shop, but there was a danger of being spotted there by Ambabai or one of her many friends. I decided to visit Chitre. He was busy experimenting with some gears from a wristwatch. I went home after spending some time with him.

I was nervous when I reached home. I was not sure what Ponkshe kaku would have told Aaisaheb. She may not have come and complained immediately but the danger remained. I was lost in thought when Aaisaheb served me dinner. When she asked me whether I wanted some more subji, I nodded yes, much to Ambabai’s surprise. The vegetable in question was the mushy bottlegourd, which otherwise I don’t care much for. I spent some time outside, watching a few chess games. I had kept my Algebra textbook open as an alibi for my studies.

The next day at school was what I was really worried about. We had taken care of Bibikar, so I was sure the boys would not dare to tease me, but there was no guarantee of what the girls would do. There was no way of stopping them. They had earlier teased Ambekar and Sukdi. And girls like Mande would be waiting for a chance to tease Shirodkar. They would not allow such a golden opportunity to go by.

I decided to keep a low profile in the first three periods. The birdies were chattering away as usual while some of the smarties like Bibikar and Ghasu Gokhale were in their elements but, much to my relief, no untoward incident happened. But in the next class, which was Zende sir’s, when Sir asked Shirodkar a question and she took a little time to answer, Surya loudly shouted out ‘Joshi!’ much to the amusement of the entire class. Quite obviously, Sir did not understand the context, but there was a general murmur in the class. Surya, of course, got an immediate snub when Sir asked him a question and, when he could not reply, taunted, ‘You are the sheth of Kanhe village. What’s the need for
you
to study?’

I was expecting Shirodkar to get angry at Surya’s comment, but she did not react. In fact, when I tried glancing at her in the mid-break, she returned my glance with a slight smile. I was not sure whether her friends had teased her. I decided not to respond to Surya’s comments and add fuel to the fire. I deliberately started a conversation involving Sakhardande, Ambekar and Bendre ma’am in the mid-break to divert their attention.

I knew I was going to do something no one else was aware of. It was our little secret, mine and Shirodkar’s. I wanted to laugh out loud just thinking of it. No one in class would ever know. I glanced in the direction of the playground and the hills beyond Sonarpada shining brightly in the hot sun. In the next period, Halbe sir droned in his usual monotone while I gazed out and enjoyed the scenery.

That day I realized where the real fun lay. There may be classrooms, benches, girls, boys, teachers, Maths, Physics - even Social Studies. But I am not a part of any of them. I am a free soul, like the white egret sitting on a cow’s back. I may be physically present in this school, but there is a different school which I hold in my mind - one that is just mine. That school has no walls, no blackboards, no teachers, but it teaches something truly beautiful.

I reached her house that evening and was disappointed to find no one at the gate. I was expecting her. I waited for a few moments, unsure of the next steps. The gate had a wooden latch, but I did not dare enter. I looked around, but there wasn’t anyone in sight. Luckily, no one walked by. I waited for sometime. I could not call out for anyone. Finally, I steeled myself and opened the gate. I turned to put the latch back when she came out into the verandah. She smiled brightly.

She was wearing a white frock which had lace all over—the kind of frock girls wear in school when dressed as a fairy in a dance programme. She looked like a freshly blossomed flower. I realized I should have worn a new shirt.

‘Come,’ she said. ‘I was wondering whether you would come or not.’

I did not know what to say. I continued to look at her, smiling. The verandah had two large stone pillars supporting the roof—the kind I had seen in the temple. There was a grill window covered with a floral curtain. Near the entrance was a jute doormat similar to the one in my house. I removed my sandals and stood there.

‘Why don’t you come in?’ she asked and then, turning towards the room, shouted, ‘Aai, come and see—Joshi from my class is here.’

The drawing hall was quite large, almost the size of two of our rooms put together. There were two more windows on the left side covered with similar curtains but light filtered through, brightening up the room. A door led to the kitchen. There was another door through which I could see a few hibiscus plants in the backyard. Two more doors in the corner led to other rooms. I could not see what lay inside as they had curtains.

Her mother came out of one of the inner rooms followed by her younger brother, who ran into the hall.

‘This is Joshi from my class,’ she said. ‘I told you the other day, remember? He is the one who beats everyone at word games.’

I kept looking at her mother. She was beautiful and fair like Chitre’s mother. She was wearing a bright yellow saree—the kind I had seen on the Goddess during Gauri puja. She wore a huge red bindi on her forehead. She had tied her hair into a large bun and decorated it with aboli flowers.

I kept staring like an idiot for a while and then it dawned on me! Despite the notebooks, I quickly folded my hands in a smart namaskar. She laughed. Her laughter was sweeter than Shirodkar’s.

‘Is that so?’ she said. ‘And where do you stay?’

‘Kudalkar chawl,’ I said.

‘Where is it?’

How was I to answer that? She would not know where Kudalkar chawl was. Most people staying in their part of the town would not know.

‘It is a little before Dhaparewadi,’ I tried explaining. ‘On Devpada road.’

She probably did not get it, but she nodded saying, ‘Oh I see, I see.’ My chest was pounding loudly. I was struggling to speak. Her younger sister came into the hall from another room.

‘This is my brother Sandeep,’ Shirodkar said. ‘And this is my sister.’

I knew them and there was no need to get them introduced. For some reason, I assumed that her brother’s name would be Raju. I was worried that her younger sister may recognize me as she had come to the temple the other day. But she did not. They both looked at me as if they were meeting me for the first time.

‘Sit down,’ her Aai said. She noticed the books in my hand and asked, ‘Did you have tuition today?’

‘No. I had to return these to Misal,’ I said, looking at my books.

I had thought of it when I left home. Carrying notebooks would make her mother wonder whether we had bunked, but then I had no choice. Not carrying notebooks was worse; Aaisaheb would have smelt a rat.

I was about to sit down when Shirodkar asked, ‘Do you want to see our garden?’

I kept the notebooks on the teapoy and followed her out into the garden. Sandeep and her sister followed us. There wasn’t much grass in the garden, but there were a lot of small shrubs and bushes. Most of them seemed to be some kind of flowering plants. The flower beds were neatly lined with half-cut bricks. There were a lot of aboli shrubs.

‘This is a rose creeper,’ she said. ‘And this one is mogra. This is bramhakamal. It flowers only once a year. This is jai creeper and that one is green champa. Do you want to take some flowers for your sister?’