Read The Secret wish List Online
Authors: Preeti Shenoy
His little speech has crushed me like a ten-ton truck. All my newfound bravery vanishes swiftly.
I wince at what he has stated so plainly. He has thrown at me a fact—that it is he who has been earning while I live in the lap of luxury. It hurts as there is an element of truth to it. Heck, not just an element, it is the entire truth.
And it is bitter and hard to swallow.
So I bite back the tears that are threatening to spill over and with an intense self-loathing, mutter a ‘Sorry, you are right. I don’t know what came over me.’
Then I retreat into the kitchen and I sob and sob and sob, even as Sandeep turns the television back on and goes back to watching whatever it was that I interrupted.
Five
A
NKIT AND
I
MEET AT
I
NFINITY AFTER MY DANCE
class. I am still in my dance uniform—a plain pink
salwar kameez
and a plain yellow
dupatta
. It is as unglamorous an outfit as can be for a first date and on top of that I am covered in sweat after a very hard dance practice. Yet I am happy even if somewhat conscious of my appearance. I am a bit nervous too. But Ankit seems to neither mind nor notice any of it and even if he does, is too polite to say. He waits just outside and helps me park my bicycle, though I tell him I am perfectly capable of parking it myself.
‘I know you are, but allow me to do at least something for you, Diksha,’ he says, his eyes twinkling. I find it hard to avert my gaze from him. He is handsome. His eyes are a deep brown and his straight hair falls across his forehead. He flicks it back with a slight toss of his head. He is nearly six feet tall or at least a five eleven and a half. I feel puny next to him.
‘Ankit, we should have met another day. I am all sweaty and I am wearing this stupid salwar
,
’ I say.
‘You look lovely, Diksha. Just relax,’ he replies as I follow him into the coffee shop. He asks me what I will have and we both settle for cold coffee.
We make small talk for a while.
Then he says, ‘Listen, you heard of this Environment Awareness exhibition happening at the Air Force School next month, right?’
I nod. I have already seen the notices and heard the announcements about it. We were all asked to make models and the best ones would get selected. But I wasn’t interested in it. But now that Ankit has mentioned it, my interest is piqued.
‘Take part in it, Diksha. It involves an overnight stay and my whole group will be there,’ he winks.
‘Oh!’ I say. I wasn’t aware about the overnight stay. Actually, I hadn’t even given it a thought. But now, getting a chance to spend one whole day outside school with Ankit is too wonderful an opportunity to pass up. I am very tempted and excited at the prospect.
‘But what in the world will I present? What environment awareness project can I do?’ I ask.
‘Look, I will help you with it. You need to go and speak to Mrs Rao and tell her you are keen. You can rope in some of your classmates if you want. But don’t miss this opportunity,’ he commands.
I smile at how he has taken charge of this whole situation and decided for me that I am attending.
He tells me to make a low-cost model farm. He has done research on it. He seems to know a lot about it. He says he will help me with everything. I am surprised at the level of detailed planning he has done. By the end of our coffees we have agreed on a grand plan. Only six best models will be chosen and Ankit says that my model has to be really good in order to get selected.
He and his gang are making a working model on rainwater harvesting and explaining the concept with charts and impressive statistics. Rohan is of course a part of this group.
That evening I explain my model to Rohan and my parents over dinner. I leave out the part about Ankit’s involvement in all of it.
Rohan is quite impressed. So are my parents. I beam with pride.
‘Not bad, Diksha. I never knew you had it in you. I hope yours gets chosen. I know our model already has. I overheard Mrs Rao speaking to Miss Bindu in the staff room.’
‘I hope so, too. Let’s see,’ I answer.
‘So are you working with Tanu on this one?’ asks Rohan
‘I will ask her. But I don’t know,’ I reply.
I know for certain that Tanu will not want to be a part of it. Especially if she hears that it is Ankit who is behind the whole idea. But I do not want to leave her out. So I ask her the next day. I explain my project in detail. I tell her that it is actually Ankit’s idea and that he is masterminding it.
To my surprise, Tanu is excited and wants to be a part of it. She also asks me about my date with Ankit in detail. I downplay it all and tell her it was just okay. I don’t tell her how madly my heart was racing. Or that Ankit and I have planned the whole project so that we get time together away from school. Instead, I tell her that Ankit casually mentioned this idea and I thought I would give it a shot. Tanu has no reason to disbelieve me and she says she will throw herself with full gusto into the project.
We have several weeks left for the final exhibition in our school from which the best models will be chosen for the exhibition at the Air Force School.
Ankit and I meet almost every single day now. It has become a kind of ritual. It all started when I called him up to tell him that Tanu had agreed to work on it with me. He asked me to meet him after school to discuss the project model in detail. I told Mother that since I was working on the project with Tanu, which isn’t exactly a lie, I needed to meet her every evening, and this is how our (Ankit’s and mine) regular meetings came about.
I usually cycle back and reach home in fifteen minutes. But these days, Ankit waits for me around the corner two lanes away. We cycle together to Elliot’s Beach and sit watching the waves and talking about almost everything under the sun. I enjoy his company immensely and I discover that he loves the Arts. He wants to do a degree in Fine Arts after his Class Twelve, but his father is keen for him to join the family business. He also knows he will probably never end up doing Art. Not much money in it, he says. I tell him about how my mother forces me to learn classical dance. I tell him about my taste in books and we discover a common ground. He loves reading too. We talk and talk and the hours feel like minutes.
Ankit opens up to me and tells me about his family. They are very wealthy and the Uttam Group of Industries is well known. They have tons of money. But things at home are not so fine. He is a single child and his parents are on the verge of a break-up. He hates going home as his parents fight all the time.
‘It is so peaceful here with you, Diksha. I feel really good with you. I hate the constant fights at home. I just can’t wait to be independent and lead my own life. My parents—I am really tired of them,’ he says.
I feel tender towards him. I hear the pain in his voice and I see, behind his ‘cool dude’ façade, a child who is begging to be loved. I badly want to hug him right there but we are in a public place and that too in conservative Chennai. So I slide my hand over his and I squeeze it. He holds my hand tight. Time stands still in those few moments.
We watch the sunset together. Finally, only when it is beginning to become dark do we head home. He cycles with me till the end of the street where my house is and waits till I reach my gate. Then I wave and he leaves after that.
It is strange how one can feel so close with another person just after a few regular meetings and long chats. I feel as though I have known Ankit all my life. He says he feels the same way.
At school, I can’t wait for the last bell to ring so I can be with Ankit. On the days that I have a dance class, we meet at Infinity. I know that I am head over heels in love with Ankit. I have no idea whether it is a crush or whatever it is the experts call it. All I know is that I feel so alive, so happy and so good about myself when I am with him.
I meet Tanu during the weekends and we work on our project. I am happy that we are back to being friends again, the old awkwardness seems to have truly vanished. Who knows, maybe Tanu did not really have a crush on Ankit, after all. We plan out the project in detail. I have made some rough sketches with Ankit’s help. Tanu loves my layout and design. Of course, I don’t tell her that Ankit has been helping me. We get a large wooden tray from her attic. Then her mother helps us pile red, fertile mud which she has got in sacks for planting a lawn. We get small plastic houses from the Monopoly set. Tanu raids her attic and comes up with tiny plastic farm animals that she used to play with as a child. Her mother helps us plant mustard and says if we water it regularly, we will have an impressive little green field on the day of the exhibition. She says this is just for trial and we will have to repeat this a few days before the exhibition as the mustard plants wouldn’t thrive for that long.
Tanu and I water it diligently and work on it every day, adding elements like canals, a self-irrigation system, a well, a barn, miniature signboards and many other little details. We even put in tiny people from her doll house. Finally, on the day of the selection of models for the final exhibition, we are rewarded with a splendid-looking model farm, complete with real little green plants. It looks extremely impressive and all the students as well as teachers gather around us to examine it.
I catch Ankit beaming with pride and our eyes meet across the crowded room. We do not exchange a single word but the look in his eyes says it all. We communicate such a lot without even talking. I feel as though I am floating on air.
Of course our model gets selected.
‘Well done, Diksha, I am so proud of you,’ says Rohan as he thumps my back when the announcements at school are made.
‘Hearty congrats,’ says Ankit and gives me a knowing little smile. We hug our secret to ourselves and I do a tiny jig in my head as I think of all the time I will get with Ankit.
We wait eagerly now for the exhibition at the Air Force School at Avadi. The mustard plants which we planted in our model farm will die by then, but we now know what to do and tell Mrs Rao that we will replant them a few days before the actual exhibition so that we still have a grand model on the final day.
That is exactly what we do.
There are about eighteen children chosen to go to Air Force School with their models. Tanu and I are over the moon to be a part of this. All arrangements have been made for spending two days and one night at the host-school. There are more than fifty-five schools, including ours, taking part and the event has been organised on a rather large scale.
It is a two-day exhibition and we will be returning at the end of day two. The best models selected here would then represent the south zone and will get to go to Delhi for the grand finale.
Our school has made arrangements for a mini-bus and three teachers will be accompanying us. Mrs Rao, Miss Bindu and our sports teacher, Mr Paul, are our escorts. My parents are totally relaxed about sending me on this field trip as Rohan is on it too. They have proudly informed all their friends as well as Meera Mausi and my grandmother that both their children have been chosen to display their models at the exhibition.
Tanu is as excited as me. It is the first time we will be spending the night away from home.
‘I wonder where we will stay. I wonder what it will be like,’ she says as we clamber onto the bus. All our models have been arranged very carefully right at the back.
‘Yeah, I wonder too,’ I say, my eyes searching for Ankit all the while. Finally, I see him making his way along with his gang to the bus and I relax. His eyes catch mine and I quickly look away guiltily and smile. I catch him smiling too. I have never been happier in my life.
Tanu is oblivious to the chemistry between Ankit and me. To me, it seems so obvious. I can almost hear my heart sizzle each time he catches my eye. He has positioned himself in such a way that from where he is standing, he has a clear view of me. The accompanying teachers arrive and make everyone sit down. Ankit is seated in the aisle seat, just a row in front of me. I too have chosen the aisle. From where I sit, if I extend my hand, I can touch his hair. The physical proximity to Ankit gives me a heady rush. It is nothing like I have ever experienced before. He is with Rohan and his gang and yet, any chance he gets, he glances at me. Tanu is busy gazing out of the window. I desperately want to tell Ankit to not look at me so much. I am terrified of being discovered. So I pull out my notebook from my satchel, turn to the last page and slowly tear out a piece of paper. I furtively look around. Everyone is busy chatting and doing their own thing.
I quickly scribble:
Hey—don’t look at me so much! You are making it so obvious.
The next time Ankit catches me eye, I hold the note with my thumb and forefinger and slowly wave it. Then I drop it and slide it with my foot towards him. My heart races furiously. Ankit manages to bend down and pick up the note. He reads it and smiles.
I look away. I hope to God he listens. But to my horror I see him pulling out his notebook. He has torn out a whole page too. I see him scribbling and, a moment later, he passes the note to me by dropping it and kicking it back with his foot. In a jiffy I have retrieved it. It reads:
Don’t worry. Nobody will know. Can’t take my eyes off you. I love you so much (there, I have said it). Meet me tonight after everyone has slept? Please?
I blush furiously and crumple the note and stuff it in my bag. He looks at me and smiles and raises his eyebrow.
I mouth a NO. How can I creep out and meet him? What if we get caught? I am too scared.
He mouths ‘Please’ and makes a puppy face.
I suppress a giggle and quickly pretend to cough and look away.
Then I see him scribbling a second note.
‘What in the world are you writing?’ asks Dhiraj who is next to him.
‘Some notes about the talk I have to give about the project,’ answers Ankit without missing a beat.
I am amazed at how quickly he has made up a story and that too on the spot. I would have probably fumbled and mumbled something and been caught out had Tanu asked me about it. Ankit is totally unruffled. He finishes the note calmly and slips it to me.