He came strutting in, a water bottle strap wound around his neck, supporting a small bright orange colored water bottle which moved from side to side as he walked in through the gate. He stopped looked around the place once, gathering the scene around him and then in one jerk, pulled his shirt out from the shorts, messed up his neatly combed hair and smiled like a devil would on surveying his favorite dwelling place.
"Thats Rajiv jnr", whispered Jacko in Akky's ear. "His dad was a maniac my dad tells me. He would hound poor souls all day long and pounce on the smallest of stumbles. Looks like he has inherited some of the traits from his father."
"Really!! I didnt know he was that way!", said Akky, from up on the tree trunk that he was perched on, legs dangling on either sides, hands holding down a two feet length of wood perpendicular to the trunk in front as if holding a bike handlebar.
"Yes, yes. Didnt your dad warn him from you?"
"No, not really. He tells me some stories, but most of them zooming across the highways on his Hayabusa", and continued twisting the piece of wood, as if steering his imaginary bike through thick traffic.
But Jacko had already drifted away, no longer interested in the conversation. He was busy tracing the path of a young slim figure making way to the school lobby entrance; bag dangling behind, water bottle to one side and busy adjusting the strands of hair that streamed the young face.
"Pffff", said Akky as he looked in the direction of the girl who was attracting his friend's attention. "Not your type!”
But Jacko was off, trance-like in the direction of his new crush-of-the-day.
Akky gave a smirk and resumed his animated imitation of a biker, very much in the thick of the action.
“Not again! Haven’t I told you not to do that? It irritates me to see you and your tomfoolery”, said Kabhi looking at him with an expression of exasperation.
“Why don’t you look away then? I’m sure there are enough souls that you can pester!”
Before a reply could be uttered, the school bell rang and Akky sighed, having to lose his favorite morning pass time. He thought if only his dad would give him a bike as present, instead of the yellow colored cycle that he had and so despised.
“Please settle down everyone and take out your answer books. I hope you have done your homework, rather, if I catch someone who hasn’t done it, it will be two canes for him/her. So let me not catch you with the homework not done!” bellowed the spectacled Mrs Das. She picked up the board duster and brushed off the scrawls on the board, stopping at one drawn on the bottom corner which particularly miffed her. “Who has done this? Who has dared to commit this blasphemy? If there is one thing I won’t tolerate, it is disrespect of the holy Gods and scriptures. Understand!!” The final word was delivered with such force, such hate and anger that first benchers quivered. The last bench was a different story altogether, with most suppressing smiles which bore complete disregard for the bellower.
“Damn!” I couldn’t complete my masterpiece, whispered Sparsh. “It would have been legen…wait for it...”
“Daary!” said Kabhi, beaming a big smile to Sparsh.
“Its dary and not daary idiot! How many times do I have to tell you that!” said a visibly upset Sparsh, having missed his opportunity to complete the one phrase that was his favorite.
“Ji malik. Galti ho gayi!”, this time Kabhi’s smile not carrying the same frivolity as before.
All this was done at suitably low decibel so Mrs Das continued. “If I find the one who has done this, mind you, nothing less than detention for him/her, you get that!”, she rubbed off the scrawl of an inverted cross, complete with a poor artist’s version of Christ. T’was enough though to offend Jakko who looked with positively venomous looks towards Sparsh who returned the look with a broad smile and a middle finger, which irked him even more.
“So, question 1 of yesterday’s homework. Where would you find the Great Barrier Reef?”
“Australia!” was the immediate response from the back of the class, Rajiv jnr, very excited to have answered.
“Who said that without turn! Stand up whoever it was who answered!” at which Rajiv stood up. “Look at you, it’s the first period and your hair all messed up, your shirt half tucking out of your shorts! Don’t your mom and dad see to it that you look proper for school in the morning?! Tuck it in now and comb your hair, and don’t speak out of turn. Raise your hands if you know the answer. Understand?!”
“So next question; where will you find a Great Wall, which is visible from the Moon as well?”
“Australia!” jumped Rajiv jnr from his seat almost before the question was completed.
This time though, Mrs. Das was not in a tolerant mood and made it a point to send Rajiv jnr out of the class for disrespect. “Get out you devil!! You rascal! You will be on my radar come the next parent teacher meeting, you get me! I will not let you off the hook that easily this time!” The class was hushed as the young pupil made his way out of the class. The walk out was silent and solemn but as soon as the class exit was reached, Rajiv jnr did a little pelvic thrust towards Mrs. Das as she had turned away. This sent the class into peals of laughter.
“What’s the matter with this class! I can’t believe what you people find so funny in this punishment. Keep shut or I’ll make sure each one of your parents get a good hearing from me come the parent teacher’s meeting!’, she screamed aloud obviously disgusted. Then calming down she continued, “So now, next question and please raise your hands before answering. We are moving on to some general mathematics questions now.”
A boy starts from home with 20 rupees with him. He has to buy a kilo of potato, tomato, ladyfinger as well as 50 grams of coriander leaves, also known as hara dhaniya in Hindi. All vegetables cost 5 rupees a kilo. So what does he spend at the shop to get all the vegetables?” Hands shot up in the class as this was one of the easiest questions in the homework and everyone wanted to be the hero and answer correctly in class. Mrs. Das picked Ishant though amongst all the students as he seemed almost out of his seat in an excitement to answer. “Yes Mr. Ishant, you seem to be quiet excited about this one, let us all know the answer please”.
“Very simple mam, 15 rupees”, he said with a big smile on his face.
This really annoyed Mrs. Das as she had expected that at least this one would be answered with ease. “Cant you even do a simple math problem Mr. Goyal!”, she bellowed. There are 3 kilos of vegetables to be bought all for 5 rupees per kg, that’s 15 rupees right there. Then he has to buy the dhaniya as well, what about that!! The answer can’t be 15 then now can it?”
“But mam, itni sabzi ke saath toh dhaniya muft milta hai!” said Ishant very matter of factly, to rounds of laughter from the classroom.
“Shut up! you acting smart Ishant! You want to join you friend outside the class as well?”
“But Meerut main toh milta hai. Main toh hamesha….” the answer was drowned out by the squeals of laughter from all round.
This had Mr Goel joining Rajiv jnr outside the class.
“Why were you arguing? I agree you made a good point, but then this was a math question, why argue?”, was Rajiv jnr's first retort as he had also witnessed the scene from outside the class.
“But yaar who pays for dhaniya when you are buying so many vegetables. Papa never pays, and he makes sure that hari mirch is added as well….”
But inside the class, there was mayhem again. This time, it was none other than chubby Bratyush who was standing up, wheezing and one hand holding a handkerchief to his nose.
“Mam, I just can’t sit in this seat, Dheeraj in front of me just applied some green colored grime to his head and it stinks really bad. My wheezing has come back!”
This had Dheeraj hopping mad. “I never says anythings to you when you uses your medicines and creams. My dad use this and his hair is very shining and I am also using this. It doesn’t smell, it is sort of different scents, but not smells.”
“Yes, yes, I agree with Dheeraj, hair is very important”, argued Ghastav, wearing a cap to hide his already diminishing mane.
As more people joined into the ruckus, Mrs. Das felt helpless; and not for the first time in her teaching career. She did nothing to stop the chatter, having given up and feeling utterly helpless. Her gaze scanned the breadth of the room in an effort to find someone who she could find for motivation, someone who she could proudly call a good student, a model student, a benchmark for others to follow. Her look fell and moved on from many students disapprovingly; Mr Thakur, who was enjoying the mayhem, Pepsi in one hand and Bhujia in the other, Labhijeet, who was doing his own version of “tum toh thehere pardesi” with clapping and imitations which could have put any eunuch to shame, Mr. Fachin, who was busy gazing at his Sehwag cards and occasionally looking up to admire the song his good friend Labhijeet was bleating out. And finally her gaze fell on one student and instantly she knew that he was the one she was looking for. Looking dashing in his ironed and starched shirt, neatly done tie and perfectly combed hair, sat Puneet jnr, looking disapprovingly at the others fighting amongst them. Not for nothing was he the topper of the class and the favorite of all and sundry. “If only others could be like him”, she sighed under her breath and turned to the fighting crowd in an attempt to bring the room to order……
Disclaimer -- This does not represent my judgment on anyone. Intended for a light read.
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