When they reached the arch, they discovered Sanju standing there with Ron.
‘Kajol told me to show you the way, didi. Come this way,’ said Sanju, as he led them down a street.
The lanes grew narrower and narrower as they approached Kajol’s home. This was not an area that Kanika was familiar with. Ron had become smarter when it came to navigating the puddles in his way, and he gingerly stepped over them, unlike the last time he was there. As they got closer to Kajol’s home, they could see that it was lit up with multi-coloured fairy lights.
‘This is like Christmas minus the tree,’ Ron exclaimed.
The latest Bollywood numbers were blaring from a loudspeaker.
‘I arranged didi, for Kajol’s birthday,’ said Sanju, his face beaming with pride.
There was a small rickety wooden table placed outside her home, in the street. It was covered with patterned cloth, and it had the birthday cake on it. Kajol stood behind the table and a large smile broke out on her face as she greeted Kanika, Veda and Ron.
‘Welcome didi, bhaiya!’ she said, as she spun around, new long skirt twirling. Kanika and Veda smiled when they saw that.
‘New skirt, Kajol? It looks so pretty,’ said Kanika.
‘Yes, Aayi got it for me. Thank you, didi,’ Kajol beamed.
Shakubai hurried out of the house and greeted them.
‘Go get chairs for the guests; why are you making them stand?’ she said.
Sanju brought out three red plastic chairs that were nested within each other, from inside the house, and Ron helped him separate them.
‘Please sit didi; bhaiya. Thank you for coming,’ said Kajol.
‘Happy birthday, Kajol,’ said Veda, as she handed her gift to her.
Ron and Kanika did the same.
Kajol was overwhelmed.
‘Can I open them, didi?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ said Kanika.
Kajol exclaimed in delight as she opened each box, slowly. She carefully folded the gift-wrapping paper and put it aside. She was overjoyed, and Veda could see how much she loved the gifts. She ran her hands over the salwar-kameezes and felt the soft fabric. She opened the bag and turned it around and looked at the insides. ‘So nice, didi. So nice, bhaiya,’ she kept repeating, over and over. Her eyes glistened with tears, and she said, ‘Thank you so very much. This is my best birthday.’
There were just three other children from Sankalp, apart from Sanju. It seemed like it was indeed a special party where she had invited select guests.
Sanju said he would be back in a minute, and disappeared down the street.
‘Where is he going?’ asked Veda.
‘To get cool drinks, didi,’ said Kajol.
‘Cool drinks?’ Ron raised an eyebrow.
‘It’s not alcohol, Ron. In India, cool drink refers to an aerated drink,’ Kanika smiled as she explained.
Shakubai had prepared hot pooranpolis and vada pavs. She brought them out and served it to them on paper plates.
‘Let’s cut the cake!’ said Veda.
‘No didi, first you eat. Pooranpolis and vada pavs are hot. If it becomes cold, it won’t be so tasty,’ said Kajol.
Ron had never seen anything like a pooranpoli before. Having eaten with Kanika and Veda in the cafeteria at the office complex, he was familiar with vada pav.
‘This is scrumptious. You know, I should start a restaurant in Birmingham which serves this. There’s nothing like that there,’ he said.
‘Shakubai, Ron is asking you if you want to start a hotel in Birmingham,’ said Kanika.
Shakubai just laughed and covered her mouth with her saree pallu.
‘Mein idhar hi theek hoon,’ she said, waving her hands and shaking her head.
‘What did she say?’ asked Ron.
‘She said she is fine here. She does not want to take you up on your offer, Ron,’ laughed Kanika.
Suddenly, there was a commotion behind them.
‘AYYYY,’ shouted a male voice.
They turned to look. It was a very drunk man who was approaching them. He was swaying and could barely walk. He was dressed in a cleaner’s uniform. It was Kajol’s father, Rajaram.
‘Arey wah! Party!’ he said, as he came to the table.
Kajol’s face stiffened in anger.
‘Please go inside. We have guests,’ said Shakubai, as she went to him and tried to steer him into their house. But he pushed her aside.
Then he saw the gifts that were piled up on the table and the cake.
He lunged towards the gifts and grabbed them.
‘What is this? New clothes? Give them to me,’ he said, as he grabbed the bottom of one of the new salwar-kameez sets.
‘NO!’ yelled Kajol, as she pulled it back from his hand.
Kajol’s father lost his balance. He fell against the table on which the cake was placed. The table toppled and fell; the cake went crashing to the ground along with it.
‘Oh, no!’ said Ron.
Kanika and Veda stood horrified, watching the chaos.
Kajol’s father lay sprawled on the ground with the overturned cake next to him, which was now mixed with the mud and dirt.
‘Where did you get the money for all this from, EH?’ he was yelling.
Then he saw Ron, Kanika and Veda. To him, they represented the ‘upper class’, the ‘sahibs’, the office workers he envied and detested.
‘Why are they here?’ he asked, pointing to them.
‘They are here as our guests. Go inside,’ said Shakubai, helping him up.
But Rajaram was not in a mood to listen to his wife. In his home, he was king. How dare these people turn up here, he thought, his drunken state exacerbating his feelings. He stood up, staggering, trying to find a balance, considering what he should do next. Anger was welling up inside him by the minute. And then suddenly, without any warning, he lunged at Ron.
‘ANGREZ. SAAALE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN OUR BASTI? GET OUT! GO AWAY, WHOLE DAY I CLEAN YOUR SHIT. DO YOU HEAR ME?’ he yelled, in Hindi.
The colour drained from Ron’s face. He did not understand the words, but he knew he was not welcome there, and he stood staring. In that frozen second before he could react, Rajaram had swung at Ron.
Thwack.
The sound as the drunk man’s balled fist collided with Ron’s cheekbone rang loudly in his ear. Ron staggered back, reeling in pain.
Kajol was horrified and stood there in shock, her mouth open.
‘BHADWA . . . SAAAAALA!’ Shakubai came charging from behind him, yelling at her husband, her eyes blazing. The years of violence that she had endured from this man had broken something inside her when she saw him hitting Ron. She had a piece of firewood in her hand, and before he could turn around, she hit him on the head with it.
THUMP. The blow landed on his skull.
She pushed him hard before he could recover from the sudden jolt of pain. Her action took him by complete surprise and he collapsed forward, losing consciousness as he mumbled a cry.
Sanju had arrived with the cool drinks and he stood there, shocked. He had witnessed the scene that had unfolded in front of him so quickly that it was over within a few seconds.
Kajol and Sanju rushed towards Ron, as did Kanika and Veda.
‘Ron bhaiya. I am so sorry, sorry bhaiya,’ repeated Kajol, over and over.
‘Are you okay, Ron?’ asked Kanika. She was in a state of shock too, as was Veda.
‘Bhaiya, keep this cool drink against your cheek,’ said Sanju, handing over one of the ice-cold bottles.
Ron held the bottle against his jaw, its coolness somewhat soothing the sharp sting.
‘That was . . . well . . . unexpected,’ he said, slowly recovering his composure.
‘Shall we go to a doctor?’ asked Veda.
‘Oh, no, not at all. I will be fine. This is not as bad as some of the drunken brawls at a British pub. Thanks for saving me, Shakubai,’ said Ron, and he managed a weak smile. Shakubai was looking at Ron in disbelief. It see
med as if she couldn’t comprehend what had happened.
Ron was being a sport about it.
As the whole impact of what had happened sunk in, Kajol started crying softly.
‘Hey—don’t cry, Kajol. It’s your birthday,’ said Sanju, helplessly.
‘Yes, he is right. You must not cry on your birthday,’ Kanika wrapped her arm around Kajol’s shoulders.
‘Kajol. Keep those gifts inside and hide them before your father wakes up. If he sees the new things, he will sell them and take the money for his alcohol,’ said the pragmatic Sanju.
Kajol nodded and asked Sanju to keep them in his house, so that her father would not find them. Between them, they managed to quickly pack away the gifts.
‘Mein maafi maangti hoon sahib,’ said Shakubai, as she joined her palms and stood in front of Ron. Ron understood that she was apologising.
‘It’s not your fault at all, I am fine,’ said Ron.
Kanika said that they should leave. Sanju escorted them back out of Sitawadi.
Once they were out of Kajol’s street, Ron said, ‘Just think about this. This is what poor Kajol endures on a daily basis.’
They walked out of Sitawadi in silence, each of them contemplating how tough life was for these children.
Chapter 28
February 1997
Pune
Dearest, dearest Vidya,
You have no idea how happy your letter made me. I might have said this before, but I want to say it again—I am very proud of you. I am especially happy that you are considering writing the civil services exams. Well done!
You inspire me. After reading your letter, I felt that I ought to give the exams a shot too. But I will probably have to do it after a couple of years. The reason is, I have to complete my graduation first. I have to apply to write the supplementary exams, and then take time off from Sankalp to study for them. Right now, though, I get immense satisfaction and joy teaching these children, and I want to focus on that.
I cannot believe those aunties tried to match-make again, after the way you behaved the last time. Will they ever give up? What joy do they get trying to match-make like this? It seems to me that they are trapped in unhappy marriages and now they want others to be trapped the same way too.
You did absolutely the right thing by refusing to marry that widower. He might be a nice person, but I don’t think you are ready for the responsibility of a child. You have so much that you want to achieve. I think the girls who want to marry him just want a free ticket out of Joshimath. How naive they are! They have no idea what complications marriage brings.
Now for my Sankalp news—we are conducting the mock exams next week. Kanika, Ron and I meticulously went through the question papers of the last ten years. Then we formed a ‘question bank’ or a ‘question pool’. We studied the patterns in the questions asked, wrote down the ‘most likely to be asked’ ones, and have prepared the children accordingly. Or at least we have tried to. We have also set the question paper for the mock board exam, and it’s the closest we can get to the actual question paper. I have a feeling the paper we set will be pretty close to what will be asked, as I can see patterns in the questions asked each year.
I hope these children do well. For many, their futures depend on this. For Aishwarya and Shalini, the company that has bought some of their artwork has promised them a scholarship for higher studies, and after they finish that, a job, if they score above 65 per cent. Both are delighted at the prospect.
I think I am more nervous than the children themselves about the mock boards. Of course, these marks that they score here do not count at all, but it does give an indication of things to come. The fact is, Ron, Kanika and I have put our hearts into this and we have been working very hard.
The other thing I want to tell you about—I heard from Suraj. He wrote about this girl in his office, and I got the sense that he probably likes her. He hasn’t given any indication that they are in a relationship and hasn’t said anything remotely like that. Yet, it is a feeling I get.
I have told him over and over that there can be nothing more than friendship between us. But I think you might have guessed, after our last meeting, when we spent time together at Shaniwar Wada, I thought I had something special with him. Now I completely feel like a goose for even thinking that way. I think I read far too much than I should have into a simple hug. And Vidya, I hate to admit this—I am so, so jealous of the girl he mentioned.
He says she is fun, smart and great to be around. God—I burned with jealousy when I read that. I hate that she gets to be with him, and I can’t. I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I know I should focus on my work at Sankalp. Yet, I am unable to control my feelings. I thank my lucky stars that I didn’t get carried away and hold his hand or kiss him or do any such thing. You know, Vidya, I wanted to. So badly. But I refrained.
I haven’t written to him. It’s an ostrich’s way of dealing with the problem. It is not that a solution will come out of my not writing to him. But for now, this is the best I can do. This jealousy that I feel—I have never experienced anything like it before. I detest it. I do not want to think about that stupid girl, and I don’t want my friendship with Suraj to be affected because of her. Yet, I am not able to get over it or brush it aside. I am not sure what I should do about this.
Give my love to Vandu, Vaish and Ani.
That’s all from my side for now.
Study well for your exams. Do well.
All my love,
Your rule-bending regretter sis,
Veda
Veda posted the letter to Vidya and hurried towards Ron’s apartment.
The children were already working with Kanika and Ron when she got there.
‘Didi, can you tell me what questions you will ask in the mock exam?’ Sanju asked cheekily.
‘Come on, Sanju, you know you are not allowed to ask that and I am not permitted to disclose it,’ said Kanika.
Kanika was seated at the dining table, going through some assignments that had been submitted earlier. Veda joined her. Ron was in the kitchen, rustling up sandwiches for everybody. If the children were at Ron’s house close to a meal time, he usually offered them something to eat.
‘Sanju, it would be better if you focus on your work, rather than trying to figure out the questions,’ Kanika said.
But Sanju wouldn’t give up.
‘Come on, didi, please tell. Tell only one question,’ he pestered.
‘No!’ said Kanika.
‘Please, Veda didi—tell Kanika didi to tell us one question?’ he now addressed Veda.
‘What is this, Sanju, do you want to leak the question paper beforehand?’ asked Veda.
‘Yes didi, I want to leak the question paper. I will sell the questions, and I will make a lot of money. Many children will pay me money for questions,’ Sanju said.
‘Good luck with that!’ Veda laughed and shook her head.
‘Thank you, didi,’ replied Sanju, missing the sarcasm.
‘Sanju, please focus on your work. You can do your question paper-leaking business later,’ Kanika reprimanded him, her tone sharp.
That made Sanju back off, and for the rest of the evening he managed to focus on his books.
When the mock exams were conducted at the Sankalp premises, Kanika coached them about what to expect in the actual board exams.
‘Remember, your final board exams will NOT be in your own school. It will be in a completely different school. Veda didi, Ron bhaiya and I will accompany you to your exam centres a week earlier, so that you will know how to get there. The environment will be different, but don’t get nervous because of that. Just focus on the questions. Now, please pretend that this is your actual board exam. Remember to write ONLY your roll numbers and not your names. DON’T write any religious symbols like “Om” or a draw a cross at the start of the paper. Such things are not allowed. And in the English paper, for the letter-writing question, remember, you should NOT write your real names,’ Kanik
a’s instructions were precise and detailed.
The children nodded. A few nervously licked their lips. Sanju looked petrified. All the playfulness and bravado of the previous evening were gone now.
‘Sanju, take a deep breath and relax,’ Kanika said, noticing his anxiety.
‘The children here take these things very seriously, don’t they?’ Ron whispered to Veda. They were both standing on one side of the classroom, with stacks of paper in their hands to distribute as answer sheets when Kanika rang the bell.
‘Yes, they do. Class 10 is considered an important exam in India,’ Veda whispered back.
Ron nodded. ‘Yes, I understand. Back home, we have the O levels,’ he said. ‘But there isn’t much pressure on the kids who take it. They have it easier there,’ he added.
Soon, the examination started. Veda and Ron distributed the answer sheets and allowed the children the time to write their roll number and the dummy centre number which Kanika had allotted.
Then she rang another bell. That was the cue for Ron and Veda to distribute the question papers.
For the next hour and a half, the children were hunched over, scribbling furiously on their answer sheets. Kajol didn’t look up even once, and she kept asking for supplementary answer sheets. Sharan, Aishwarya, Zinia and all the others seemed to be handling it well too, judging by their focused faces as they concentrated hard and wrote. The only person who looked a little lost and confused was Sanju.
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