The Rule Breakers

by Preeti Shenoy

  ‘You know, that was such a risk he took. What if I had been straight?’ he asked. His eyes took on a dreamy look, as he recalled the incident. Veda could see how much Vikki meant to Bhuwan.

  They talked almost till the wee hours of the morning. Strangely, being honest with each other had removed a giant invisible wall between them, breaking the barriers which they themselves had constructed.

  ‘You know, Veda—that one time . . . er . . . that one time we did it—I am so sorry about it. It was after a fight with Vikki. I was drunk and it was to prove a point to him. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I regretted it and I didn’t know how to talk about it. So I pretended it did not happen,’ Bhuwan looked ashamed as he admitted it.

  Veda did not know what to say. It seemed to her like it was a long time ago. Bhuwan had been a perfect gentleman, but for that one incident.

  ‘It’s okay, Bhuwan,’ she said.

  ‘You—you did not mind?’

  ‘It’s in the past. And I knew no better. It’s okay,’ Veda replied.

  ‘People have so many misconceptions about gay men,’ Bhuwan said.

  ‘Such as?’ Veda asked.

  ‘Like any other group of people, we homosexual men are attracted only to certain types of men who spark our interest. Everyone thinks that just because we are gay, we will have sexual desire for all men. That is absurd! Straight men think they should be afraid of us as we may hit on them, which is ridiculous. Gay men are NOT predatory, and it’s not like we cannot control our desires and that we lust after every man,’ Bhuwan was earnest in his explanation.

  Now that Veda had shown interest in what it was like for him, he wanted to explain it to her. It mattered to him that she understood.

  Veda completely understood what he was trying to tell her. ‘Yes, it’s not as though a straight guy is going to hit on every woman, just because he is a man,’ she said.

  ‘Precisely!’ said Bhuwan.

  Veda nodded.

  ‘Then there’s another misconception. People think that gay men are promiscuous and have multiple partners. That’s simply not true. Sexual promiscuity is a human phenomenon. It’s not restricted to men alone—whether straight or gay. We gays are a misunderstood lot,’ he said.

  ‘I know. I honestly did not even think about all this. You see, I haven’t known anyone who is gay. Then there’s the whole law thing. I guess that hurts too,’ Veda said.

  ‘Yes—I don’t know how what two consenting adults do in the bedroom is anybody’s business but theirs. What antiquated laws we have! Vikki and I have discussed this ad nauseam,’ Bhuwan admitted.

  ‘I can only imagine what a life of secrecy you must have to lead,’ said Veda.

  ‘Oh, you have no idea, Veda. It is always in fear and in secret, hiding from the world. And can I confess something?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh! More to confess?’ Veda teased him.

  Bhuwan smiled. ‘You know, to be honest, it is such a relief to speak to you so openly. That’s what I wanted to confess—that this is a big thing for me, to be able to speak openly like this,’ he said.

  Veda looked at him and saw the relief on his face. She thought of all the kind things he had done for her. She thought of how he must have felt growing up with this knowledge. She thought of how he must have hidden it from his parents. She felt another massive wave of understanding and sympathy for him.

  ‘Bhuwan, it is strange—but it is only now that I feel connected to you; you had never let me in all this while.’

  ‘Thank you, Veda, for being this understanding. And I am sorry. I ruined your life,’ Bhuwan said emotionally. He placed his hand on Veda’s shoulder as he said it.

  Veda was quiet again, as she thought about her marriage, the turn of events and where she was at this moment in her life.

  Then she said, ‘No, Bhuwan. You have not ruined my life. I have my whole life ahead of me.’

  Bhuwan told her about his childhood, about how strict Padma Devi had been, and how she meant well. He told her about his connection with his father, and how lost he had felt when he had died, and what a big anchor Vikki was in his life. Veda told him about her own strict father, about how Sankalp meant everything to her, and how depressed she felt about Sanju’s death. He listened carefully.

  ‘I hope things get resolved soon. Don’t worry, they will,’ he assured her.

  Veda said that they had to go to Sankalp the next day, for the final decision.

  Bhuwan glanced at the clock. It was almost 3 a.m.

  ‘Look at the time!’ he exclaimed.

  She was surprised. They had been talking for hours now!

  She felt no anger towards this man who was her husband. She could empathise with what he had been through.

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said.

  And for the first time since they got married, he put his arms around her.

  She rested her head on his chest, and they slept.

  Chapter 38

  April 1997

  Sankalp, Pune

  At 5.30 a.m., Veda’s alarm buzzed loudly in her ears, jolting her awake. She could barely open her eyes.

  She struggled to sit up and nudged Bhuwan.

  ‘Bhuwan, Bhuwan. Could you please tell your mother that I just cannot wake up today to do the pooja? I need to sleep for a bit more,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Yes. Please sleep,’ said Bhuwan.

  She was pleasantly surprised when Bhuwan woke her up at 8 a.m. with a cup of tea.

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ She smiled, as she sat up. ‘How is it that you decided to let me sleep?’ she asked.

  Bhuwan smiled at her. ‘Well, after last night,’ he said, and shrugged, not completing the sentence.

  Veda understood. She smiled back at him.

  ‘It is your big day today, isn’t it? You said you had to be at Sankalp for the inquiry commission meeting?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. Yes,’ said Veda, as she hurriedly got dressed. Kanika rang her doorbell soon after, and they left Kailash Mandir Colony together and walked towards Sankalp. They met Ron at the lobby. He had been waiting for them. Together, they took the elevator and went to Aparna’s office.

  ‘There you are. Go wait in the conference room. They will be here shortly,’ said Aparna. She was curt and terse in her greeting and she wouldn’t meet their eyes. There was something very different about her manner today.

  The three of them took their seats in the Sankalp conference room. They did not talk about the meeting that was to take place. Instead, they talked about what they had been doing with their days. Ron had been going around Pune, and he had been filming a lot. Kanika had been sewing and making many things—something she had never otherwise found the time for. Veda just sat quietly, listening to them, trying to focus.

  Veda was sleep-deprived, and she had developed a slight headache. She was still in turmoil from the discovery of Bhuwan’s sexuality. One part of her was hurting over Suraj’s last letter as well. She had not yet recovered or come to terms with either. But she did appreciate Bhuwan’s honesty. He had been completely open with her, and that had made all the difference. She could see why he had agreed to marry her—to satisfy his mother’s incessant demands. She could see how he too must have been feeling stuck in the marriage, as much as she was. Their fault was that they hadn’t spoken up about how they felt.

  The door to the conference room opened and Aparna walked in, followed by the three-member inquiry committee. Aparna introduced Ron, Veda and Kanika to them, as they took their seats. She also introduced the members, one by one.

  There was Gopal Krishnan, who took his place at the head of the conference table. He was a former education officer and had served as the head of many educational institutions. He looked to be in his late sixties. He was tall, thin, and had sparse grey hair. He wore brown-rimmed thick glasses.

  To his left sat Shamshad Begum, who was short and was dressed in a starched cotton saree. It looked like she did not have a neck, and her head was fitted straight to her body. Her hair was pul
led back in a thin, tight plait. She had been an advisor to the government education board, and was very senior.

  Then there was Khuswant Pandey. He was portly, and the buttons of his shirt stretched tightly across his belly. He was middle-aged, had a shock of black hair, and his moustache stood out on his face like the bristles of a toothbrush. He had been the dean of a college and now oversaw educational content at Sankalp. He took his place at Gopal Krishnan’s right.

  Aparna sat down next to Shamshad Begum, fiddling with the ballpoint pen in her hand, her brows knitted together, her posture upright and alert.

  They looked serious and grim, like they were judges of the supreme court. ‘We have already made our report, but we need to officially record your responses on this issue. Hence, please let us know what you have to say,’ Gopal Krishnan told them.

  If you have already made the report, what is the point of this discussion, Kanika thought. She wanted to say it to him, but held her tongue. There was no point antagonising these people—it was best if she just played along.

  ‘So shall we begin?’ asked Gopal Krishnan, speaking as if he was addressing a group of students in a classroom.

  Everyone nodded.

  ‘Can you tell me the exact words you said to the deceased, when you were at Ronald’s house, with regards to getting the question paper?’ Gopal Krishnan asked Veda.

  ‘What?’ asked Veda, puzzled. What was this gentleman asking her?

  ‘You heard me, Ms Veda. Our reports say that you encouraged the deceased to obtain the question paper by illegal means. Do you recall the exact words you said?’ he asked, looking over the rim of his glasses, reading out from the paper in his hands.

  ‘I did not tell Sanju to get any question paper,’ Veda denied the allegation indignantly.

  ‘Please think back, Ms Veda. That is not what the children we spoke to said. We have recorded their responses. There are at least six children saying that you did. Are they lying?’ Shamshad Begum took over from Gopal Krishnan.

  ‘How can they say something like that? It’s not true,’ Veda said. She could not believe what she was hearing.

  Shamshad Begum looked through her notes and turned a few pages.

  ‘Many children said that the deceased had mentioned his intention of leaking a question paper, and you wished him luck. Is that true?’ asked Shamshad Begum.

  Veda struggled to remember. But when Shamshad Begum said that, Kanika recalled it.

  ‘Oh, goodness! I now remember that conversation. That was not how it happened,’ she clarified. Then she narrated it as she remembered it. ‘Sanju was pestering us to tell him the questions that would be asked in the mock exam. Veda jokingly asked him if he wanted to leak the question paper beforehand.’

  ‘And when the deceased said that he would start a business, Ms Veda wished him luck, and Ms Kanika said he could start a business later, is that accurate?’ Shamshad Begum asked.

  Veda went pale as she remembered the conversation. This was not how she had meant it, at all. The way Shamshad Begum said it made it sound sinister. It made it sound like she and Kanika had deliberately encouraged Sanju.

  ‘Yes. But we were being sarcastic,’ said Veda.

  ‘Veda, haven’t I warned you once before too, not to encourage children like Sanju? Do you remember?’ Aparna asked.

  Veda remembered only too well. It was when Sanju had made drawings in his English test and Aparna had reprimanded her for the remarks she had made.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she admitted, tremulous at the sudden reminder of an incident she hadn’t thought would be brought up again.

  ‘Look, ma’am—we were only trying to help these children. We have worked hard with them. You should see the effort we have put in, rather than going into a single inconsequential detail,’ Ron spoke up, defending Veda and Kanika.

  ‘This single inconsequential detail, as you put it, has cost a life, sir. It has created a black mark on the reputation of Sankalp. Don’t you know the value of a life? Just because they come from the poorest sections of society, do you think their lives do not matter?’ It was Khuswant Pandey who had spoken.

  ‘I beg your pardon. That was not what I said at all. We care for these children. Their dreams, their hopes, their aspirations—all of it matters to us. Very much,’ Ron asserted.

  ‘So much so that you kept inviting them to your house,’ Shamshad Begum responded. ‘Do you have anything to say to that, or are you going to deny that as well?’ Her tone was derisive, condescending.

  ‘We did conduct classes at my home. I mentioned it to Aparna when she asked,’ Ron said.

  ‘It was after the mob of parents came, and I asked you, that you admitted it. Did you take permission before you started coaching the children at your home?’ Aparna asked.

  ‘No, we did not think that was needed, as we were acting in the best interests of the children,’ Ron said.

  ‘How can you decide their best interests, Mr Ronald? If this had happened in your country, do you think it would not have mattered?’ Gopal Krishnan’s voice rang loud and clear.

  Ron was taken aback at what Gopal Krishnan had just said and explicitly implied. He had never looked at it that way. He was as deeply aggrieved by Sanju’s death as Veda and Kanika were. He was shocked at the accusation being made—that he didn’t care as much because he was from another country.

  Veda had controlled herself up to this point. She had silently heard all the allegations that the committee was making. They were so wrong! Could they not see it? Why were they being so thick-headed about it? The sequence of events of the last few days, the mob of angry parents, Sanju’s death—everything had affected her deeply. She had endured it with all the strength that she had. Now the committee sitting here, passing judgement on them for no fault of theirs, was too much for her to take. Sanju’s beaten up, bruised face, helpless as he lay in the ICU in the hospital, the anguished wail that rang in the hospital corridor when the doctor pronounced him dead, the look on Kanika’s and Ron’s faces when they heard the news, Sanju’s body lying covered in a white sheet—it came to her in clear images. They had worked so hard with these children, going beyond the call of duty. They had put in so many hours of work, because the children mattered to them. Couldn’t these people see that? She had to set the record straight, once and for all. They had to understand what had happened. They couldn’t just sit here, quoting the notes that they had made in their reports. How could they not see their side of the story? Nothing that they said was making a difference to them. It seemed that they had already drawn their conclusions and were now looking to fit Ron, Kanika and Veda’s narrative into their report and weave it in, in order to just wrap it up. Something in her snapped, and she made a decision that very instant. She had to speak up.

  ‘Look Mr Gopal Krishnan, Ms Begum and Mr Whatever-your-name-is. I cannot listen to this anymore. For you, this is just a CASE. An INVESTIGATION which you have to close, REPORTS you have to submit. DO YOU REALISE THAT FOR RON HERE, FOR KANIKA AND FOR ME, THIS IS OUR WHOLE LIFE?’ Veda’s voice had risen and now boomed across the conference room. The anger and agony in her voice took everybody by surprise.

  ‘Ron could have made his film on Sankalp and gone back to England where a happy, EASY life awaits him. Instead, he CHOSE to STAY. Kanika went BEYOND the call of duty. She was there day and night, always available for the kids, for whatever they needed help with. I was there for them THROUGHOUT. What they thought, what they did, where they worked—all of it MATTERED to US. Do you know—the “deceased”, as you keep referring to him, Sanju, had a job at a restaurant run by the henchman of a local goon? Do you know Sanju had exam anxiety? Do you know how Sanju would score good marks in assignments, but when he saw a question paper, he blanked out? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND what that FEELS LIKE? Do you know his father used to WHACK him with a belt and he would come to Sankalp with red welts on his back? Do you know he felt UNLOVED by his stepmother? Do you know that his father did not even BOTHER when he was missing! It was Kaj
ol who came to us, PLEADED with us to look for Sanju. She BEGGED us not to reveal that Sanju had stolen money from his father to buy the question paper, which HE DECIDED ON HIS OWN—do you hear me—ON HIS OWN. Sanju was beaten up, the money was taken from him. Ron here did not want Sanju’s father to lose that money. So he GAVE IT TO HIM—FROM HIS OWN POCKET. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? And you accuse HIM and me and Kanika of not caring? WE CARED TOO MUCH, that was what our fault was! And yes, we broke the rules. We did attend Kajol’s birthday party. You should have seen the joy on her face when we gave her the gifts. We did invite the kids to Ron’s home and we coached them. Ron made sandwiches for them. The kids LOVED coming there. YOU CAN WRITE ALL THIS IN YOUR REPORT. GO AHEAD. As for me, I am DISGUSTED by this whole committee and the investigation and the rules that you are quoting, trying to make it out that it is our fault. I QUIT. DO YOU HEAR ME? I QUIT!’ shrieked Veda.

  Everyone in the room sat back in stunned silence at what Veda had just said. It was the absolute truth.

  ‘I quit as well. I don’t want to be a teacher at Sankalp anymore,’ said Ron, as he pushed his chair back and stood up. He had had enough too.

  ‘Oh, me too. I quit. You can write whatever you want in your precious report,’ said Kanika, as she stood up.

  Then the three of them, led by Veda, marched out of the conference room together.

  Chapter 39

  May 1997