by Abha Dawesar
When the break bell rang I grabbed Sheela and led her out of class. We went and stood in the shade of a large gulmohar tree.
“Why are we here?” Sheela asked.
“We are waiting for Vidur. We need to talk,” I said.
“About what?”
“You’ll see,” I said mysteriously, though I had no plan.
We saw Vidur walking toward us across the PT field. The bright sun made him squint.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I have decided to go to America,” I said to them both.
“You have?” Sheela said, surprised.
“Yes, I made an appointment with the USEFI counselor.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Vidur asked.
“You’re my friends,” I said, looking from Vidur to Sheela.
Vidur picked at the bark, getting dirt under his fingernails. He looked morose.
“Listen, Vidur, I need to make peace with you,” I said.
“Why, because you are going away?” he asked.
“No, because this is silly,” I said, pointing to Sheela and myself.
“We’re all friends, isn’t that what matters?” Sheela asked him.
“Well, the two of you seem to be more than that,” he said.
“Come on, Vidur. At our age nothing is serious. It’s not like we’re doing anything together,” Sheela said. She smiled her charming smile and looked at him without blinking. I wondered if she really believed it. Strictly speaking it was almost true; what happened alone between Sheela and me was nothing compared to what I did with India and Rani. I was almost convinced myself.
“Is that true?” Vidur asked, looking at me for corroboration.
“She told you,” I said.
There was an immediate change in Vidur. He stopped playing with the bark of the tree and placed his hand on his hip. He relaxed.
“You’ll leave India?” he asked, changing the topic.
I thought of India the woman and not the country. I would have to leave her if I went away.
“It’s just four years. I’ll come back after I finish my studies.”
“My cousin said that, and now he’s working in New York.”
I didn’t want Vidur to compare me to his cousin. Did his cousin love India as much as I did? Was he trying to score one on me with Sheela?
“I think you should come with me to the USEFI and apply abroad,” I said to neither of them in particular.
“I’m not leaving,” Sheela said immediately.
“I’m joining the army. I’m never going to leave India, either,” Vidur said. I didn’t want him to think I was a traitor through and through, betraying both him and the country.
“All our great leaders studied abroad—Gandhiji, Nehru, Subhash Chandra Bose, Ambedkar. If they hadn’t maybe we would never have had the freedom movement or won our independence from the British,” I said.
“But we’re already independent,” Sheela said.
“India needs us,” Vidur said. I imagined India, her sheet wrapped around her body, and me knocking on her door in the middle of the night, needing her just as much as she needed me.
“He’s right,” Sheela said. For a second it felt as if they were a couple, like Arni and Deepak. The bell rang, and we trudged across the field in the heat.
Compared to the fierce summer light outside, the school building was as dark as a dungeon inside. We stopped for a second to let our eyes adjust. As we neared the classroom, Vidur and I veered toward the watercooler. Sheela saw Ashima and walked in her direction.
“Why does everyone think the West is better?” Vidur asked me.
“It isn’t that. We are just bound by so many constraints here. Even in our choice of subjects, each decision restricts us further rather than setting us free. It’s like marriage.”
“You think it’s different anywhere else? At least this is our own country.”
We had reached the watercooler, and I bent down to drink. Then I wiped my mouth with my handkerchief as I waited for Vidur to have his drink.
“Anyway, I think you should study abroad just so that you can see for yourself how it is better and how it is worse. So that you can improve India later, after you come back,” I said.
“If you go you won’t come back. You’ll change,” he said.
“We’ll see.”
We entered our classroom just in time to hear a high-pitched scream. It was Sheela. Vidur and I ran to her desk. Ashima and a couple of boys were standing around her desk. She had her hands up to her ears, blocking them, and her eyes were shut. She screamed again. I was about to pull her hands away to ask what was going on when Vidur nudged my elbow and pointed to her desk. There was a translucent rubbery thing on it. Ashima had a look of total disgust on her face. I thought it was a condom but I couldn’t be sure. I had never seen one. I raised my eyebrow in a question mark.
“Condom,” Vidur muttered under his breath. How did he know?
Mr. Garg had walked into class. I noticed that Chakra Dev was back at his desk. The image of his hand in his pocket flashed to my mind.
“Sir,” I called out to Mr. Garg. Sheela died with embarrassment.
He came up to us and looked at Sheela’s desk. His face turned red like a chili.
“Who did that? Which bastard did that?” he roared.
“Chakra Dev,” I said calmly. I had no doubt he had done something fishy in the boys’ room during the break.
There was a collective gasp. All eyes turned to him.
He got up from his seat, his usual haughty self, and looked at everyone, his shoulders defiantly square and his head held high. Mr. Garg walked toward him. I walked with Mr. Garg.
“Did you do it?” Mr. Garg yelled, moving closer to him.
“No, she’s lying,” he said. So cool and calm, even I could have been taken.
“Anamika is the Head Prefect, she doesn’t lie,” Mr. Garg shouted.
I was near Chakra Dev now. I raised my hand and brought it squarely against his face with all my might. Slapping him on his left cheek and then, before he or Mr. Garg or anyone else could recover, I gave him an equally vicious one on the right.
Mr. Garg stood rooted to the spot. Chakra Dev had brought both his hands protectively to his cheeks but a little late. His nostrils were flaring. He was seething.
With no warning Chakra Dev cut the air with his hands and brought them down on my neck with a snarl. I saw his teeth and felt the pressure of his thumb on my neck. Mr. Garg, who had remained entirely petrified till now, flew into his face. Vidur jumped over my chair and started tearing Chakra’s hands away. There was a collective outtake of breath when Mr. Garg and Vidur had him in their control.
“We need to take him to the principal. He’s threatened me before,” I said calmly. My heart was thumping in my chest, and my body felt very hot. But on the exterior I had already regained control.
“Let’s go,” Mr. Garg said, holding Chakra Dev by his collar.
“I’ll come, too,” Vidur said, leaving no room for argument. We all marched off. I heard the slow hum of voices start up behind us as soon as we left class.
Mr. Garg asked Vidur and me to wait outside the office while he took Chakra Dev in.
“You shouldn’t have slapped him. Even teachers aren’t allowed to,” Vidur whispered.
“I slapped him this morning, too,” I said.
“When?”
“Right after assembly. We were alone in class. He was acting badly, as usual.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” For a moment I felt that Vidur and I were best friends again.
I shrugged.
“Are you sure he was the one who left the condom?” Vidur asked.
“Yes.”
“And you wanted Sheela to talk to him!” Vidur exclaimed, looking at me in disgust as if my suggestion had been as unclean and slimy as the condom.
I shrugged again, though I knew he was right from a rational point of view.
I knew
that not a single other teacher, not even Mrs. Pillai, would have put up with my slapping another kid. Mr. Garg was possibly the only person in the school who would have stood by me. I was lucky it had happened in his period.
Mr. Garg came out and told Vidur to come back to class with him. The princi had asked to see me alone with Chakra Dev.
“I told him how you stuck out your neck for him just before schools closed. Does he have a written apology?” the princi asked.
I looked at Chakra Dev, who stared at the wall.
“No, he doesn’t. I even called him when schools were closed, hoping to have a civil discussion,” I said.
“Did she call you?” the princi asked. Not even the rowdiest boys had any nerve in front of him. His large frame commanded instant respect.
“Yes, sir,” he said, then added, “she had a Playboy.”
“She had what?” the princi asked.
“Playboy magazine, in German,” Chakra Dev said imperiously. My heart was thudding in my chest. I would end up being suspended from school now. I was afraid my face was turning red and the principal would know it was true.
“Mr. Chakra Dev Yadav, what makes you think your word would hold up against the Head Prefect’s?” the princi said, not even bothering to look at me. I was relieved. I had regained my calm.
“Ask her,” Chakra stated confidently, looking me straight in the eye.
The princi swirled around to look at me.
“No, sir. It’s an absurd allegation,” I said without batting an eyelid. Did Chakra Dev think I was as self-destructive as he was? I rarely lied, but I had enough common sense to know that it was absolutely necessary in this case.
“I am going to suspend you,” the princi said to him. I wondered how long it would take Chakra Dev to relent and grovel and apologize. There wasn’t a whimper from him, but beads of sweat broke out on his face.
“Do you want to be suspended? I don’t think your mother will like it,” I said suddenly. It wasn’t my turn to speak. Normally this would have been impermissible when the principal was meting out justice, but this was the boy for whom I’d stuck out my neck earlier.
He looked at me and then at the principal.
“No, sir, I’d rather not be suspended,” he said, too boldly.
“Yadav,” the princi roared, “you would have been suspended before the school closings had it not been for this lady’s good offices.”
“I am sorry, sir.”
“Sir, can we give him another chance?” I hadn’t planned on coming to his aid. I had opened my mouth, and the words had spilled out on their own.
“What?” the principal asked, looking at me incredulously. Even Chakra Dev looked shocked.
The principal stared hard at me and then at Chakra Dev.
“Go wait outside,” he said, looking at Chakra Dev, who walked out of the office.
“What’s this nonsense, Anamika?” the princi scolded when we were alone.
“Sir, I think he has family problems,” I said, trying to come up with a good reason. I remembered that Sheela had mentioned his anger at his father.
The princi buzzed the school counselor on the intercom. “Mrs. Shah, do you have the files for Chakra Dev Yadav? He’s caused trouble before.”
While he waited for Mrs. Shah to get back to him, he put his hand on the mouthpiece and said to me, “Really, Anamika, I have to question your judgment on this one.”
“Yes, Mrs. Shah,” he said, removing his hand from the mouthpiece. I wondered if there was more to Chakra Dev than I knew.
“Both parents alive. No divorce. Anything else?” the princi asked and then hung up. “His problem is himself, Anamika,” he said, looking up at me from behind his desk.
“Isn’t that everyone’s problem?” I asked boldly. My problem was definitely myself. If Chakra Dev’s was himself then it explained the affinity I felt for him.
“What do you mean?”
“Sir, if he doesn’t improve now it really will be too late,” I said. I was convinced.
“The problem, Anamika, is that he has shown no signs of wanting to improve.”
“Sir, please, for my sake. I’ve been in this school for twelve years. I’ve always had a good record. If you value me at all, please forgive him this time,” I said. My words were rushed. Even as they came tumbling out, I saw the word “compromise” in my mind, its letters expanding and contracting like a rubber band.
“What are you trying to say, Anamika?”
“Sir, I’ll have to resign my Head Prefectship if you don’t forgive him,” I said recklessly. Now I was sure I had blown it. The princi would see it as a threat and suspend not just Chakra Dev but me. As I spoke I felt my resolve get harder and harder. I would be stubborn and unbudging, like Mina who failed to trot in the horse riding ground even if Sameer Bhaiyya beat her with a stick.
“Mandal has driven you kids mad,” the princi muttered.
I imagined giving up my badge and Prefect’s tie. The whole school would be talking about it. After the excitement died down, I’d be just like any other student. All the enemies I’d made in the course of my duties would feel free to taunt me. In the end it wouldn’t matter whether I had resigned of my own will or been divested. The only thing that would count would be that I had no more power.
“What is taking you down this road, Anamika?” he asked.
I stood in silence, trying to reflect, but I could not think at all. Images of Chakra Dev’s hand in his pocket, his stranglehold on my neck, the condom on Sheela’s desk kept coming to my mind. I saw the princi move some papers on his desk impatiently.
“I can’t accept failure. I’m determined not to lose to his sort,” I said. I was sure that, having known me for many years, the princi would buy this.
“I will let him go lightly this time. But there is a condition,” he said and paused.
“What is the condition, sir?”
“You will have to resign if he misbehaves again,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand why I am doing this? I can’t let a rowdy student go unpunished just because the Head Prefect has a soft corner for him. So as a true leader, if you take responsibility for your troops, you have to fall with them when they fall,” he said.
I nodded. In the years he had been the principal he had lectured us every week on leadership, responsibility, moral duty, becoming a better person. I knew exactly how he thought.
The princi buzzed for the bahadur and asked him to send Chakra Dev back in. I stood in his office squeezing my palms tighter and tighter. The full impact of the conversation hit me. I was so used to the privilege of my position, the singularity it afforded me in the school, that I knew I would feel stripped without it. Humiliated, ashamed, powerless, and indeed naked.
Chakra Dev came in and stood at attention in front of the princi.
“You are one lucky hoodlum, but I will leave it to Anamika to tell you why,” the principal said, handing a sheet of school letterhead and a pen to Chakra Dev.
“Sit there and write an apology statement,” he instructed, pointing to the sofa for visitors, then added, “if you are rounded up for causing trouble again you will be expelled from school without any yellow cards or warning suspensions. I want you to state that and acknowledge it in your apology. And return a copy signed by your father to my office tomorrow.”
“My father is not in the country, sir,” Chakra Dev said.
“Then get your mother to sign it,” the princi said.
“Anamika, I hope you have a lot of faith in him,” the princi said, rising from his seat. He walked to where I was standing, touched my shoulder lightly, and whispered, “For your sake, I hope it works.”
I walked back to class thinking about what had happened. Being named Head Prefect was a reward for all my years in the school. The Prefectorial Ceremony was the biggest event in the school each year. The Head’s appointment was debated internally by the teachers and the previous year’s Prefects with great passion
for months. My parents had been incredibly proud when I was invested with the position. Even my classmates had celebrated. I would have a lot of explaining to do if I were forced to resign. No one would believe I was doing it voluntarily for Chakra Dev. Rumors would start that I had done something wrong, like cheat or steal, and that to save face a resignation had been accepted in place of an impeachment. Staking my badge for Chakra Dev was like staking twelve years of my school life—my hard work, my grades, my extracurricular accomplishments. Was all of this worth it for a mere “soft corner,” if indeed that was what it was for?
When I got back to class I discovered Sheela sitting next to Vidur, the offending piece of latex still on her desk, and the class, between copying physics formulae, turning around every so often to make sure it was still there. I had no option but to go and sit at Chakra Dev’s desk. I casually turned to his schoolbag with the pretense of taking out his physics book and tried to see if it held any other clues to his soul.
Chakra Dev returned to class after Mr. Garg’s period had ended. Hydrogen Sulfide was late as usual, so there was no teacher when he came to claim his desk.
Politely and softly, so that no one else could hear, I asked him to remove the condom and clean Sheela’s desk. I gave him my handkerchief.
“You can toss the hanky once you’re done,” I said.
Without arguing or saying anything snide he walked over to Sheela’s desk. Everyone was watching. The class had never been so silent in the absence of a teacher. He borrowed a piece of paper from someone and picked up the condom with it. Then he wiped the desk a few times with my hanky and put it in his pocket.
He walked back to my desk, where Sheela was still seated, and said to her, “I am sorry for doing that. Now you can go back.”
Sheela was too taken aback to say anything. She lifted her books from my desk and left. The class started to murmur again as attention lifted from Chakra Dev.
“I took the liberty of taking out your physics book,” I said.
“It’s okay,” he said. Then he put his hand in his pocket. I was terrified that he would produce the hanky. Despite all my prurient interest and my instincts for playing the devil, I did not want to touch it.
