Authors: Latika Sharma
“Say, Vikram now that you are booked, how about a bachelor’s party? Your mates planning something for you?” I asked wiping my sweat, despite the winter season as our game was superb!
“Ha, these things happen in your USA, not in India, friend... All our events are family events. I will have loads of old uncles and aunts and their daughter in-laws, in their flowing sarees in every event in my house. Soon everyone will be giving me free advice on happy married life, highlighting their married crisis and how even I would soon be one of them . . . a troubled married man, bullied by his wife. And yes, there will be booze and their century old jokes and more booze . . . can’t complete an Indian evening without it!” Vikram rolled his eyes.
I agreed with him. When my sister had gotten married an year ago, it had been a huge family affair. I was driven mad with all MY aunts wanting to tie me up with their relative’s daughters. I even had one girl shown to me. I had to tell my mother that if this tomfoolery did not cease, I would actually ditch my own beloved sister’s wedding and fly back to States. So she had put me in-charge of driving everyone around; from the dress designers, to the caterers, the jewellers, the sweets merchants and the beauty salons. I knew my way pretty well around in Delhi after that.
“Well that’s not bad. But can’t be compared to what I have in mind for you!” I gave him a sly look and Vikram smiled back mischievously. For the first time I saw streaks of youth and mania in his very mature and obviously well concealing eyes.
“When?” He asked me. Obviously Vikram was more like me than I thought. Or let’s say that all men agree on certain topics.
I had realised this soon after we started playing sports together. Though he was never in a school team, he had remained a member of the gym ever since his teen years. Despite the fact that he travelled a lot and had a busy schedule, I appreciated the fact that Vikram always made time for entertainment and fitness. He was lively and cheerful and everyone in the gym liked him. I knew, had circumstances been different between us, we would have been great comrades. Nevertheless, we were friends and he was excited about his wedding. So I had to tag along as well. I did like his nature, despite all odds, so I could never truly dislike the man.
“You’ll know soon.” I said and trotted back to our game. A plan had already started formulating in my mind.
I
had always wanted to go back to our school. It had so many good memories. So the onset of my plan began from there.
I had asked Vikram to get Riya as well for our trip. I had mentioned she may refuse, but that he must show that he was the man of the relationship and get her anyhow.
“After all, she must know you will run the house hold one day and she will have to listen to you”. That kind of male ego boosting must have done the trick as I saw Vikram drive to my building and getting out of the car was Riya, rigid and reluctant.
Manya was present too. I need her today to arouse female jealousy. We greeted our guests and offered them drinks. I saw Riya avoiding my looks. Manya sat chatting with her, obviously about the upcoming wedding. Riya made small talks and often accompanied Manya into the kitchen. A typical Indian get-together.
“So Vikram, have you planned where you’ll take Riya for your honeymoon?” Manya asked, snuggling coyly next to me on ourvery small sofa. The house was beautifully decorated and there were lamps lit everywhere. Manya loved candles and so there were some gorgeous candle settings next to all sofas and in their dim sweet light, we looked like a couple deep in love. I thought it was the perfect setting.
“No, not yet, but anywhere that Riya wants to go will be my choice too.” Vikram gave the perfect reply.
“Oh! How sweet! Riya you are a lucky woman to have someone think so much for you. I think no one can love you more than Vikram . . . right?” Brilliant girl, I thought to myself.
Riya looked at Manya and smiled. I saw her steal a look in my direction and I nodded lightly. Lunch was served. Later, I invited both of them to accompany me and Manya for a surprise outing.
“Where are we going?” Manya sounded excited. Vikram too looked surprised, Riya looked alarmed.
“Not far, but somewhere very close to my heart. Come now, it’s a surprise.” I picked up my car keys and motioned for everyone to depart. After locking up we went down the lift, jumped in our cars and I took the lead with Vikram following me.
When we reached our destination, there was nothing I wanted to do more than look at Riya’s face. She stood transfixed looking at the red granite building of our school. I waited for her to look my way and when she did her eyes spoke volumes of what she felt. As memories flashed in her mind, her eyes showed a mixture of fear and foreboding.
“Kabir, this is a school! I really don’t like schools!” Manya stood solid, folding her arms on her chest in her repulsive way.
“It’s ‘our’ school Manya, mine and Riya’s. I thought before she started her new life it would be a ‘sweet thing’ to relive her childhood days once again. After all she will be married soon and far and away from all of us . . . all of this,” I spoke gently to create the melodramatic atmosphere the girls love so much. It worked. Manya took my arm and tugged along happily.
“But will they allow us in?” Vikram asked. He too was excited to visit the place he had so much heard about.
“Ofcource! It’s the first week of January; schools are closed for winter vacations. No staff or students are there, except for sports students and senior students, those having extra classes for boards. The hostel is closed too. No problem there, I had it checked out.” I walked ahead.
As we approached the gate, a young watchman stopped us and began making routine enquiries. I tried explaining that two of us were alumni, and that we had just come to visit but he wouldn’t budge.
Riya took the opportunity and said, “Then we should leave; no point in creating a scene.” She had been waiting to escape.
“No way Riya! I will get us in, no matter what. Trust me . . . Madam Curie!” I smiled and intentionally took the guard aside. I knew Riya would need time to explain to others what Madam Curie meant.
“Kabir
baba
is that you?” I heard a long lost but familiar voice. I turned around to see an old man with thick glasses beaming his toothless smile at me. It took me time to recognise my old school watchman, Ramji.
“Ramji! You are still here?” I rushed to him and without the slightest hesitation bent down to touch his feet. He pulled me up and gave me a fatherly hug.
“And this must be our Riya! Oh my god how you two have grown!” Ramji was thrilled to see us.
“Ramji may we go in? We want to show our friends our school . . . please?” I asked him.
“Oh Krishna! Since when did Kabir Sharma start saying ‘please’! Ofcource you can go in captain! It is your school. Just don’t break anything or start a fight like old days.” Ramji remembered each of his students, thought it was hard forgetting me.
“He was our star! Captain of team A and then school captain! He had fire in his feet. Look how well he has done! Ofcource it’s because of our dear Riya! Yes... always been by his side helping him in all things! Go! Go! Enjoy yourself.” Ramji concluded, proudly entering our names in the ‘guest register’ maintained by him.
“Wow! Kabir . . . you are a legend here!” Manya happily linked her arm in mine. I merely smiled. I looked at Riya who was horrified, lest Ramji had been too revealing. Vikram had a mixed expression on his face, he looked curious but not all that excited anymore.
T
he first thing that struck me was how small the buildings and the parks in the campus looked. That’s the out-of-sight-out-of-mind-effect.
Later as we walked ahead I saw the familiar cycle stand with a few scooters and bicycles parked. The school gardens were blossoming with winter blooms and a sweet fragrance was greeting us. Roads had a sprawl of dried leaves; apparently the cleaners were taking it too easy.
Our school flag was fluttering in a gentle cool breeze at the famous ‘Hitler stand’. I recalled standing there many times during flag hosting, on our republic day celebrations. Ahead were our classes . . . my god how the reel of memories was unwinding in my mind! There was my eleventh grade class. I saw the window Tejas had jumped out from once to bunk the Business Studies class! There was the dust bin I had blown in tenth on Diwali! I was narrating all this to my audience, not realizing that Riya would be lost in her memories too.
“Let me show you the other important places . . . we will go up from here. This is the eleventh standard floor. There . . . canyou see . . . physics lab, and in front of it is the staff room-1. All Riya’s teachers sat there. She had science. I was a commerce nerd!” I said. I looked at everyone for their reactions. Manya was a happy spirit. Vikram was walking along with Riya and had an inquiring expression on his face. Riya was lost in her thoughts too. I thought I saw a faint smile curl up the corner of her mouth. She must have recalled something . . .
“Remembering something Riya?” I asked her. “Share it with us.”
Riya was upset with me; I saw the irritated look on her face. So I was expecting something harsh and got it soon.
“Yes . . . I was just recalling the day you broke that galvanometer or was it an ammeter . . . and Mr. Bonerjee threw you out of the class after scolding you brutally!” She looked away after her ‘casual’ remark.
“Bony hated me! The whole school knew it! He was opposition . . . I was in Tagore house and he hated me for that!” I said looking at her. I knew Riya was repenting coming here, I saw her nod.
“Wow! You two are so cute . . . I never had so much fun in my school! Your school was so much better than my convent!” Manya spoke in her childish delight. She looked very pretty today.
“Yeah! You two did have a lot of fun!” Vikram spoke. There was something in his voice that I did not like . . . I turned and led my group to the next flight of steps. Vikram was smart, no doubt.
“And here is the hallmark of our studies . . . our cherished twelfth grade corridor! You can see the handy work of last batch on the walls! And the hard work of the school Head boy & Head girl and the squad on the bulletin boards!”
There were numerous charts displayed, from sports to science to politics to arts! Every department trying to teach students to reach for excellence! Every department trying to outdo the other. I stood for a moment in front of the Tagore house bulletin board. It had some info on stem cell therapy. I touched its frills and felt an instant connection. Once, that board had my name on it too.
I looked around and saw Riya standing in front of Gandhi house board and discussing something with Vikram. She was smiling. After all she had been the House Captain in eleventh grade.
I took them to our classes; we sat on our old benches. The black boards had the familiar chalk dust on it. Outgoing students had written messages of good wishes on the board . . . their final imprint before exiting the school sanctum.
It was a little chilly in the rooms, so we soon stepped outside. I was telling tales of our yester years. Like the time when Tejas was expelled for getting a complete stranger to collect his report card. Manya was amazed at his wits and wondered how come she never thought of it herself. Vikram merely nodded his head.
I was telling them of my numerous escapes from the class rooms to the library, at the mention of which I saw Riya tense up. I intentionally continued.
“There is a corner in our library, hidden from the librarian. It’s just a small push in the wall, but creates a very cosy space. We call it, ‘The Den’. Most couples snuggled there during their library periods. For once, in our school, everyone was excited to visit the library.”
I looked at her, she was fidgeting. Her eyelids were fluctuating and I knew she feared what else I had up my sleeve, as I was sure she had understood my purpose of getting her there by now.
“The library is locked, so I can’t show you ‘The Den’. But. . . there is a better spot I want to share with you guys. Come along!”
I took them below the computer labs, around the music room.
“Look everyone, I’m tired . . . I need to sit down. You show Manya whatever, Vikram and I will go out.’ It was Riya. She knew where I was heading and clearly, she did not want to go there.
“Come on Riya . . . you don’t want to show Vikram the infamous stairs’! How many times you hid behind it . . . remember!” I looked straight at her, sharply in her eyes. She understood what I was trying to do. She tried to step away with Vikram.
“Oh! This is so cool! You guys had a name for everything! Now we need to see this . . . it sounds like a Harry Potter thing!” Manya pulled Riya along.
“This is the famous and handiest . . . ‘infamous stairs’! If you stand here . . . you will realize the wonder of architecture! You can see every corner from within its confines, but no one can see you’. Every one took turns standing there. I stood in it too.
For a moment it all came back to me! Riya was there, I was swinging close to her and she was smiling, pushing me back!
“I want to take you out, my bike misses you...” I had protested.
“Kabby are you bunking class now or were you bunking it in the last period?”A standard line I got from her.
“We can’t meet again Kabby
. . .”
the one line I never believed in.
“Don’t cry Riya, only the heart sees the pain the eyes so beautifully conceal
. . .”
She was in my arms when I had said that one.
“ Enough! Vikram, please now, let’s go out.” It was Riya.
I turned around to see her walking back toward the down stairs. Vikram jogged and joined her. Manya stood looking at them and then at me, wondering what to do next. She walked towards the closed labs, her heals clicking on the concrete floor.
I was waiting for it. Before going down the stairs, Riya turned to look at me.
I stood there, smiling at her, swinging gently.