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Authors: Ananya Ritwik; Verma Mallik

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“Meena, did you get to know about who’s replacing you?” Neeti asked with a lot of curiousness hoping against hope that she be promoted second time in 2 months and this time to become the Principal.

Madhuri popped in a question, “Is it anyone from our school?”

 

Veenu who was totally clueless about the topic of discussion and submerged in her own thoughts, decided to ask something as irrelevant as - “does my hair look bouncy today?”

 

None bothered to pay attention to the question of hers and instead decided to pay rapt attention to every syllable that came out of Singhal’s mouth.
One could very well imagine how fruitful it would have been had all Heads (included: VP1, VP2 and HM) decided to pay half as much attention to Singhal while she was still running the show, it would have saved the typist the trouble of typing the retirement application and in turn would have allowed Singhal to fill her coffers for a few more years till she would retire gracefully in the truest terms.

Life was unfair
, thought Singhal. And although she very well knew who’d be replacing her as the Principal; the bitch inside her prevented her from disclosing the name. Her
much
loved colleagues needed some thrill in life and that name would surely turn out to be a rude shock. And hence, Singhal got all the more reason to sit on the name.

“Might also be you, you know,” she looked at Dr.Madhuri.

“Or you maybe?” the very next instant her face was at Veenu, who clearly seemed disinterested in the post.

Singhal awakened the Socrates in her and started mumbling stuff like how anyone out of them would do justice to the job, how it really didn’t matter who was the Principal and how the school was like a family, etc. After all these years of displaying sanity, it seemed that it had deserted Singhal on the last night of hers at school.

 

Although most characters were around that evening when the champagne bottle was uncorked, one lady of eminence was indeed missing and she w
as Ms.
Muskaan
Kaur.
In her mid forties, Muskaan Kaur was the princess-in-waiting to the throne of the Principal of
Delhi High School
. Conniving, shrewd and deadly; she possessed all qualities that would take her to the top. And those qualities weren’t just for show but for functioning as well. An ordinary teacher, six years old in school got to use the Principal’s standby car as a mode of transport – was anything else required to explicate the effect Muskaan had had on the crème de la crème of the
Delhi High School
Managing Trust? None questioned Muskaan’s authority. Those who dared
,
never were seen again to tell the tale. An itchy wart, she had everything in her to make the toughest of people grimace in pain. She never wanted positions of authority as she had enough influence
already. W
hat she
did want
was
an
unfelt
presence in every person’s head. And she got that
without effort, almost
everytime
.
   

 

“Where’s
Muskaan
? I don’t see her around.” the Vice-Chairman pointed out loud, picking up his fifth glass of champagne.

A senior management member’s interest in knowing the whereabouts of an ordinary (on paper) teacher sparked off a row of whispered conversations.
And soon ‘Who’s the next Principal?’ was replaced with a simpler question ‘Where is
Muskaan
?’

 

*

 

Amidst the chaos that surrounded her absence,
Muskaan
Kaur unperturbed stood near the Ladies’ Washroom of the reception, waiting for her colleague to finish with her flushing. The door knob turned and out came a lady in her early fifties, short, fat and with toad like features. She had dark rings of
kajal
below her eyes which made her look pretty much like an over-fed raccoon.

“It’s dirty inside,” the lady said laying undue stress on the alphabet ‘S’.

“Is it?”
Muskaan
asked in a hoarse tone.

The lady nodded and walked ahead with
Muskaan
tottering behind.

“So what do you suggest
Bindu
? Should we make the announcement today?”
Muskaan
asked.

“No…” the lady called
Bindu
had a techno voice. It reminded one of the way Martians spoke in mov
i
es.

“…we need to wait,” she finished.

“Why not today? Everyone would be drunk by the end of the party. It would be ideal I tell you, do you have issues with Chandra? If yes, then I can speak to him.”
Muskaan
left no stone unturned in reminding
Bindu
about her proximity to the Chairman.

“It is not about Chairman Sir, it is not even about Meena, I don’t think this occasion warrants an announcement. What’s the harm in waiting?”
Bindu
inquired.

“Can’t you understand what kind of a demoralizing affect it can have on the likes of Veenu and Madhuri? See sense
BK
. I know you’ve been out of touch all these years, but you got to trust me on this,” she added a few words in a Punjabi dialect.

Bindu
stopped surging ahead with the speed of an ostrich like she was a moment back. Now, she stood her ground, shifted her gaze towards
Muskaan
’s cold eyes.

“Are you sure?”
Bindu
asked, yet again laying unnecessary stress on the alphabet ‘S’.

Muskaan
placed her hand on
Bindu
Kalsi
’s arm, “Trust me. I won’t let you down.”

 

A few hundred meters away, the conspicuous absence of Muskaan had become a hot topic of discussion. Mr. A. Chandrashekhar trotted towards the table where all the Heads of
DHS
were seated.
On seeing him, Neeti Chopra instantly got up to offer her chair which he politely refused.

“Can I have a word with you Meena?” He asked. “…alone,” which was an immediate addition to his sentence.

Meena Singhal got up and both of them moved a few paces towards the counter where the bottles of mineral water were arranged.

“Meena, you have to make the announcement to your Staff before you leave. I don’t want rebellions here.” He coughed.

“As far as my knowledge was concerned, a couple of months back Sir, you were the very person who suggested that my continued presence would cause an internal revolt. What’s with the new Principal being a cause of that?” Singhal minced no words.

“It’s not that Meena. You are yet to realize why I am circumspect about our new Principal. You know
na
she’s been out for long and with experienced and senior hands like Madhuri around, it might get difficult for her to work if the Staff doesn’t take it down too well.”

“You mean to say, that you didn’t take any feelers from the staff before deciding upon who succeeds me?” Singhal was shocked.

“Of course I did. But two random staff members aren’t the representative of the entire teaching faculty. And besides, I had thought about your idea of promoting Madhuri but try to understand, as the Chairman of the Trust – I am in many ways answerable to its’ founder member, who in this case is the father of the person who is succeeding you.” He avoided Singhal’s gaze.

“You were pressurized?”

“Of course I wasn’t. An entire Board took the decision for Christ’s sake,” Chandrashekhar for the first time lost his cool.

“You knew and so did the Board that Madhuri was the best person for the job, why this lady all of a sudden?”

A.Chandrashekhar chose not to reply. After a few seconds of silence he spoke, “Will you or will you not make the announcement to your staff Meena? Delay your departure by a day and hold a Staff Meeting to make the announcement, don’t leave it to others to make the announcement.”

And just then, there was a loud screeching noise and the loudspeakers roared to life, “May I have your attention please,” it was the impeccable English accent of Ms. Muskaan Kaur.

 

The buzz in the audience died down as all eyes turned towards the elevated platform that was set up to act as a stage.

“As a member of the teaching faculty of
Delhi High School
, it’d be an honour for me to call up on stage, Mr. A.Chandrashekhar, our respected Chairman Sir to duly announce the name of the person who is all set to carry the flame of
DHS
forward and hence take forward the legacy of Mrs.Singhal. Sir if you may?” Muskaan moved away from the podium towards the left of the stage gesturing the Chairman to join her.

 

The announcement came as a bolt out of the blue for the Chairman. Just a moment ago, he was persuading Mrs. Singhal to delay her departure so that the name of the new Principal could be announced just at the right moment and the very next moment, he finds himself adjusting the height of the mike and clearing his throat – in readiness to announce the very same name.

Considering how embarrassing it might look, in utter dismay, the Chairman slowly made his way onto the stage.

“Thank you Muskaan for giving me this privilege to announce the name of the next Principal of
DHS
,” a plastic smile followed.

There was silence all around as the Chairman took his time to frame his sentence.

“Twenty eight years ago, her father started off this Trust from his small apartment in East Delhi. And soon it grew into a reputed name in the field of providing quality education to one and all.
It was her father, the erstwhile Principal of this school and the founder member of the
DHS
Trust who initiated this great legacy. And who better than his own daughter to carry it forward? I take this moment in time to announce that the new Principal of
Delhi High School
is none other than the daughter of Mr. Chavan, Mrs.
Bindu
Kalsi
,” The last few lines were well spaced out to take in audience response conveniently.

 

A large round of applause engulfed the front lawns of
Delhi High School
. And as the clapping died down, there was sense of insecurity amongst all present. The times were changing and so were the camps, one didn’t know who
to
rally around and who to trust.
No-one spoke a word apart from the customary ‘It-was-shocking’ looks. Dr. Madhuri Singh had already began cracking a few complex algorithms in her head, if someone felt deeply cheated then it was her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE

 

Rishav scanned
the
huge space called the Multipurpose Hall to look for a suitable place to sit. He neither
 
wanted to appear desperate nor a creepy loner. He chose a strategic seat in the middle. Not too close to the teachers, not too close to the bac
kb
enchers. The hall was partially filled but the flurry of students didn’t stop. Three-fourth of the entire Class XI was already there while the rest were strolling their way across. There was the usual chatter that filled the air. The old friends were catching up. There was a lot to say, a lot to hear. It had been only a month after the Board exams but seemed like an eternity to the people who had gone away, some who had stayed, some who had just relaxed after one whole year of slogging.

BOOK: Anyone Else But You...
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