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Authors: Milind Bokil

Shala (15 page)

BOOK: Shala
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I
started attending the tuition classes in earnest. Shirodkar too was sincere. But within a few days, I realized that this was just another form of school. At least in school, we had enough time to play some prank or the other, but in this class there was no time at all. Moreover, I had no friends here. My school would get over at 5:20. I would have just enough time to go home, drop my bag, gulp down a cup of tea and leave for tuition class. Shirodkar too must be experiencing similar problems. We had no time after the class. It would be dark and she would head home with the other girls.

It dawned on me that this was taking me nowhere. It was just a waste of time. She would never know the real reason for my joining the class. She never looked at me in the class. She seemed to have forgotten all the things I had done for her sake—the beating I got in Bendre ma’am’s class, the grass doll in the Scouts period and the way I had stared at her in the Social Science exam—everything! She did not show any interest, even if she harboured it. As Naru mama rightly said, ‘No one can fathom a girl’s thoughts!’

I knew each day was being wasted. There was no point in continuing in this fashion. I thought of the long road ahead. We had to clear ninth, tenth, go to college, find a job…I had to make a start! I knew I would not get any time or opportunity next year. Class ten was no joke! Ambabai and Aaisaheb would sit on my head and not allow me to breathe. And then we had eleventh and twelfth standards, too, to boot! The pressure would only escalate. What is the guarantee she would be in my class then? She would, in all probability, opt for Arts. If by then we were going steady, I could ask her to join the same college as mine. Colleges normally have both Science and Arts streams. Even if she did not join my college we could meet every evening. I would study all day and spend all evening with her! I would get into engineering. And then I would not care if everyone came to know of our affair. I could tell them proudly and roam around without a care in the world.

I could see the road ahead with clarity. The problem was solving the issue at hand. Now! But Shirodkar seemed immune to all this. I had no clue how to let her know. I was tempted to write to Naru mama seeking advice. I could use the fictional character of Manoj Desai, but I was worried he may say something to Aaisaheb. So I dropped the idea.

O
ne day I decided to excuse myself from Pingle saying I had to go to Misal’s house. I left the moment the class got over and moved towards the lane leading to Shirodkar’s house. I stood near a shop. It was getting dark and she would not see me standing there.

I spotted Shirodkar walking along with two other girls. One of them was Mande from our class; the other girl was not known to me. I began to follow them at a safe distance, walking slowly. They turned near the temple and walked along Gandhi road. The other road led to the stone well and I knew that they would not go that way. They turned again near the kirana store. There were a few lights on the road, but it was not bright enough. Mande turned and went into a lane and the other two continued walking. The road led to Phadke Hospital and further to the tamarind tree. I knew Shirodkar’s house would come soon. There was a small lane next to the road. The two stopped there for a moment and then, seeing her friend off, Shirodkar walked ahead, alone.

My heart began to throb. My lips went dry. The Municipality lights had been lit, but the overgrown trees blocked most of the light. She was wearing a dark skirt and a white-and-yellow floral print blouse. She walked at her own pace, unaware I was following her.

As expected, the lane turned towards her house. The lane had a row of houses, most of them covered by big trees. There were no shops on the road, nor any traffic. She could have easily spotted me if she had turned around just once.

I was expecting her to reach the tamarind tree and then turn into the lane leading to her house, but she jumped over a narrow drain near a house and vanished. Probably this was a short cut.

I followed suit, jumping over the drain. She came into sight again and I realized the road ended right in front of the Devgiri bungalow next to her house. So this was her route; no wonder I had never seen her while waiting under the tamarind tree.

Before I could reach the road, she had gone inside the house. The Devgiri bungalow stood silently in the darkness. Waiting there any further was of no use. But now I had discovered the route she took. I returned home, floating on air.

T
he next day I was trying to think of an excuse to shrug off Pingle, but luckily he did not turn up. What a relief. It would be great if he were to be absent each day. I had decided I would follow her the moment the class got over.

As expected, the three girls took the same route. The other girl did not turn into the lane leading to her house but continued walking with Shirodkar. I had a fleeting doubt Shirodkar had seen me following them. I kept a safe distance. They both went into Shirodkar’s house. Maybe the other girl needed to borrow a notebook. I lingered and on my return encountered the girl accompanying Shirodkar. I wondered whether she recognized me. She might have wondered what I was doing in that part of the town, but I coolly ignored her and continued walking past. I had expected Shirodkar to come see her off at the gate, but there was no one there. The lamp in the verandah burnt brightly.

I
analysed the situation carefully. It was not possible to excuse myself from Pingle every day. Following the girls too seemed a waste of time. They went together most of the way and, after seeing off her friends, Shirodkar, briskly walked through the lane leading to her house giving me hardly any time to speak to her. It was not worth the while to let her know I was following them. Girls don’t like being followed. It scares them off.

I had to create a situation where I could meet her coming in from the opposite direction. It had to look like a chance meeting.

I realized I had been a fool to take the same batch as hers. A total idiot! Had I taken the next batch I could have easily met her before the classes began. Deshmane sir had been asking me to take the next batch. But there was no possibility of changing batches now. I could sit and curse my luck forever.

I thought hard and came to a conclusion. There was no need to change the batch. All I had to do was to bunk the tuition classes and meet her on the road.

I was a little scared about my bold decision. I was not nervous about Deshmane sir. He never asked anyone why he or she was absent. He never took attendance, in fact. But the question was—where to wait for her?

Then it struck me that the best place to meet her was on the way back home. I had to meet her either in the narrow lane or on the road leading to her house where she would be alone. The lane was normally empty and would serve as a good place to meet her.

I had to plan it to the last minute. The classes got over at five past seven. The girls would spend a few minutes chatting and then they would walk back home. It would take them say ten or fifteen minutes to walk the distance. I had to meet her after she had said her goodbyes. I realized I had to while away an hour at least. But I did not have a wristwatch with me. How would I know the right time?

‘B
aba, I need a wristwatch,’ I asked, when we sat down for dinner.

‘Watch?’ Baba asked, arching his eyebrows.

‘Yes. How do I keep track of the time? I go for the tuition classes these days.’

Baba looked at Aaisaheb. Ambabai focused on her food. She’s a smart cookie and does not want to give her opinion in such situations. Aaisaheb did not say anything either.

‘Else, give me her watch,’ I said, looking at Ambabai. ‘I need it only in the evening.’

My trick worked. Ambabai looked up and waited for Aaisaheb to respond. Aaisaheb came to my rescue.

‘You have a spare one, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Why don’t you allow him to wear it? You have kept it for him in any case.’

‘Okay,’ Baba agreed. ‘Don’t forget to wind it up every day.’

The watch was old but functional. It had a steel strap. I would have preferred a black leather one, but since I had got what I wanted, I decided to keep quiet. I wore the watch to school the very next day.

The classes went on as usual, but I was there only for one reason—Shirodkar! I was unable to concentrate on anything else. We boys used to meet, as usual, at our adda, but there was no fun now. We had stopped teasing Sukdi and I would be very quiet if Shirodkar passed by. Surya too would just gaze at Kevda. There was a science exhibition in school and Chitre was busy with his experiments. He was making a railway signalling system, so he would come in late, sometimes carrying yellow and red wires with him. Phawdya would arrive as usual, huffing and puffing his way up the stairs.

I had planned to bunk the tuition classes that day, but then it dawned on me that I needed to time the entire activity of following Shirodkar. I managed to give Pingle a slip and then noted the exact timings, minute by minute. The class got over at 6:56 and we were out at 6:58. The girls left at two minutes past seven and reached the temple at five past seven. They went into Suvarna Novelties and spent around six minutes there. They left the place at eleven past seven reaching Gandhi road, fourteen past seven at Dedhiya Kirana and then stood for a few minutes at the entrance of the lane leading to Shirodkar’s friend’s house. I was noting the timings as I followed them. It took half an hour for her to reach home. Had she come in directly she would have taken fourteen minutes. It meant she was likely to arrive anytime after ten minutes past seven.

The next day I bunked the classes. I left home and wondered how I would spend an hour. I deliberated if I could spend time at Phawdya’s stall, but then it would make him suspicious. He knew I had tuition classes at that hour. I went to the free Municipal library. Anyone can come and read there. The building is quite old and has a high ceiling. A few large trees outside it provide shade. There are a few fans and some large relaxing chairs inside. Several people simply come there to take a nap. You can spend a thousand hours there without anyone bothering you.

I whiled away my time and left at quarter to seven. I could have left at seven o’ clock as it would not have taken more than five minutes, but I did not want to take any chances. What if the clock in the tuition class was running a bit slow?

I wandered around for a while and reached the tree five minutes before seven and stood under its shade. I had around twenty minutes to spare. I was willing to wait for twenty thousand minutes. There was a huge peepal tree on one side. I recognized the tree from the shape of its leaves. We used to keep them pressed in our books. I had a vantage position as I could see both the lanes leading to her house. There was a huge yellow lamp across the street so one could clearly see a person approaching. The lane was silent.

Small flies buzzed around the lamp while mosquitoes hummed overhead. I could hear the chirping of crickets too. I had willed myself to take this chance, but there was a deep sense of fear—the kind of feeling one gets before the beginning of an examination, or just before the announcement of the results. My eyes and ears were alert and the body was tense. For a few moments, I had a strong urge to run away. And yet, I did not feel like moving away from that place. Time crawled and, when I looked at the watch, it was ten past seven. She was expected any moment now. My body was tingling with excitement. I wanted to quickly run and pee at the edge of the road, but I could not make myself move from the place.

Then I heard a cycle bell. I got nervous for a moment and thought it would be nice if I walked about a little to show I was not lying in wait there, but the cyclist did not notice me. He pedalled away vigorously and I continued standing there.

It was quarter past seven now. My eyes darted to my watch every other second. It had a radium-coated dial, which glowed in the dark. The seconds hand ticked away rapidly. But Shirodkar was nowhere to be seen.

I was getting a little worried now. Did I make some mistake in my calculation? Was Shirodkar likely to have crossed the lane earlier? But that was not possible. I was there at seven. And no one had passed by. She was probably chatting with her friends and would arrive by 7:30.

I decided to hold fort. A man accompanied by two small children walked by. I was tempted to move, but then they had already seen me, so I continued to stand at my place. The children looked at me, but they did not say anything.

It was getting dark now. The mosquitoes were biting me and the breeze turned cold. The winters here are not as cold as at Naru mama’s place, but it gets dark pretty early. It was getting colder now and the days were getting shorter. The smallest day of the year would arrive soon.

It was half past seven and then it was thirty-five minutes past. There was no point in waiting any more. I decided to go back, checking the tuition class en route. There was a chance I might meet Shirodkar on the way.

I walked down the road looking carefully. Although there was no need to do so as there was no one on the road. Besides, the street lamps were bright enough. Two old ladies went by, followed by a few men returning from office. But Shirodkar and her friends were nowhere to be seen. I crossed the lane where her friend stayed. I could smell the dinner being cooked in various kitchens. But there was no one standing there.

I walked all the way to the tuition classes, but there was no one outside. The next batch was in full swing.

My plan had failed. Possibly Shirodkar had taken another route. Perhaps she had some errand to run. Or she was sitting at some friend’s house. Anything was possible.

It was eight by the time I reached home.

S
hirodkar came to school as usual, blissfully unaware of my efforts for her. Paranjpe ma’am was teaching the poem ‘Chitraveena’. She was wearing a blue saree with a matching blouse and looked beautiful. I was listening attentively. One could imagine the rain falling listening to the poem.

‘The cloud forms a black shadow on the blue waters

The rice fields burst forth with their ripe grains

BOOK: Shala
9.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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