"Geeta-Bhavan ke Samose!"

We entered the month of August with a striking realisation of how quickly the last month had flown! As the final  session of our schooling proceeded, quite a few things changed. First of all, the pressure and work-load of studies increased at an unbelievable pace. All the teachers now expected A high level of hard-work from us and their respective classes consisted of  non-stop assignments, tests,warnings and strict instructions. Speaking about myself, my worst fear had come true. Mrs. Bandi, though very sweet and warm as a person, was an extremely professional and  ‘no-nonsense’ type of a teacher. She constantly encouraged us to ask her any doubts that we might  have during the lesson and took forward her subject at a fast pace in accordance with the syllabus. I was seriously lagging behind in the subject due to my lack of interest and carelessness. Instead of gathering up the courage to dive into the subject and try to understand it, I chose to pretend, expertly, that I was following, by nodding my head and copying from Sakshi’s notebook. I knew that one day, I was going to end up in a soup when it would be time for us to appear in the board exams but the little red devil perched on my right shoulder reminded me again and again that the session had just started and I could always “pull up my socks” after a couple of months.  Even Mrs David, who was usually very easy going and lenient with us was constantly pushing us to take Economics seriously. Mrs Rubina had started giving us tests twice a week and we had admitted amongst ourselves that it was indeed helping us cover the syllabus quickly. Mrs Ghosh decided upon giving us essay-type questions and report writing as assignments as she said it WOULD help us increase our speed and we would be able to write long answers in a limited time as a practice for exams. 

The second change was a far more pleasant one for me than the previous one! Eventually, after many bus-rides, back and forth between  school and home, I had begun to find a close friend in Vyankatesh. Ever since I had joined Progressive, I had always hung out with my girl-friends and nothing felt amiss. But as Venky (I had started calling him by the same name everyone else called him by!) and I spent more and more time together, we ended up having a gala time. I was marvelled at how much fun we had in the bus. We always sat on the same seat, one right IN the middle of the bus which had a raised platform at the bottom. He saved me a seat everyday and moved aside to let me sit by the window. Venky was witty, outspoken and so funny! I suppose he also found me humorous as, shaking his head, he claimed that my booming laughter was not for faint-hearts to hear!

 Today, Venky and I were having an arm-wrestling match in the bus on our way to the school while the bunch of little fifth graders looked on with wide eyes and cheered EACH TIME THERE WAS any development.  Venky conceiled a yawn behind his free hand as I grunted and applied my full stregth with my arm. After getting exhausted of all my energy, I kicked him hard on his leg. He immediately pretended to give a loud ‘UUFFFF!’ and let me win. Our young audience –all of them boys- fell into a stunned silence.  One of them managed to squeak aloud his thoughts  to us. “Ladki se haar gae!!( lost to a girl!)”, he whispered as though this was the end of the world. My “win” was the topic of discussion till we entered the gates of the school. “Ha!” Venky guffawed, as we made our way to the main building, “As if I can ever lose to a girl!”.

 “Yeah Yeah!”, I replied, “at least you have hit an all time low with our young friends on the bus!”

 “I don’t care!”, he said, “ Am I their friend or yours?! See I am so sweet naa?” he flashed all his teeth at me as I made a  face. Just then, Sonal came rushing towards us and even before any of us could say  ‘hi’, she faced me and demanded, “Did u ask aunty, Maalu??”

 “Yes, I did and she said ‘YES’ !!”I yelled out the last word and we hugged each other with joy!.

 “Said yes to what? Sending both of you to Bareilly’s Mental hospital for a summer camp? Shrieking early in the morning like crazy!”.

“No you idiot!” Sonal said, “four of us are having a slumber-party at my place on twelfth night to celebrate my b’day, which is on the 13th by the way. We will celebrate it at midnight and have lots of fun!!!” 

“Night-stay haan? “ Avtar’s voice said from behind. We turned to see him and Amitayu walking towards us.

 “So am I invited too???” he asked, slyly.

 “Yaaa…you wish!!” Sonal and I chorused and burst out laughing.

 “I wont go there if somebody pays me to.”, Amitayu said as we made our way towards the class. “They’ll giggle like idiots the whole night and go gaga over Shahid Kapoor and some guy at the coffee house. Ladkiyaan bewakoof hoti hain.”, he added as if that ended the matter.

 “How do you know so much about slumber-parties amidaaa?” I poked him on the arm and teased him till he gave me a deadly look which sombered me at once.

Soon, Sakshi, Pratishtha , Sonal and I were sitting together, planning things for our slumber party. “Hey!”, Sonal said, “Shall we catch a movie on 12th evening with my family after I pick three of you from your homes?’ Parineeta,’  got released yesterday and I think it’s sort of an adult movie. So we can have fun commenting. What say?”.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” , Pratishtha  shouted so loudly that three of us winced. “I am never going to watch any censored movie with family again.” She said, grimacing, “its so goddamn embarassing. I went to watch ‘Page-3’ with my grandparents once. You know that film is full of adult dialogues and swear words.  It was horrible! Dada-Daadi made me sit in between with each of them on either side and Dadaji, short of hearing as he is, kept on asking me after every dialogue – “Hain, kya bol raha hai”, ye kya boli?” They were the worst three hours of my life.”

I wiped away the tears which had slid down my cheeks due to laughing so hard. It took me another ten minutes of cajoling and hitting (by Pratishtha) to calm down. As we made our way towards the cubicle for Economics, we heard Mrs. Bandi’s voice calling us from behind. She hurried towards us and shoved a silver tiffin box in Pratishtha’s hands. “Here!”, she said, “The pudding that you had brought me that day was delicious Pratishtha. My kids enjoyed it the most. I did not get time to make you something though to fill your tiffin with. So I brought hot samosas for you from ‘Samosewala’ of my neighbourhood. He was making a fresh batch.” Mrs. Bandi stayed in a locality named Geetabhavan. Samose of that particular samosewala are famous throughout Indore. After Pratishtha thanked her,  Mrs Bandi rushed towards the left corridoor to take her class as we started up  the steps.  Pratishtha opEned the tiffin box and A delicious aroma filled our nostrils. “MMMmmmm!” I swooned as we crossed the library.

 “They’ll get cold soon.When do we eat them? “ Sakshi asked with a longing look, as Sonal nodded fiercely. Pratishtha turned to face THE three of us with an amused look.

 “When did I even say that I will share these with you three anyway?”. We pinched her and tickled her till till she screamed. “Okay Okaayyyy…I was just kidding!! You know what,” she said, “ Mrs. David always comes a bit late for her class in the morning. Let’s eat these samosas right now but we have to be quick and let’s sit on THE floor so that no one else can see us.” We all agreed and began to shift our chairs to make space for us to sit on the floor. The doors of all the classes were opaque from THE middle to THE bottom whereas THEY  had transparent glass on the upper-half. So as we sat comfortably on the floor with our legs crossed, we were sure that no one would be able to see us eating. Four of us were so excited about samosas that one would think we were going to eat them for the first time in our lives. But AN unexpected samosa feast in school was as unlikely for us as Mrs. Bandi taking a one week leave. I laughed loudly as Pratishtha, sitting opposite me, who unwound in a circular motion, the thread binding the green chutney packet, with a silly grin on her face. Sakshi covered my mouth with her hands and said “Ye Maalu ki wajah se hee marenge hum chaaron ek din.(we are going to die because of Maalu one day)”. Pratishtha handed us a samosa each  and kept the last one for Mrs David. The samosas were just delicious! The crust was crispy and hot and the potato filling just melted in our mouths. I felt depressed when mine was finished and hoped there wERE more. I looked longingly at Sonal’s last bite, which , noticing me looking, she immediately popped  in her mouth, smirking.

 “I say,”, Sakshi said as we stood up and dusted ourselves clean, “ it’s been almost fifteen minutes now and Mrs. David isnt here yet. She is present for sure as I saw her in the morning. Lets go and find her. She is never this late.” We all agreed and hiding the last samosa  in my bag, stepped out of the cubiclE to find our teacher. We spotted her midway on the stairs and she looked very angry. “Just where were you girls?”, she demanded as soon as we reached her, “I have been looking all around the building for all of u. I came to the cubiclE and didn’t see u there when I peeked inside. The chairs were empty.”  We all broke into explanation at once and Mrs. David probably could not understand any of it as she silenced US with her hand held up and looked at us with a sad expression on her face. “I thought that by being friendly with you all, learning would be more fun”, she said, “I always thought that even though you girls are a little playful, you would never ever think of taking advantage of me. You have started lYing to me as well. How can I not see you if you were in THE cubiclE.”

We started to speak again at once but she wouldn’t listen. “I don’t feel like teaching today girls,” she said , “Enjoy your free period all of you,” she added, walking away from us. We all looked at each other and sat down inside the small room.

 “I feel lousy!” SonAl said in a tiny voice, “What should we do?”

Ten minutes later, we were all standing outside the Staff-room. “Ms. Payal!!” I called out to the teacher sitting nearest to the door. She was a young teacher, in her mid-twenties, with short hair and a smiling face. She took English in the junior classes. She looked up and glanced inquiringly at us. “Ma’am could you call Mrs. David for us for just a minute?” I said. She nodded and called out to Mrs. David . “She is coming.”, Ms Payal said, “She is looking sad though. Did you girls do anything bad to annoy her?” She looked at us sternly. We were just about to answer her when Mrs David herself emerged from the staff-room, looking grave.

 “Mrs. David,”, Pratishtha stepped up and spoke before Mrs. David could say anything, “Please at least hear us out once. After that if you tell us to leave, we will not come here again, but please listen to us once. It’s a misunderstanding.” Encouraged BY Mrs. David’s silence, she went on speaking and started telling her everything about Pratishtha’s tiffin-box, Mrs. Bandi’s samosas and our decision to  sit on the floor to eat them and that’s how she could not see us from outside. “This is what happened Mrs. David. Really!!” Pratishtha said, after telling Mrs. David the whole story. “We just want you to believe that whatever we do, we would never lie to you. And we would never ever take advantage of you. Really ma’am! See we even left you a samosa! ” She pointed at me and I held out the  last samosa which I was untill now holding in my hand behind my back. “SORRY  Mrs. David!” the four of us held our ears and chorused, the samosa still in my hand.  We looked at Mrs. David’s face to see whether she believed us or not.  Mrs. David looked at each of us and then at the samosa dangling near my right ear and burst out laughing. “You girls are so silly!!”, she exclaimed, stretching out her arms and pulling all four of us in a tight hug. “I knew you girls would never hurt me on purpose. Though you are the silly and naughty and full of mischief, I always told my husband that these girls have got their hearts in the right place. Today I was hurt to think that you would take me for granted and bunk my class. I am so relieved now.” She patted each of us on THE cheek fondly and said, “Now there’s no sense going back to the lesson. THE bell is about to ring in five minutes. TomoRrow I want all of you in time in for our economics class, ON YOUR CHAIRS!! And give me my samosa!”. We laughed as we headed towards the main building. How we adored Mrs. David! We were glad we could lift up her mood and clear the little misunderstanding which had arisen. We would never ever hurt any teachers of ours on purpose. We headed towards our next class, giggling and blaming each other for the samosa  fiasco which we knew none of us would ever forget!