High school diaries part 4 - To save a moustache

There was much at stake, the coach thought. The school's reputation, his reputation were in the line of fire. And so was his moustache.

It was the final game of the inter school cricket tournament. He had spend hours and hours in training the kids for the past six months despite opposition from parents and some teachers. They argued that he was spending student's pecious time for study for a colonial game which is a  collosal waste of time. In the end he was able to convince the principal. On the terms that he will win the tournament. That would mean headlines on leading newspapers. Photos of principal and the coach with the winnning team posted on the front page. A win win!! 

Through out the tournament the kids had shown the mettle. They won in almost all the games and entered the final. This was the day of final. Fate has it that this day will decide many things. And the coach was prepared for that. And then this morning fate lost its gps signal, took a wrong turn  and made a prank on him.

The opponents, the Trinity school team, was from another part of the town and the coach knew them pretty well. He knew their coach even more. They served in the army together. But it was like an arranged marriage. Though they were trained to shoot Pakistanis, each would whole heartedly side with the enemy to shoot the other. When the army decide to promote Trinity's coach as the captain of the battalion, our coach resigned. Later he would be courtmartialled and his pention stopped. His neighbours laughed at him saying all he got from the army was his moustache.

True. That was all he got at the end of years of service. The big moustache. The majestic moustache. It started thick from under the bridge of his nose like the muzzle of machine gun, curved down like the blade of an army sword, and shot up at the ends like bayonnets. Over the years it so happened that, it was the only piece of hair that grew on his entire head. Yes he was shining bald. But the moustache stayed strong as ever. He manicured and dyed it. Combed and massaged it. Before he took the job as the coach he got a perfect wig. For the most part people believed it to be his real hair. Some students knew it. But his newly joined assistant, a middle aged lady who he handpicked from the many applicants, didnt seem to know that. That was all that mattered. She seemed to listen more and more to what he had to say, laugh more and more at his jokes. The slope of the graph was about to go to a new level.

And then the fate struck him this morning. For the final, the coach of trinity replaced some of his students with good players recruited from local teams. The laws did not allow it.   But his opponent had slipped enough envelopes in the pockets of organizers that they were convinced the guys who looked like afghan militia were indeed the students of Trinity. The more the coach complained the more his opponente laughed. When he could take no more the coach walked out. But his army brain made a bet before he did. 

"Da.....," The coach roared at Trinity's,  "dont think you won already. If I am a man your outside recuirts will have to sweat their blood before you touch the trophy"

"Is that so mounsieur?" his ex collegue had a special way of irritating the coach. " What I do with the trophy is no runaway's business. I might cut it to pieces and feed my dog. I might spit and pee on it." He paused trying to breath. " why dont you do one thing? why dont you win the game and then talk about the trophy?" He looked squarely into the eyes of the coach "Show me, for once for heaven's sake, that you are a man" 

Blood surged in to the eyes of the coach. His head seemed to explode.

"youuu...how dare" He started at the other and then he stopeed " So be it you cheat. If I win, you return your seva medal which you got bribing the major. Are you man enough to do that. ARE YOU?" 

"Agreed mr.courtmarshalled. But what if YOU LOSE? Will you shave half of your fake moustache off?"

"With pleasure you wretched lowminded Brutus" and the coach walked out.

In the next few hours as he inspired his team, watched them winning the toss and electing to bat and cheered them as they hit boundaries and sixers, he did not seem to realize the collateral damage should he fail in the challenge he had taken. When Trinity's team entered to bat and their outside hires hit sixer after sixer, the coach started sinking. It was the drink break now and already the Trinity was just 54 runs behind the target with five wickets to go. 

Defeat stared in to the eyes of the coach. What if he loose. The Principal would never, ever, take his words. He would be literally manhandeled in the parent-teachers meeting should one kid fail in the exam. He will be looked at, like the gas from the pigs of newzealand- the filthy cause of all environment problems. And then, oh god, how could he look at his assistant with half the moustache. He wished he never hired her.  

 

He looked at his team. They were lying on the ground, drenched in sweat, like fallen leaves on rain. No dose of his inspiration speeches would work. Other team's batsman, a Robert, an outside hire, has been hitting the balls all aroung the ground. Off side, on side, leg..you name it. His guys have been chasing the ever escaping ball like husbands do to make thier wife happy. It was not working. 

 

"if we don’t break this partnership and get that guy Robert's wicket, it is pretty much a lost game. wish some miracle happens and some one gets his wicket" It was Raju the captain. For him matters had entered the zone of meta physics from that of physics.

 

"Lets get Suhas in" it was the coach.

"Suhas?” Raju looked at him unbelievably. "He is badly injured in his eye. He can’t even see properly"

 

" I know. And I am sure that guy with silver sunglass did it deliberately. I saw him aiming right at suhas instead of aiming the wickets when he threw the  ball. If he had missed, Suhas would have added another 30-40 runs to our score" the coach wished there was a restart button that would solve all problems like it did in his computer.

 

"But coach, Suhas cant field properly with his sore eye. We will be effectively one fielder down"

 

" I know that too. but we need some wickets. right now. Suhas is a fighter. god knows what I would have done with out that boy. lets give the next over to him"

 

Robert and his mate stopped and frowned when they saw Suhas. Left eye swollen like a lime, he was preparing to do the next over.

 

"Holy cow. It is the red chilly" yelled Robert

Red chilly..thats how Suhas was known in cricket circles for his fast, very fast bowling.

 

"Man... I thought that guy hit the bench after we gave him the eye treatment. We are doomed" said the other. They went to the umpire immediately.

"Sir this cant be allowed. He was out on the bench and he cant walk in between"

 

Raju was expecting this. "well he was in the team. he was kept out just to recover from the injury. The law permits it".

The umpire nodded in approval.

 

"umpire..."said the other guy,  "even so this is middle over. he cant give it to a pace bowler"

 

"that's right. Suhas's balls are too hot to handle" seconded Robert.

The umpire looked at robert with an eye brow raised like a rainbow.

" I mean the cricket ball...his bowling" robert set the record straight.

 

in the pavilion the coach of Trinity saw what was happening and a shiver ran through his spine. "good god ..he is the fastest frigging bowler in palakkad. I thought we had him by his eye".

 

The umpire dismissed all the complaints and signaled Red chilly to bowl.

 

The batsman looked to the skies before he took position. The first ball whistled past him before he even saw it. The whistle stayed in the air for a full second.

 

 The second ball was better because he could see some of it. It came like a missile, pitched on the ground and shot up. It seemed to swing away from him and he realized he was too slow to connect it with his bat. The next moment he realized he was too glad that he was slow, because the ball instead of swinging away, came straight at him. It hit the bat he hung hesitantly.

Thud!!.

He felt the wood tremble. A sharp pain shot from his fingers and ran up his shoulders.

god the chilly is fast!

 

He prepared for the next one. fear was written all over his face.

When the next ball pitched he swung the bat as hard as he could. He heard the ball hitting wood. Thud! But he knew it was not his bat. Behind him the middle wicket was airborne. He walked away with out even looking back.

 

 

The next to come was the silver sunglass. He walked up to robert.

 

" Hey watch out. Just pass this over some how. Or rotate the strike to me." Robert shared the game plan. "He has three more balls" 

 

"wow no wonder he is fast" said silver glass as he looked quizzically at robert.

"I mean the cricket ball...three more deliveries left" robert set the record straight.

 Oh..said silver glass.

 

Silver glass left a sigh and walked to take his position. His mind said Red Chilly might aim right at his face just as he did to him. He was right.

The ball never pitched and came right toward his eyes. He had the bat at eye level and managed to block it. The ball spun out the bat to the off side.

 

"Run....run" robert had already left the crease.

 

Silver glass came to reality in the next moment and started off. Suhas saw the ball going away from the pitch. He took two long steps and dived at the ball. The ball stopped at his hand in mid air. He saw Robert in the other crease and silver glass half way in the pitch. Before he touched the ground he threw the ball to the stumps. Silver glass was almost near the crease but suhas was too fast. It plucked the wicket right out of the ground and ..run out!!!!

 

Silver glass was duck out. The first duck out in the final game.

Not a sweet revenge..but revenge nevertheless.

 

It was their captain who came next. He had the look of an investment banker who turned from millionaire to bankrupt overnight.He offered to bat. So that Robert could get his century in the next over.

"No thanks" Said Robert. He decided to face it.

 

Robert raised his bat at Suhas's direction who looked up now. Robert then pointed his bat to the pavillion. Meaning I will you hit you a sixer.

 

The crowd saw it. They seemed to enjoy. Finally it was face off between the fastest bowler and the fiercest batsman. Feast to the eyes. It was Trinity's  home ground and the croud roared

....Trinity....Trinity...Trinity...

 

Suhas looked around. Loud the Trinity chant was but he had supporters too, although less in number. They went "su..haas...su..hass....su..haas".

His eyes drifted through his supporters. Then it stopped at one spot. He couldn’t believe what he saw. There. Right in the middle, dressed in a yellow salwar  was his dream girl.

 

He gripped the ball carefully and sprinted to do the next delivery. The crowd roared. Before the ball left Suhas, Robert stepped ahead, his bat pulled back to make the killer sixer. The ball shot out of Red Chilly like a lightening and the bat came up to meet it in a majestic swing.

THUDD!!

 

the crowd fell silent. No one knew what happened.

Then shouted some one...look there. He pointed to the sky. The ball was going up towards the boundary line behind the wicket keeper. But it was still climbing heights. If it stops climbing it could be a huge sixer. If it climbs further it could be a catch, although a difficult one.

 

The crowd roared...Trinity...Trinity..Trinity

 

Suhas looked at the wicket keeper. The bugger was standing there transfixed. The next moment Suhas leaped like a horse towards the ball. He had to run the length of the pitch, past the batsman and wicket keeper. The boundary seemed far far away. But his legs were fast.

 

He might have crossed half the pitch when he saw some thing coming at him. Robert. Why was he coming at him? Before he could realize ...bang...Robert came and collided from the left side.

 

Suhas was thrown on the air on to the ground. He landed head first crushing his shoulders.

Wooooh....the crowd murmered in apparent pain as they got on their feet.

 

Get up suhas… get up...the girl in the yellow dress whispered.

 

From the ground Suhas looked up, sweat and soil all over his swollen eye. The ball had stopped climbing. It will start coming down any moment.

 

The next instant he was on his feet again. The crowd roared. Will he make it, some one asked. Come on suhas...said another.

 

Suhas could hear his own foot steps as he cut through the air. Mysteriously he also heard the piano from the movie he had seen some days back. what movie was it...charriots of hair...he couldn’t remember.

 

Then he heard himself talking to his sweet heart at the pavilion

"Sheeja.....so where does the power come from? To see the game to its end?..from with in.."

The crowd were all up on their feet in anticipation.

He saw the ball coming down. It seemed he could get it if it did not cross the boundary. Then the ball crossed the evening sun. His eyes were blinded by the brightness.

 

"come on suhas" ...sheeja yelled lost in the roar of the crowd.

 

"Sheeja....i believe God made me for a purpose. To be a bowler. But He also made me a fielder.."

 

The profound sound of piano filled his ears. He was just yards away from the boundary, the last lap, his eyes still not clear.

 

He thrust his chest forward, head swung back. His hair glowed in the evening sun. They bounced in the air with his each step. His eyes, turned up, were half closed in ecstasy.

 

In the pavilion the coach crushed the can of Pepsi in his hand. On the ground Robert looked at Suhas with awe.

 

"Dup" Suhas felt the ball land in his stretched right hand. He was inches away from the boundary.

 

He rolled and threw the ball up in the air..."Howzaaat..."

 

People jumped out of the pavilion. The team rushed towards him.

 

And Robert, the guy who boasted about hitting sixer limped towards the dressing room, unable to believe what ever happened in front of his eyes.

 

It was revenge time. Suhas thought. He had to return the favor. I will pluck the grass from the field and throw at him. Meaning you are as good as grass to me.

Suhas ran towards Robert who stopped to see what Suhas was doing.

 

Suhas bent down and grasped the grass with both hands. Strangely they seemed artificial. What ever...he thought. He pulled. It didnt come.

 

"Dont do it" he heard the umpire's voice on his back.

Dont do it ..my ass. Suhas thought. He was the fastest bowler in palakkad and sure as hell he is going to do it.

He pulled the grass again. This time with all the force. And it came.

 

The next instant the umpire slapped him hard across the face. So hard it blacked out for him. Some thing hummed in his head for a second. And then he could see again.

 

Right in front of him was the coach staring at him like a mad man. His face red with shame and anger. Around them there were people laughing hysterically. There was no Robert. No pavilion or roaring crowd. No Sheeja. Suhas realized that they were in a bus. The coach covered his head bald and shining, with one hand and looked around in utter embarrassment. All around the passengers were on a laughing riot. Was that a dream? 

  

Suhas looked down and saw that he held the wig of the coach in his hand. He looked up and felt like he was watching an old kungfu movie. The words moved faster than the lips of the coach.

"give me my wig you brat....." the coach thrust forward, his fists in sleeping monkey style and slapped Suhas across the face. 

"Sorry coach...I thought..." suhas now remembered boarding the bus and standing next to the coach. The coach was busy talking to the new assistant who sat next to him but was kind enough to hold the bag of Suhas who found it difficult to stand with the bag full of books. 

 

" You thought..what.?.." The coach held suhas by his left ear and twisted it royally. He couldnt bear the laughs around him. Especially that of his assistant whose womenish laugh landed on his ears more than other's.

 

Suhas smiled like a tubelight, like a million times he will do on slippery slopes,  true to his name. 

Appendix: The word suhas in sanskrit means the one who smiles like a tube light .

High school diary 2 - meet the warden

That night Jackal kept looking at the window for hours before he finally fell asleep. He had started cursing himself for being a friend of Rahul. The kid who passed to his ears the worst secret and left a few days after. No one talked about the secret in open. But whispers were passed from ear to ear.

 

Rahul was known to every one in the school, but for all the wrong reasons. When he attended the classes he sat in the last bench. From there he made peanut sized balls of paper and "shelled" the guys who sat in the front rows. Then there were pilotless drones, also made of paper, which flew and hit many heads ahead. The brief moments when the teacher turned his eyes away to write some thing on black board were all that Rahul needed to launch his weapons. At times though, his drones lost the navigation and wandered in to the teacher’s air space. The all-knowing teachers promptly walked Rahul out of the class room the next instant.

He would stand there, facing down, his tender face all red and eyes welled. He looked like a bubble ready to burst at the next wind. In the initial days the teachers felt a wave of sympathy and let him back in. He would walk back, still face down, to his seat. It wouldn’t take five minutes for the drones to hit the skies again. Later he was thrown out of the class and never let in. 

Then he started bunking the classes. When out of the classes he stayed in the hostel and looted chocolates from other's suitcases. The victims could not complain because they were not supposed to keep snacks with them, in the first place.

And one fine day the same Rahul left the hostel for good!!. Just like that. 

It would have been just another night.  Rahul woke up in his sleep some time after midnight. This was not unusual and he started towards the rear of the hostel where the hallway ended and the walkway to the restrooms started. Instead of turning right to where the restrooms stood, he turned left. On the left, beyond a three feet wall stretched a mud road. Just across the road, stretching miles in to the dark horizons on both sides, was a thick jungle. 

That area was strictly off-limits to students, especially for the purpose of pee.  But Rahul being Rahul, jumped up the wall and walked to his left a few yards to his favorite pee spot. A feet or so ahead of him was a tree which rose out of earth and branched in two directions like the letter "Y". From the wall he aimed the water jet across the cone of the Y tree to the other side. He had style in every thing he did. His eyes drifted toward the vast sky and stars in that dream like state. And then he heard the unmistakable ruffle from the forest.

He looked at the fox like thing which emerged from the bushes. He knew there were many of them but never seen one. This one looked more like a dog. Wolf ? He looked closer and saw that the creature had one of its rear legs missing. It was that stray dog which he has seen many times around the hostel. With only three legs it would limp all around the place. He had seen the warden feeding biscuits to it.  The dog limped in his direction. If it is fast enough he could arrange a shower for it, he chuckled at the thought. 

A crow flew over head.

The dog was still many feets away, but he could see in the moon light that its eyes had a ferocity to them. He wanted to pick some stones and scare the stupid dog away, if only he could finish what ever he was doing. Then he saw the bushes move once again. And he stopped a breath half way. A figure fully clad in black, walked out of the bushes.

The black robe extended from head to toe. The face was hidden. One of the hands held a long stick. There was some thing moving in the other hand. Rahul noted with horror that it was the headless body of a chicken struggling its last struggle. Drops of blood flew in the wind. And then he saw the face. It had ashes on its forehead and red all over the chest like a murderous beast in the middle of a feast. It was hard to recognize in the night. Its eyes now fell on Rahul 

Rahul cried out loud. Only a muffled sound came out. The light was low but that was enough for him to recognize the face. It was the warden.

The eyes were red hot and were on him. Rahul didn’t bother to finish the job or do the zipper. He jumped down from the wall and ran towards the room. A crow circled above his head. The earth seemed to move and he didn’t get enough grip to move ahead. It was harder to breath. But he tried. He was a fighter. He struggled towards the hallway and finally got there. He took a few more steps and passed out, feet’s away from his dormitory door.

When he woke up he was on his bed. But he had high fever. He could barely walk. His teacher advised to not attend the classes. But Rahul did not want to stay in the hostel alone. The red eyes kept coming to the mind. He breathed a lot easier when the day got over and his friends came back from school. From them he knew that the secretary of the school's management committee has arrived. The secretary was an all powerful man who visited the school once in a few days.  

He would tell the secretary what he saw last night, Rahul thought. Secretary was the only person who had more power than the warden. The other teachers were clowns. The secretary stayed in a building on the other side of a football ground. When every one around was asleep that night, he slowly sneaked out of the room. He had to cross the part of the building where the warden stayed. He hid behind a wall and made sure the lights in the warden's section was out. 

He had to some how cross the warden's section. Once he reaches the football ground he could run with all that is left in him. 

He walked slowly. He was now in front of warden's door. He wanted to look through the window but was too scared to. He was about to take his next soft step when he heard flap of wings. A crow took to the air from a tree near by and landed a few feet ahead of him. Its eyes were on him. Phew..just a crow he thought. Then some leaves ruffled. From some where in the darkness a dog appeared. The three legged one. The eyes were more ferocious than they were the last night. 

It stopped just a feet in front of him and growled. A devilish growl. Rahul froze.

"So you want to tell some secrets to the secretary don’t you?"

The words came from his left made his legs melt. It was the warden. A warmth engulfed Rahul's head. He thought he would pass out again.

" Why don’t you tell me the little secret too" the warden laughed. 

Rahul had no courage to speak. His lips were trembling and the legs frozen. The warden's chuckle came closer and closer. He had to move. NOW!

He didn’t know how, but his legs finally moved. With the warden just a few inches away Rahul shot out towards his room. He heard a growl behind. But he had found his speed. In the next instant he was on his bed. He took the photo of a god from his friend's table and kept clutched it to his heart.

The next day Rahul's fever got worse. It worsened the day after. His parents came that evening and took him with them. He would never come back. But he had already told all that happened to his close friend - Jackal. About the blood, the crow, the dog. That the warden some how read his mind. 

In the days that followed Jackal tried to keep himself as far away from the warden as possible. But he found that the warden eyes seemed to follow him. It seemed as if the warden was looking for some thing , some reason, to catch Jackal in the wrong foot. May be to punish him in one of the warden's unknown ways. After a few days jackal found it too hard to go on with this. On evening at one corner of the football field, after making sure no crows or the three legged dog was around, he whispered his mind's contents to his close friend. Whispers passed ears.

Now the letter that Jackal wrote waited in the post box for the warden to be picked up.

Lay off - a story

He looked at the grey Ford Taurus on the right as he pulled in to his favorite parking lot.
He wished he could meet her today. He would ask her out for a coffee, or even a dinner.

“A man got to have some guts. When you had a chance you didn’t ask her. Now fuck you!! “

he cursed himself aloud.

He has been seeing the grey Ford, and the black chevy before that, for the last ten years.
She always came early to work. Once in a while when she gets late, he left her favorite parking lot for her. At times they would see each other. He still remembers how he missed to breath when he first saw her. She was single. Luckily he too was. A few more meetings and conversations and he thought he was ready to ask her out.

Then one spring day he saw her kissing a man in a pickup truck in the same parking lot. She winked at him when he looked casually at the new truck. He smiled and walked away. Then he met his girlfriend and seemed happy. The truck came many times. He wished it never came again. Some day that happened. She came earlier than usual and left later than usual for a lot of days after that. Then they met again. When she asked, he wanted to lie to her that he was single. He cursed himself then. Now he is single again. She seemed to be single too. He would ask her if he met her today.

May be a coffee at starbucks. May be, just may be, a dinner at carrabbas.

“You need to fall in love to live through the falling economy” he had told himself last day as he pulled out of interstate.
He looked through the tinted glass as he got out of his car. She was there!

Face on the wheel, both hands on wither sides, she was crying.He remembered how she came in to his arms and wept on his shoulders when he knocked her glasses on the day of 9/11. She seemed to fit just right. Made for his arms. That was the only time he saw her crying in her car. Only time he hugged her. He lifted his hand to knock the glass.

Then he saw the cardboard box on the passenger seat. He saw in it, books, momentos, coffee
cup, staple, ear phones and her name plate.

God... Oh God my job...
He drew his hand away and turned towards the office doors -the automatic glass doors which he passed every day for the last fifteen years. He saw police cars in front of it. He ran towards the doors, past many who walked out with cardboard boxes.

The doors seemed far far away.

High school diary 1 - letter box

How do you write about your school friends? Especially when the thing you want to write about is a well kept secret. More so when it involves an adventurous person who was ready to risk his life for a girl and he almost ended up doing so. On the other hand, the girl was more silent than a windless night.

It is such a restless thing in soul that you have to let it escape from your mind.

I wouldn’t have seen it unless I decided to toil that summer night to finish all my pending home works. It was 1 past midnight. The whole hostel was silent but for occasional snores of a few. The hallway connecting the dormitories was long and dark intermitted by islands of dim light from zero watt bulbs. But the darkness did not bother me as I walked through the corridor because I was almost asleep with only bit of my eyes open so that I don’t step on a wandering snake or go face down tripping on steps. So I missed to see the slick movement that happened at the other end of the corridor.

My ears did pick some thing and when I looked up the door of the partition which separates the student dormitories from the staff quarters was moving back and forth. Certainly it cannot be wind because that was quite a calm night. In a quick instant my senses were wide awake. My brain, running on all its eight cylinders, considered and rejected the possibilities of ghosts, god, son and holy spirit in that order in a quick second. The next moment I was hiding myself behind a wall, ready to leap and run at the first sight of the burglar. Newspapers were full of stories on ruthless burglers beating up people.

The next I heard was foot steps of the burglar running towards me. I leapt across from my cover to open ground. But soon I realized that I didn’t have to do it. The alleged burglar was none other than my class mate and room mate. From the corner of my eyes I saw him running towards our dorm door and dive in. It was dark and he was quick. But neither were enough to stop me from recognizing him. Some thing did smell fishy. No one goes to that part of hostel other than to post the letters or to meet the warden. Neither seemed an activity that had to be done in the middle of the night

That night I saved his face by not asking any questions when I went to bed. I cleared my throat a couple of times though. I plan to save his face now by not revealing his identity. I will call him Jackal – in memory of the Latin American smuggler.

Let me tell you a bit about myself now. I was to the warden what Carl Rove Was to president Bush. Except that in my case the warden could beat the blues out of me. Nevertheless, I had insider information. The next few days were eventful.

Jackal had his plans, to express his love to his sweet heart, more or less perfect. That until I came in as a meteorite and thrashed it to pieces on that night. He went to post his letter overflowing with love, when he was sure every one is asleep, especially the warden. Two post boxes were kept in front of warden’s room. One labeled IN and the other OUT. Any outgoing letters goes to the latter and warden cleared the ones in IN every day and passes the letters to the inmates after a screening. On that fateful night as soon as jackal entered that room, he heard the foot steps. In a hurry he reached the first box and dropped the letter in, and was air borne. Little did he know that the letter which will later draw his fate was in the wrong box. Or that the approaching footsteps were not of the warden.

The hell was to break loose next day.

High school diary... - An Unexpected Meeting

The line at the Air India counter wound itself out in to the walk way. Shyam found his place at the end of the line. This was his first trip back home to Kerala in a few years and he rightfully dreaded the thirty hour confinement in a crammed seat. He looked at the attendants at economy class counter. They took their time, with just one finger on the key board .Only a passing glance was given to the passenger. The day was too slow to reveal the tense moments awaiting Shyam.

Shyam’s eyes drifted towards the First class counter. There were two young attendants catering
to no more than five passengers. He noticed the broad smile of the attendant at the first counter.
She nodded in approval at the words of a middle aged passenger in black suit. The man was
blocking Shyam’s view of the attendant at the second counter. But he didn’t find it hard to guess
that she also had a beautiful smile and nodded to every word of the privileged passenger.

His line moved a little and this time Shyam could see the attendant at the other first class
counter. She was looking down at her computer screen and her face was not completely visible.
But something in his mind told Shyam that he had seen that face before. He waited for her to
look up. Instead, she turned the other direction now and went on fixing the tags on the bags.
Even more curious, he tried to tilt his head to get a better look. That face was familiar…. or was
it really?

The lady was now showing the passenger something on a paper which again blocked Shyam’s
view. The paper moved with the actions as she spoke, giving small glimpses to shyam, but not
enough see her face fully. Finally she handed the paper to the passenger and Shyam could take a
clear look. It could have been one of the most exploding moments of his life.
How could he ever forget that face? Indu!! That was her name. They were in school together.

Seventeen years have passed and here they were. Shyam held one of his hands up so that he can
wave and get her attention when she looks in his direction. Moments passed one by one.

“Move on please Sir” He was brought back to the senses by the man behind him.
“Sorry”, shyam said sheepishly and moved ahead.

Indu joined his class when he was at 9th
. In the class where no one could speak a sentence of
English without breaking fifteen times, she spoke for more than half an hour with no breaks or
“Uh..s”. In the class where Shyam had topped in every subject for the last four years, she beat
him in all the subjects. For the first time in life Shyam tasted defeat at the sophistication of a
Dubai trained class mate. Indu seemed to be silent most of the time. She spoke more with the
teachers than with students. Even the other girls in the class seemed to keep a fearful distance
with her. The boys kept themselves even farther. So did Shyam. He struggled the entire year to
reclaim his lost position, to no avail. He had seen her looking keenly at his direction when he
boldly stopped teachers to ask questions. But he hated to look back. He hated her.

He told the big man behind him that he will be back in a minute and started towards Indu’s
counter. Barely did he take a step when an airport security stopped him.
“Sir you must carry your bags with you all the time.”

Shyam went back to the bag he left at the line. He thought of pulling everything towards Indu’s
counter but decided against it. He watched her every move hoping that she would turn once and
he would catch her attention.

He remembered how things changed when they started the tenth class. There were more
formulas and calculations. Shyam found himself back on the top and Indu behind him in all
subjects but English. As the year progressed and exams passed, the gap between them widened
in his favor except in English where he seemed to keep the same position behind her. In one
exam in the middle of the year she almost failed in physics and Shyam felt some hidden pleasure.
Basking in glory he was walking out of the class room one day when Indu called him from
behind. This was something Shyam expected the least. First of all she never seemed to talk to
anyone let alone the boys. In addition to that he never failed to turn his head away every time
they crossed the path. Shyam was so overwhelmed in this confusion that he was only half
listening when she told him how hard she found to learn physics. She wanted his advice on prep
materials. Even before he could answer he found that within him something strange was
happening. Indu was quite humble, contrary to what he thought about her. He felt the wall of
animosity cracking and water pouring out. Soon the water lashed out with such a force that the
wall was shattered in to thousand pieces and the water leapt out in a great wave.

“Can I help the next? “ the lady at the counter announced looking at him. After a moment’s
hesitation Shyam went ahead and passed the ticket and documents now feeling a little better that after this he can go and talk to Indu.

The conversation that day was his first with Indu. He found that she listened to every word he
spoke, watched every move of his face and placed her eyes on his all the time. He shared
everything he knew. It was not Bollywood drama after that but there was something between
them for sure. Something more subtle, and more sublime. Smiles every day. “Hi” s and “Bye” s.
“All the best” s before exams and “How was it” s after that. With only 4 months left for school
Shyam found that he waited for each morning to wish her. At times they stopped the teacher at
the same time to ask the same question. She would gracefully let him ask with a smile. Other
times both raised their hands to answer teacher’s question and he would let her have the chance.
Things like that. Silence seemed to speak more than the words.

Shyam thought of the last days at school. As the school neared closure, they decided to stage a
drama. Shyam played the main role of Krishna. Indu chose a more silent role – a dasi of
Draupadi. Shyam noted that she watched him closely during the rehearsals. He would ask her
feedback time and again, and she would always look impressed, her eyes gleaming and say that
he was great. Then one day she called him by his nick name – Bear. His hostel mates called him
“Black bear” because he had a lot of body fur . He got used to it when his buddies called him
that but a slight irritation was always there nevertheless. She called him “Little bear” . He was
ashamed, but for some reason felt quite warm at heart. She took many pictures of the rehearsals
and the drama. Study leave of a month followed that. He learned from his friend who in turn
learned from his cousin, the girl sitting next to Indu, that Indu took all those pictures mainly to
get him in each snap. Shyam couldn’t believe it completely but liked it all the same. He waited
for each exam to come by so that he could see her. He did notice that her smiles were broader
and lasted longer. But he didn’t have the guts to take this relation to the next step. One because
he couldn’t completely trust his friend and spoil the dream like relation he had with Indu.

After checking in his bags Shyam collected his boarding pass and walked towards the first class
counter. This time an Air India assistant stopped him.
“Let me see your ticket sir.” “ Hmmm.. This is only for first class.”
“I know. I just want to see her” Shyam pointed at Indu.
“Sorry Sir you have to settle everything at the economy counter.” The assistant was a big man
who blocked Shyam’s view completely.
“No this is personal” Shyam stepped aside to look at Indu’s counter. To his relief he found that
she was looking at them. But then she didn’t seem to recognize. She looked at shyam, then at the
security and smiled at him and looked at shyam once again, turned her head and went on with
her work.
Shyam was speechless and embarrassed at the same time.” I am sorry “ he told the assistant now looking at shyam with a question mark face.
How come she didn’t recognize him? Was it really Indu? Of course she didn’t look exactly like
the Indu he had seen 17 years ago. But that face, the eyes, he was more or less sure.

When the students parted after the tenth class exams, Shyam got Indu’s address in the centre
page of his autograph book. In the loneliness of the holidays that followed he found that he was
thinking more about her than about the upcoming results. Finally he gathered strength and wrote a letter about how he would like to study with her again. His feelings not expressed completely but signs were there all over his words. Her reply came after a few anxious days. She wrote that she too would love to study with him for 12th. And that she kept thinking about his advice and the days of rehearsals. Signs of love all over her words but nothing expressed in open. Shyam wrote again, this time he recollected more events of the last four months. More hints and signs of love. Days passed by and no reply. Results were published and he went to the school hoping to see her. Everyone was there but not her. No one knew about her. He joined the same school for higher secondary. She didn’t join there. Later he would know that her dad insisted that she join a school in Dubai. What followed were some agonizing days of coping for Shyam.

It was time for boarding the aircraft and he kept looking around. No signs. Settled on his seat he
scanned the airhostesses in his cabin. If at all he had just one chance to tell her it was him.
He was still in thoughts when he heard the captain’s voice on the speakers. What caught his
attention were the words – “ in a few, refreshments will be served by Indu Malhotra and team”.
Indu Malhotra? That sounded like a north Indian name. Shyam had seen Indu’s name written on her note books as Indu K. He didn’t know what that K stood for. Half hope and half despair.
Something in his mind still told him that it was Indu. He shifted restlessly in his seat. May be she
got married to some Malhotra. Probably some officer in Air India. Then the cabin was filled with
a voice he could never forget. The speakers had significant static noise. But not enough to stop
Shyam from recognizing the mellowed sweetness in Indu’s voice. It was her. And she is in the
same air plane. That seemed to over flow his mind with joy. He will find her somehow.

When the seat belt signs were turned off he got up and started moving towards the front of the
cabin. He might have passed one block when the air hostess appeared with the food tray and
blocked his way. She gave him an annoyed look – let me do my job. Shyam was not in a state to
stop. He stepped on the hand rests on his side and jumped past the food cart. He ignored the
stunned look of the air hostess and the loud gasps of the passengers.

As he reached the front of the cabin he saw Indu walking up a stair way with a tray in her hand.
He wanted to call her name aloud but decided not to. He moved as fast as he could through the
alley. In the middle of the stairs Indu seemed to pause and her eyes met his. When it stayed a
minute longer, Shyam thought she recognized him finally. But she moved on. He wanted to leap
in the air and stop her. He was now at the bottom of the stairs and Indu was almost at the top. He was about to take the first step of the stair when an air hostess appeared from his side and
stopped him. “Sir, your seat number?” .

“No.” He pointed towards Indu. ” I mean I know her.”
“sorry sir that is first class cabin and you may not enter”.
“I know. But she is my friend” He looked up at Indu hoping that she would intervene. She
seemed to stop at the top of the stairs, looked at them for a moment and disappeared.

Now the airhostess gave him a “now what” look. Unable to comprehend the situation and not
knowing what to do next he lowered his head and stood there. Why didn’t she stop? Why didn’t
she come down? May be it is some other Indu after all?. He walked back with eyes still down.
Back in his seat he tried to kill the thought that maybe it was indeed Indu but she did not want to talk to him. But why would she do that? She might have thought that I would try to take
advantage of the old friendship. He felt that he could see the colors of days long gone far clearer
than those of the days nearby.

When they were about to land at London Heathrow he gathered up his mind and wrote on a
napkin.” Indu, I believe we studied together in Palakkad. I am Shyam. If indeed you are the same Indu, glad that I could see you but sad that I couldn’t talk. By the way, you look more or less the same. Signed Shyam” .

As he walked out of the cabin he passed the napkin to the airhostess who was standing near his
seat and requested her to pass it to Indu. She looked at him quizzically but agreed to pass it. He
felt worn out as he walked around the shops at Heathrow.
It was more than a couple of hours before they could board again to the same aircraft but with
new cabin crew. As he walked towards his seat, he saw that his adjacent seat was already taken
by an old man. On Shyam’s seat was the old man’s blanket and bag. The old man smiled and
took his blanket on seeing him. Under the blanket was a bottle of cold water, mist on every inch
of it. The old man took that as well. It was then that Shyam spotted a white napkin. It was his own hand writing. He picked it up thinking that the airhostess didn’t even pass it. The ink
was spread on the paper by the mist on the water bottle. He sat down and just kept looking at the ink spreading through the paper like a mystical design. Not sure what made him turn the napkin around. But when he did, he saw on the other side a set of new words.
On top of the napkin were the words “To my little bear.”

The words below had already started melting. But he could make them out –
" sorry da. That I couldn’t recognize you. You have changed a lot. And yes I am the same Indu. There is a lot to tell. Call me when you get time.
The words almost filled the napkin. At the edge of the napkin was written something like a
phone number. He could make the first 3 numbers – 314. The fourth one was mostly dissolved
but he could read – 6. With a pained heart he saw the rest of the numbers turned to
unrecognizable shadows on the pale napkin.