Authors: Latika Sharma
Schoolmates
Schoolmates
The most famous couple in school
Latika Sharma
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© 2012 by Latika Sharma. All rights reserved.
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Published by AuthorHouse 11/30/2012
ISBN: 978-1-4772-1825-9
(sc) ISBN: 978-1-4772-1826-6 (e)
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Contents
Dedicated to my students, my real inspiration;
and Geeti, my first reader.
No project is ever successful without a strong and dedicated team. Here, I would like to extend thanks and gratitude towards a few people who have been instrumental in my completion of this book. My people at Author-House, especially Thirdy Aguirre, who covered the last pound for me and Rey August, my check in co-ordnator. And Kathy Lorenzo, for her help.
My parents, who always saw the writer in me, my brother Mahavir, who encouraged me with appreciation every time Idscusseda plot with him, even when I knew he was tired and all he wanted was to rest.
My friends Anjali Ruchi, Deepika and most of all Geetika, who read my manuscript, one fine winter day as we headed towards the International Book Fair on the Metro. She was my first reader and had immense faith in my work.
And finally, this book was her dream as well as mine, my dear friend Dr.Monika, my person, who has awaited its successful completion more than anyone else. Everyone deserves one friend
like you, Monika . . .
I thank you all.
“One rose can be my garden . . .
One friend . . . my world.
I
t was raining
in Delhi. The weather was beautiful and serene, especially after the parched dry spell. Riya loved the rain. It brought back many memories-some bittersweet and in all shades of life. But on such cool October days with festivities in season and the kiss of approaching winters, she inadvertently recollected the sweetest memory of all-her love affair in school. So as was her habit these days, she sat down with her steaming brew of coffee and browsed through her now worn out, yet precious old school yearbooks.
Her hands were automatically searching his picture-the boy she fell in love with. Kabir Sharma, the Basketball captain. He was the pride of the school and the heart throb for many of the girls. He was also her boyfriend. And there’s had been a great love story! The entire school knew about it. Kabir had promised her that they would forever be ‘the most popular couple’ the school ever had. And they were so, in every sense of the word. Happy and so much in love ...
As is the law of the inevitable, life took the ball in its hands and spinned everything around. Things changed, she was married now, yet her love for him never wanned. How could it... he never left her thoughts. And days such as these, reminded her so much of Kabir and his warm feel around her.
Riya was lost in her thoughts when the doorbell rang. She sprang to her feet, expecting the arrival at this hour. It was her 5 year old son. He had been playing outside with his friends, in the rain. Her husband sometimes complained of making their son a sports fanatic, but it reminded her of Kabir even when he wasn’t there.
And so opening the door all she did was smile at her rain drenched son who was a splitting image of his dad. As he rushed inside spinning his basketball, Riya resumed her seat on the sofa near the huge window of her big and palatial bungalow and began her favourite and fulfilling journey, down the memory lane, sipping her coffee, and thinking back . . . to that day when her love story began ... thinking of Kabir.
T
he summer vacations had ended ten days ago. School was alive with shrieks of laughter and stampeding feet running in its long corridors. Rooms were afresh with new distempers, boards and new classes. Everyone was busy narrating tales of their well spent holidays. Teachers were busy collecting holidays homework, allotting new students to different sections and making new monitors and captains. For Riya Sehgal it was just a new day at school with its studies as she never really did anything else during her holidays. Riya was now in tenth and already way ahead of her class. She had always been an out-standing student, a monitor and an excellent orator. Her parents and teachers alike had high expectations from her. She was also a simple yet smart and reasonably well looking girl. So, as was expected she was the class monitor again and was assigned many duties despite school being open only recently.
The day was proceeding by the time table. After recess they had physics practical. Now, this year they had Mr.Bimal Bonerjee as their physics teacher. He was known for being strict, especially with boys, and tolerated no frivolity during classes. So naturally there was pin drop silence in his lab. Everyone was silently doing what they thought to be correct, fitting apparatus and trying tomake sense of the concept when all of a sudden; there was a huge crash from one side of the lab! As all heads turned that side, and the lab assistant came rushing, Kabir Sharma, picked up a broken galvanometer and looked silly. Now, Kabir was all fingers and thumbs, dull in studies but brilliant in sports, especially basketball. He was also drop dead gorgeous which earned him less scolding from a few teachers and never a distasteful look from his friends, especially the girls. They were crazy after him and drooled over each time he even crossed them in the corridor. But Mr. Bonerjee disliked such students and Kabir happened to be from Tagore house as well, the rivals of Gandhi house of which Mr. Bimal was house master. So as Kabir Sharma stood there placing the broken pieces on the shining black granite slab, Mr. Bonerjee shouted, “Mr. Sharma here, thinks he is spinning his ball. Yes! And he thinks physics to be too dull and boring. Yes! Do you know how much that costs?”
Without looking at his teacher and hair fluttering in the ceiling fan’s gush Kabir replied in a dry and sordid tone—”Sorry Sir.”
This arrogant reply irked Mr. Bonerjee more and he said, “That’s what you can be Mr. Kabir. Sorry. Definitely, you are nothing else in life. You are a big sorry for everyone”.
Now Kabir was a young and an aggressive sports star. And such hard-line boys played rough with less tolerance. This attitude is in fact, a great help and a tactic in the sports fields but casts a bad shadow in academics. On Mr.Bonerjee’s remark the tips of Kabir’s ears reddened and looking sternly at his teacher he said, rather rudely, “I din’t do it on purpose. I will pay for it.”
Now this was extreme, and Mr. Bony, as his students called him (he was skinny as well), wasn’t going to let it pass. “Get out!!!!” he said calmly but so seriously that for a while many pupils stopped breathing.
Instead of apologising, as all students do, Kabir picked his pens and without even looking at his teacher, stomped out. Mr. Bonerjee gave a snort and spoke about undisciplined students and how they mock the education system and how they will end up big losers in life, but basically no one gave a second thought to the entire episode, not even Riya. By now everyone was accustomed to see teachers shout on Kabir and make him stand out of the class. He invited all of it, his arrogance and constant confrontation with teachers had earned him nothing more than a poor report card and a compartment in Science and Maths. And most were expecting he would fail, as clearly all that boy was capable of was shooting baskets.
Baskets! That was his passion. He was a different person on the court. His presence was conspicuous, not only by his excellent physique but also by his speed. It was evident how well and adept he was. He was applauded by all his coaches and loved by his team. His planning and executions were impeccable. The defences he prepared were impenetrable. His mind was like a live computer when it came to this game. He would practice for hours without any break. So naturally he was generally too tired for studies or tuitions. His parent’s futile efforts to enable him to score at least passing marks were failing miserably. His younger sister, who was studying in the same school, was a better student than him, a regular topper and scholar badge holder. It is quite ironical, but true for many families with children. His performance was often compared to her, to his great dislike. But he adored his sister and was secretly proud of her for being better at studies than him.
So, when Bony sir threw him out, he stood looking outside the windows beyond the corridor into the basketball court and automatically his mind got occupied with a series of moves. In his mind he was passing the ball to Tejas who dribbled it well and threw it over Ajay, towards Dev. Dev ran like storm and threw it to Husky and . . . BASKET! His hands were moving dribbling an imaginary ball. This he realized later when Mr. Bonerjee came out of the lab on ending the period for practical’s and tapped his shoulder.