Chapter 14

13.  The Elephant's Tsk

When Kirti had stepped into IX B and was welcomed by Tejas, there was another person who had been grumpily dragging his feet behind her. Nishit Aggarwal!

There had been two students transferred to this class and as fate would have it, her squad leader, was one of the two. His friends all left behind in the previous class, it was evident he didn’t want to be here. His ‘let down’ expressions when he had discovered the other person was her,  was off putting. Back to you, too, squad leader, she had wanted to say.

Having settled in the last bench behind Tejas and Sana, she had watched him come, stand at the door, the backpack hanging from his shoulder and scan the class. There were a few Hi- heys exchanged.

‘Wow. Nishit, you’re in this class too,’ The girl who sat beside Tejas,waved and called out. ‘Here is an empty seat,’ she thumped the desk next to Kirti’s. 

‘Yes, Nishit, you can sit here.’ Tejas echoed.

He walked down the aisle lazily and stood by Tejas and Sana’s desk.

‘Sit where?’ He asked.

Tejas’ thumbs pointed towards the empty seat next to Kirti’s

‘With her?’ 

Kirti stared at her desk, her hands joined together in her lap.

Tejas nodded. 

‘You go back. She’s your friend,’ Nishit said, poking Tejas’ arm.

‘But I am sitting with Sana’

If they didn’t want to sit with her, why even invite? Her eyes swept through the entire class and spotted one familiar face. Suveen Rana, she knew the girl through Parvati Reddy.

Grabbing her bag, she was about to leave the seat when Nishit murmured, ‘Scoot in’

She looked blankly.

‘Get inside,’ he said, putting his bag on the bench. She had acquiesced.

With Nishit, she could never get into an oxpecker-zebra kind of relationship even though they shared a bench for one whole year. How could she be the oxpecker to his zebra when to him she was the tick herself that he wanted  to be removed.

The boundaries around him were just impenetrable. It could also have been because they were of opposite genders but she had no problem gelling with Tejas. As for the same gender, Sana, the girl would never even spare Kirti a glance unless too unnecessary. To Nishit, Sana had a lot to talk about and he listened and talked to her too.

In her eyes, Nishit had never been a good squad leader but as a partner, he was even worse.

One leg stretched out of the desk, his head leaning against the wall, his hands crossed across his chest,  he would always be listening to songs on his Walkman.

‘You are allowed to bring this to school? Won’t you be punished if you’re caught?’ She asked naively.

‘Who will tattle? You?’ 

Shaking her head, she had returned to her books.

Even though he acted all cool, she always saw him shove the device inside his bag or pant pockets whenever a teacher passed by the window. When a surprise class checking would occur, she’d see him excusing himself to use the washroom.

It must have been so much pressure, yet she did not know why couldn’t he just keep the device at home.

She had a very high opinion of class leaders. Back in her school, only the most disciplined and achieving student was made the class leader. Here, though the class voted for lazy, rule breaking students like Nishit.

The class was forever making noise. He would ask them to keep quiet once, and then get back to his Walkman. No wonder, he was getting yelled at by the teachers for not minding the class.

Once, Biology teacher was running behind syllabus and had occupied their activity period dictating the notes of meiosis and mitosis so rapidly that Kirti was having a hard time to keep up with her; she had peeped into the practical notebook of her partner and had been aghast at what she had found. He had been simply dragging his pen across the page. Big, jumbled lines stared back at her. It seemed after the first few lines, he had given up. She looked at him and he raised his brows in a ‘what’. Shaking her head, she had craned to look into Tejas’ copy. His copy didn’t even have the first few lines. At least, Sana was writing.

‘Sana, what did she say after, pair of homologous chromosomes,’ she had asked and she had expected Sana to turn up her nose but the latter had shown her notebook. She had even explained her the concept after the class. If there was anything that made Sana to receptive all, it was Biology. She was always ready to clear doubts of everyone, irrespective of their social backgrounds. Kirti believed everyone should have one such interest if that was going to make the world more receptive to others.

‘Nishit, did you watch that movie? It was so scary,’ Sana, turning around would start something. Since Kirti knew it was never meant for her and that she could never participate in these 'intellectual' conversations even if she tried, she would usually continue scribbling in her notebook.

Sana was thin in physique, her skirts short and her shirt never tucked in. She wore glasses when she had to read, other times her large, lovely eyes would be kohl-ed or lined in black, grey or even white! Her face clear and smooth and God forbid there was any break out, she’d lament about it the whole day; her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, her forehead covered in bangs. She would always leave her hair free except in the class teacher’s period who had threatened girls to braid their hair or she’d chop them herself. When Sana walked, her hips swayed with a self awareness that many of the girls’ of this school had achieved at a much earlier age than they were supposed to.

‘Are you going to the party tonight?’ Their parents were members of some clubs and the kids would always be talking about attending parties that were in Kirti’s opinion thrown uselessly.

Once she had asked if there was a reception party they had to attend.

‘Nooo. It’s just like that. We go and mingle with people, eat good food, dance or play snookers and celebrate.’

‘Celebrate what?’ Excess money?

It was through Piyush that Kirti got to know that Nishit and Tejas were cousins.Until then she had known them to be thick friends only.

‘Yes, Nishit Aggarwal’s mother is the sister of Tejas Gupta’s father. She married outside her caste you know. Into an upper caste. Nishit’s father is a Marwari unlike the Guptas who are Telis. They come under other backward classes. Sana Agnihotri is a Brahmin. They are Biharis from Madhya Pradesh, central province. I am a Brahmin too. Kanyakubja Brahmin from Uttar Pradesh. What are you?’

‘I don’t know.’ 

‘You don't know your own caste?’ 

Piyush Tiwary had organised shelves in which to place different students according to their communities, castes. Kirti had seen from a younger age people talk about an individual in terms of castes and religion. She had heard her grandmother address one as Chamar, Dhobi, Musalman or Gwala but she had attributed it to a generation problem. 

It was her first time coming across a person of the same age as hers, talking about caste like this.

‘This Tejas Gupta is a lucky b#st**d. He is super rich and will also take advantage of reservation. Hum jaison general ki kismat mein ghisna likha hai bas’

That day for the first time Kirti was secretly glad that she belonged to the general category for if kids like Piyush had so much venom for a rich person born in lower caste. To be from a lower class and also be poor, wouldn’t that have doubly marginalized her.

Being in one the lowest rungs of the social class, she as it is, faced ostracization. It was not always others but also a self imposed thing. 

She did not visit canteens anymore for she couldn’t afford those exorbitantly priced meals, forget about daily, not even once in a month.

She had for the first few days, followed her friends to the canteen and had been truly impressed by the looks of it. Until then, canteens had only featured in movies.

‘Let’s go and order, Tejas’ had invited her to come along and she had for a moment paused reading the menu prices that were painted on the side of the store.

‘I will have a plain dosa,’ she had ordered. 10 rupees she could definitely spend once in a while. 

‘Masala Dosa order kar le. Bahut tasty hoti hai,’ he advised.

‘I prefer plain’

‘Icecream, Cola?’

‘Nahi, mujhe sardi jaldi lag jati hai’

When she had returned to their table, others had already seated themselves and Kirti pulled her chair, sat and ate with them. Most of them did not get lunch boxes from home. Those who got, would quickly finish it before running to the canteen. After having her meal, when Kirti began looking for her handkerchief, she could not find it.

She searched for it under the table or beside the area where her chair is placed.

‘What are you looking for?’ Tejas asked.

‘My handkerchief’ And then she had found it, thrown aside, rumpled and soiled. She picked it up.

‘Was that your hanky?’ Aranyayani had asked. ‘Nishit thought it was a rag piece and cleaned the table with it.’

She had simply shaken the dirt out of it quietly, trying to rein in her humiliation and anger. As it is during the table when they talked and ate, she had begun to feel the difference between her and their world.

‘Yuck, What are you doing Kirti?’ Mehek asked.

‘Throw it away,’ Navyam had said. ‘Fek de Kirti,’ Tejas repeated.

She had, defiantly, folded the rag piece and put in her pocket and picked up her bottle from the table.

‘She’s crazy,’ Navyam’s words were the last she heard before she left the scene. 

The next period had been the voting for squad leader. She had voted for the girl who stood against Nishit. He had won nevertheless.

 Vulture’s cursing did not make a cow die! True indeed.

After that she seldom went to the canteen. She ate her tiffin quietly in the class making excuses when someone invited her. Sometimes Navyam would peer into her tiffin box, make a face when it would be plain chapati making her feel conscious about her chapatis, if that was possible. He made her conscious about her chowmein too. Why is it yellow? Who adds turmeric to chowmein? Well her Dadi did. She made chowmein like one prepared vegetables. Where’s the sauce? Don’t you people eat sauce? Have You eaten chowmein outside? Too many questions.If it would be aloo paratha, he would grab an entire loaf and thrust into his mouth before spreading the garlic pickle over it. ‘Awesome. The parantha and pickle is very tasty.’ When she had told her grandma about it she had begun to pack an extra paratha for Navyam. 

Most things people did, it was to be accepted and loved by people. Her entire youth it seemed was spent trying to impress people.

Navyam always called her Crazy girl. She didn’t mind the name. It was better than Bholuram that the girls called her because she knew nothing they talked about and agreed to everything they said. Earlier, she had felt good about the name. Bholi after all was a positive word but the sound of it began to irk her. Every time they called her Bholi, she heard, Fool!

Everyone in the school  was made fun of here. Parvati for the yellow glow of turmeric on her face, Kinshuk for the thick specs and dedication to problem solving; Navyam was called Motu Don or Hippo, Piyush was Pandit owing to his Brahmin status and knowledge of Granths- Upanishads and other stuff alike, Manisha was Devdasi because she was always fretting over her marks, Sana was the Diva, even Nishit was called Dipshit occasionally. 

Tejas, was Tejas, running around in his laid back attitude, not giving a damn about anything, cracking poor jokes which elicited more eye rolls and groans than guffaws.

But he was Kirti’s favourite because he never minded anything or asked probing questions. He had the ability to accept people as they were. 

‘Phone no de,’ he would ask and when she’ll say, ‘I don’t have a phone’ There was never a judgement or a counter question of haw, why, how come. Instead, he would say something like, ‘Khat likhegi kya? Mera address le lein. Do we make use of Kabootar Bhaisahab’.

Even though everyone was repulsed by his elephant and ant jokes, it always made her laugh.

‘Kirti...Kirti, this is new. So what do you call two teenage ants running to Vegas?’

‘Antass?’ She replied. The answers were always something like this.

‘No! Antelope. Ant-elope’ She would laugh while their respective partners rolled their eyes.

‘Okay, next one. Which is the biggest ant in the world? Giant!’ 

If not his jokes, his winsome smile always did it for her. 

He would make a beard and mustache of history personnel, draw clothes over naked men and women of Biology books and show it to her,and she would smile. 

Sometimes she would not get his joke.

‘Kirti, What did the elephant say to his son when he misbehaved?'

‘Don't know'

‘Tusk Tusk’ He replied.

She continued to look on at him.

‘Wasn’t it funny?’

‘Kya pata. What is tusk tusk?’

‘Arre, elephants have tusks, no?’

‘I know that much. But why is it supposed to be funny?’

‘Tsk Tsk, got it?’

She shook her head.

‘Arre yaar, we make that disapproval sound with tongue no? Like this’ He made the sound. ‘It’s spelled as Tsk’

‘Oh’

Sometimes, she'd know the answers beforehand.

‘Okay, Kirti, what is sin ishq/cos ishq?’

‘Tan ishq. I also know.’

‘Okay opposite of Dominos?’

‘Kirti knows that it is Domi-doesn’t know’

‘Abey tu toh tez ho gayi.’ She grinned.

‘Okay last one, Gulshan Grover is riding a bike at the speed of light. He offers lift to a stranger. The stranger asks his name, GG says it’s Gulshan Grocer. Tell me why he said Grocer?’

She thought hard and then shook her head. ‘Don’t know.’

‘Because at the speed of light, v=c, hahaha’

‘Oh. Ohhhhh’ She began to  giggle

‘You find these funny?’ Sana would ask condescendingly.

Kirti would shrug in reply. ‘He is funny.’ 

His laugh was funnier and contagious. It often shook her to bones and would for minutes laugh, and every time she would try to stop, he would start laughing, taking her down too.

‘Stop moving the bench,’ Nishit would complain and tears in eyes would try to contain her laughter behind bunched fingers.

Sometimes, if he told jokes when she was drinking water, which he purposely did, she would even spit water, much to the disgust of her not so good friends.

‘Tejas, please, not when I am drinking water.’ He would promise only to break it.

Once they were all standing together, Kirti was sipping water after having her tiffin. The wicked Tejas came and stood next to her narrating her tale about an elephant and ant, and the laugh had bubbled up at her throat. She had tried to control it because there was water in her mouth but it was too late, she had spat a whole mouthful of water on...Nishit soaking his neck and shirt, the undershirt now visible through the transparent shirt. A nervous giggle had escaped her lips.

‘I’m sorry’

‘Ewww, Kirti’ Sana had said in a high pitched voice. Kirti had wanted to disappear.

‘Gross,’ Navyam and the quiet Kinhsuk had said together.

Tejas was still laughing and others soon joined.

‘I am sor,’ When a livid Nishit had looked up, the words had faltered on her lips.

‘How many times Kirti we have asked you not to laugh while drinking water?’ Could she keep silent. Don’t add oil to it if you can’t douse the fire.

He had taken a step ahead towards her and the fury in his eyes made her slip behind Tejas. Surely, he wouldn’t attack Tejas, his own cousin.

‘Abey thik hai ho gaya. No need to go all hyper,’ Tejas had tried to calm him as she peered at him behind Tejas’ head. But the class hath no fury like a man spat at.

He sidestepped Tejas to come before her and snatched her uncapped bottle, she thought he would throw it away, but he kept it on the desk next to him.

‘If I see you both cracking or laughing at another joke, trust me I will not be this forgiving.’ Then he went to  clean her saliva off himself. 

She heaved a sigh of relief. That was a narrow escape.

For a full half day, she did not laugh or talk to Tejas, just as her redemption. Every time Tejas cracked a joke, she remained impassive and then as if to make him notice her penance, she would look and give Nishit an austere smile.

He would in response roll his eyes.

It only lasted a day and half though. Because then Parvati Reddy came to stand at her window and ask about English notes. When Parvati left, Tejas turned and said, ‘Kirti. Parvati is never late to school. Why?’

‘Why? Kyunki woh Parvati Reddy always ready.’

‘Jokes on my friends not allowed.’

‘Fine, why does Shobha only abuse boys? Kyunki ladkiyon ko gali Shobha nahi deti.’ 

Forgetting her penance, Kirti was once again giggling.

*I don't own the jokes. They all belong to their creators. I have done the lazy and 'neech' job of lifting them from the internet. Let me know if there is a problem I will remove it immediately.

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