Chapter 43

 41. Frooti Farewell

[PAST]

‘I think we are the only two who are working.’ Manisha said, pushing away her front bangs with the back of her hand. At the same time, she also accomplished the task of balancing the numerous food packets in her arms. Dressed in a navy blue Patiala suit, she looked royal and beautiful.

‘There’s him too,’ Kirti pointed to the boy who was assiduously arranging the square boxes in straight rows. ‘My squad leader.’ Kirti was bent, filling up a jute bag with frooti tetra packs to distribute them to their seniors.

The farewell night for their seniors was in full swing. Few programs had already been performed including her song. Once she was done with the group song; amid best wishes, thumbs up and admiring glances she had rushed to XI A which had been turned to a makeshift pantry for it was on the same floor as the assembly hall where the program was conducted. The headquarters of the Food Committee. There she had been greeted by an effusive and relieved-to-see-her Manisha.

‘KIRTIII!!!You came!’ She had run to her, stopping short of embracing Kirti in her arms. Such displays were not unwelcome but a little embarrassing  when done in open, especially in the presence of boys of other sections, all of them turned to gawk at the two expressive friends. Then there was her squad leader who had arrived there earlier than her.

‘I had promised to help you, hadn’t I?’ 

‘But I wouldn’t have faulted you for not keeping it. This is the dreaded Food Committee after all.’

When students had been asked to participate in the farewell activities and take part in programs, the Food Committee was the last activity to sign up for on the minds of IX-thers. No one wanted to wait upon their seniors and their own classmates when they could simply sit and enjoy the night watching performances. Secondly, it was a demanding job – to be on one’s toes for the entire time - that paid little or nothing in return. Sometimes you had to deal with entitled brats who came with preposterous expectations as if the night had been financed by their parents!

‘Why did you have to sign up for this then?’ Kirti asked, tossing her hair away from her shoulder. Sandy aunty had twined half of her hair and clipped it beautifully at the back. The rest of the hair had been let free. It swayed with the gentle breeze of the evening or bounced playfully and gently along her shoulders with every step or small unaware movement of hers.  She wore a suit - it was the dress code for the ninth class students - mustard yellow in colour. It had embroidery work around its collared neck and long sleeved arms . Even though compared to the girls of her class she stood nowhere, but she was pleased and content with her looks. Especially the way, the light touch of makeup - lip gloss and kohl - brought out her charm. She had liked the girl who stared back at her from the mirror. Her father had also said, she looked like a young and pretty sprite.

‘For merit points, obviously.’ 

‘The shop delivery guy has delivered more packets. It’s down in the clerical room. Go and collect it, Nishit,’ Tr.Jasmine came and informed them, interrupting Kirti and Manisha’s chatter. 

‘Alone?’ Nishit had asked.

‘Where are the other boys?’ Dance performance was on and they were all gathered at the back of the chairs watching the boisterous students jumping on Bollywood popular numbers.

‘Okay, you,’ The teacher had pointed towards Kirti. She did not know her name. ‘Go and help him.’

Bustling down the stairs and walking through the empty corridors, in the evening was an experience in itself.

‘Our voices are echoing,’ she had mentioned.

‘Hmm’

‘Our school looks so beautiful under the lights,’ she had said leaning from one of the corridors, watching the empty basketball court and the portico and pretty lawns.

‘More like haunted,’ I would say, ‘Imagine being left behind here and having to wander from this room to that.’

‘Nishit! Don’t put ideas into my head!’

He had simply shrugged, the tilt of his lips giving away his mirth.

‘Why do you boys have to add a nefarious angle to each and every thing?!’

‘It is a very legitimate angle. I don’t find anything pretty. Instead it is looking like a haunted place with not a single person in sight. No comforting sound.’ He had said leaning next to her. She turned towards the scenery, he turned towards her, his arms across his chest, his back to the scenery. 

In that moment, they shared a comfortable silence like never before.

‘Let’s go or teacher will start wondering what is taking us so long.’

‘Yes, before any Moaning Myrtle decides to sneak on us, let’s go.’

‘Moaning Myrtle?’ She was clueless.

‘You know, Harry Potter. That crying specs girl in the bathroom who frightens Harry when he’s in a tub. You’ve read/watched Harry Potter?’

‘Crying specs girl...ohhhh...Mayus Meena?’ She had watched the Hindi dubbed version on Star Gold.

‘I guess so. Is that what they call her in the Hindi version?’ 

‘Yes.’

‘Interesting. Seems I should watch the Hindi version.’

She had ignored him thinking he was looking down upon her because she had watched the Hindi dubbed one and had walked away, a song bubbling up in her breast seeing the empty corridor.

‘Awaaz Do Humko...Hum Kho Gaye…Kab Neend Se Jage...Kab So Gaye,’ She let out the words in the air. It came back to her soon enough, her words echoing.

‘Kirtiiii…’ He called. ‘Kirtiii,’ the walls replayed.

‘What?’ She asked, turning to face him.

Hands in pocket, he shrugged following her. ‘You said, awaaz do and that you were lost.’

Later when they had been distributing the food items to the students, she had by mistake stepped on the tailing sari of a pretty and glamorous senior.

‘Heyy!! What are you doing?!’ The girl had shrieked.

‘I am so so sorry. Really sorry!’ Kirti had apologised profusely. Then had shifted to the boy’s rows. While handing them the food packets, she was also appointed the task of taking their photographs. 

‘Click us too,’ One of the guys dressed in a bow and suit, handed her his phone. She didn’t know how to use it. 

‘Which one do I press?’

‘Very easy it is, here click on this one.’ The guy had explained his head really close to hers.

‘Okay,’ she clicked, the pressure of clicking the perfect picture too much to bear. ‘Is it okay?’ She asked.

‘Yeah, one more. Thank you. What is your name? Kirti. Never saw you before. Can I get extra food ka dabba? No? Am I not charming enough?’ The few others were laughing at her expense. ‘What same old frooti? That too this small? Why such a low budget, yaar? Bahut faltu school hai apna! Sala frooti se aage badhega hi nahi!’ ‘Arre Kirti, where are you going? Let’s click a picture together.’

‘Later, maybe?’ She offered. ‘Later when?’ The boy asked. 

‘Kirti,’ Nishit had come to her rescue. ‘Tr, is calling you.’

‘Who’s that guy?’ She had asked him later.

‘Tapas Roy’

‘Which class?’

‘X C’

‘He’s very good looking. Do you think he’ll be getting the Mr.Riverside title?’

‘No idea.’

‘But he’s really smart. The kind of looks that catches your eyes in a room full of people.’

‘The title is not just about looks. The judges also look for other things like confidence and presence of mind. They ask questions to know what kind of a person one really is.’

‘What kind of a person is he?’

‘I don’t know,’ he had snapped. Then later added, ‘He smokes.’

‘What?! But he is...must be only sixteen or seventeen at the most.’

‘So?’

‘How do you know he smokes? Do you smoke too?’

When he didn’t reply, she was agitated but knowing her boundaries could only add, ‘I hope you don’t. You know how injurious it is to health right? It doesn’t look cool at all. Lips become ugly.’

Then, when the program had been closing in and all the students had assembled to dance , living in the moment the life of Riley, Kirti had from the outskirts of that world, sitting down and eating her meal, had watched Nishit dance. At first with his male friends, then with Sana. Try as she might, she could never gather courage to accompany them in their merry making. Tejas had been somehow entrapped into being the cameraman for senior sari clad girls.

Years later, she would realize it - introducing Tapas Roy in the conversation - had all been a ruse. To extract a reaction from him. To make him look at her, or hear her even if it meant praising others.

If there was anyone who had looked very smart that night, it wasn’t Tapas Roy or Nikhil Bhonsle who won the Riverside title. Rather, it had been her squad leader. A ford blue color shirt tucked in and dark pants. Crew cut hair so unlike other boys he didn’t have hair falling over his forehead or combed and gelled into fancy spikes. Where others with tucked-in shirts looked like dorks, he had looked elegant and refined. Quiet and without any complaint, listening to Teacher Jasmine, as she talked about her son and his MBA placement. About her brother who was a foreign diplomat. About her husband who had passed away. Then helping them pick up the discarded frooti bottles, food packets. The only guy to stay back and clean the place. Manisha and Kirti had vested interest in staying back. The one who left last had the chances to get extra food packets and frooti. His reason was however more philanthropic.  All because Teacher Jasmine had been incharge of the Food Committee and she had been his class teacher in sixth standard. She had only joked, ‘Won’t you join my committee, Aggarwal?’ He had smiled softly, ‘Your wish, my command, Ma’am.’ Ever the charmer!

Then there was another boy - Anish Mahanty - from IX A section. Stiff and reticent. In charge of the Food Committee.

‘Thank you very much for your contribution, Manisha and Kirti,’ he had said and dismissed them.

Manisha and Kirti had lingered, sending longing glances at the spare food packets across the room . And those not anymore chilled frooti packets.

He had read their intent in their eyes. ‘Sorry, but the teacher is taking all of that.’ He had shrugged.

Manisha and Kirti had been livid. 

‘So much toiling like donkeys for nothing!’

‘I bet he’s lying. He will give some of them to his friends and will take the rest home.’

‘It is only because Navneet Sir said that no participation means no merit points that I joined the committee,’ Manisha said.

‘And I because of you.’

‘Next time we would remember never to be a part of the Committee.’ No one mentioned that there was not going to be a next time. The next year they will be in tenth and then soon applying for college. 

They had cribbed all the way to the entrance gate of their school. Her heels had begun to ache with all the standing. Her father had been waiting by his bike. 

‘Everybody left. Why did you take so much time?’ He asked.

‘I was helping out, Papa,’ she said eyeing the lone guy leave the campus and walk to his car. He looked at her and she sitting on the pillion now raised her hand half in the air, waving at him. He gave a nod and an awkward wave - perhaps he was taken aback by her familiarity. She herself did not know why she had waved at him -, getting inside his car.

The next day they had been called up to empty the assembly hall of the chairs. 

‘How did we get embroiled in this slavery all over again?’ Manisha had asked hefting a chair over her shoulder.

‘I have no idea,’ Kirti replied. She was also carrying a folded chair.

Quite a many students had used this opportunity to play truant.

The hall was empty and a few girls remained sitting in corners gossiping. There wasn’t going to be any study for even their subject teachers were relaxing in staff rooms.

‘Kirti, come here, wanna ramp walk?’ Manisha had put her hands on her hips and strutted on the makeshift runway. 

‘Woo!’ Kirti wolf whistled. Then when Manisha was turning, her chin held high and her hips bouncing with each step she took towards Kirti, Kirti waited on her knees, asking for her hand. ‘A dance with the lady, may I?’ It came very natural to Kirti. She had always (with her neighbour friends) played the male partner in dances owing to her height.

‘Sure,’ Manisha had put her hands and they had twirled about on the stage, unmindful of the other girls sitting and chatting. Separating from each other, they had giggled and talked animatedly.

When leaving, Anish Mahanty had called them, and given them frooti packets. Three to each.

‘I saved them for you two.’ He had his eyes fixed on Manisha. Perhaps he hoped to impress her but Manisha, the tomboy and quite devoted to Samarth Raisingh - their hero, had eyes for no one.

‘Oh! Thank you!’ It had added to their cheerful mood. They felt conscious of the ill feelings they had for him last night but quickly recovered thinking that after having digested the food packets he was wooing them into silence with frooti bribe now.

In the class when she had been putting the packets into her bag, ‘Hey, share one with us too.’ Navyam had said.

Kirti had thought they would judge her for wanting free frooti. Middle class mentality after all it was. However, it seemed rich or poor, no one minded freebies.

‘Why should I share with you. This is my hard earned frooti.’ They were all dancing when she had been working.

‘You have three,’ Tejas had accused.

‘So?’ She would drink one and share the other two with her brother and Dadi.

‘Miser!’ Navyam remarked.

Kirti had wanted to stick her tongue out at him. 

During the recess, she had given one of her frooti packs away. To Nishit. Dadi didn’t like to drink these sweetened or carbonated artificial drinks. And Nishit had been the only who deserved it besides her and Manisha. 

‘Don’t drink now, okay? Take it home and refrigerate it,’ she had advised as if he was a nincompoop.

[NOCOPY]