Notes From The Past: 1
June 2001, New Horizons Public School, Daryaganj, New Delhi
She was nervous to be in this school. Baba had told her that this was the best school in Old Delhi and she was fortunate that they had agreed to take her in. That too in Class IX, the year that many parents try to get their wards into a good school.
Khushi had been studying in a Government School until now and while she had been an earnest and hardworking girl, she never got grades to write home about. Her language skills were passable, she did not care for science and history bored her. However, she was good at mathematics and that was the reason why her school let her skip Fourth Grade altogether.
If a student is good in mathematics, somewhere deep down, they must be very bright, was the headmaster's rather dubious philosophy.
Baba and Ma wanted to give their daughter a good education. They ran a small sweetmeats store in Chandni Chowk, but business was slow, with newer, fancier chain restaurants setting up shop in the neighbourhood. Also, in the very crowded Chandni Chowk, where every fifth store sold mithai and samosas, it was hard to differentiate themselves. Understandably, Shashi and Garima Gupta had great hopes from their children - their son Shyam and daughter Khushi. But a day after he had turned eighteen, to mark which Shashi had rather indulgently bought Shyam a motorbike, he went missing. At first, the family suspected foul-play and lodged a complaint with the police. However, subsequent investigations revealed that Shyam had sold the bike to a college friend and had decided to go to Mumbai to try his luck in the movies. The Guptas had been shocked at the turn of events. It was not uncommon in their neighbourhood. Every other week, young men and women were lured by dreams of a better life in Mumbai, or even outside the country and left behind their families. Garima was devastated, but life had to go on. The shop could not be shut and so they tried to recover Shyam through some extended family connection in Mumbai. But after a year, they gave up on this. And Shyam Gupta was lost forever. Dead or alive, they couldn't say. Khushi who was seven years younger than her brother, was not particularly close to him. And if anything, was happy when he was gone because it freed up a little space in their very small home.
So, it was on Khushi that all the hopes and dreams of parental aspiration fell upon. Which is why, when she was go to Class IX, her parents decided that their daughter needed to get the best opportunities when it came to education and set their sight on the very posh New Horizons Public School, known for its impeccable academic record. One would think that Khushi had a very bleak chance of getting admission into a school like that. For neither did she have prodigious brilliance nor did her parents or family have connections. The school attracted children who belonged to very rich families or those with political connections. However, all was not lost and Khushi had one thing going for her. She was better than most girls or boys her age when it came to one thing - and that was running.
She had already represented Delhi in various track and field games and was the inevitable champion in all the inter-school competitions in the city. The sports coach of New Horizons Public School, Shafee Ahmed Baig, or Baig Sir as he was referred to was the one to spot Khushi's talent at a sports meet and persuaded the school board to admit her. In the interest of improving the student diversity and to up the sporting achievements of the school, they had taken her in. Of course, she had to stay back after school everyday for an hour to improve her language skills and get extra coaching in science.
And that is how, Khushi Gupta, daughter of Shashi Gupta and Garima Gupta, owners of Gupta Mithais in Chandni Chowk got into the hallowed walls of New Horizons Public School, or as the denizens preferred to call it New-Ons. She too was a New-On-Ite now.
The purpose of a school uniform is that it is, well.. uniform. The same. You may be rich, you may be poor, you may be tall, you may be short, fat, thin, any skin-tone, but you will look like the others because of the uniform. Schools use that as an equaliser. But the truth is that uniforms fail all the time. As Khushi discovered on her very first day at New-Ons. The fees of New-Ons, the books, the expensive uniforms, even more expensive shoes were a burden on the Guptas. But they had recently built an altogether illegal second floor in their house. The room was given on rent and it brought in the additional money to fund Khushi's upmarket education. When Khushi had worn the short grey skirt, the checked white and blue shirt and teemed it up with Reebok shoes that the school recommended, she couldn't help but preen in front of the mirror. Wow, I look like a New-On-Ite, she thought. Except that she didn't. She realised that as soon as she walked into Class IX D and sat on the back bench. The room began to fill in, and girls with the most fashionable bags walked in, their skirts with pulled up hems, their socks rolled down to reveal their ankles and their shampoo advertisement hair that they flicked and pulled up in a ponytail just seconds before the teacher entered. And the boys, each with more hair gel than the other, their pants a bit too tight and their ties casually wrapped around their neck. Basically, everyone was beautiful. And though most of her classmates were probably fifteen, or fourteen like her if they had managed to gain a year, they somehow looked much older.
And even though she was fourteen, she remembered it vividly when a very pretty girl walked in, with an even prettier boy. The girl had long hair that was neatly braided. But without any oil, of course. She was very fair, her cheeks flushed, a dark pink, almost as pink as her bag which had a picture of a Disney Mermaid on it. As soon as she entered the room, many of the kids rushed to her.
Payal, your hair has become so long.
How was summer school?
Do you know Surbhi and Arjun are seeing each other now?
This went on for a while. Payal looked disinterested in the conversation and instead looked around the classroom, assessing the situation. School-term had begun and it was time to take stock of new hair-cuts, girls who had become fat and fat girls who had become thin. Few had acquired accents after a couple of weeks holiday in America. Few remained boringly same. And across the classroom, she spotted her. Khushi should have looked away, it was rude to stare at someone. But this was all so new too her, she couldn't look away.
"Aye, Arnav, who is that behenji?" she asked the pretty boy who had stayed quietly by her side and pointed in Khushi's direction. Pretty boy, aka Arnav looked up from the video game that had taken up his attention all this while and looked at her. This time Khushi looked away.It was not that she was not used to boys looking at her. They always did. Back in her old school, boys stared at her all the time. Albeit leeringly, the way fifteen-year-olds knew to leer that is. In Chandni Chowk, all those bhaiyas did look at her when she walked to the bus-stop from her home. And she didn't have to look at them to know that their gaze was anything but brotherly. She was a pretty girl. Perhaps not by New-Ons standards, but by Chandni Chowk standards she was.
"You look like Gauri," Akshay Bhaiya told her one day when she was managing the cash counter at the shop.
Gauri, was the female protagonist of the film Lagaan that had just released. Khushi hadn't watched the movie, but everyone was talking about it. Gauri was attractive in a pedestrian sort of way, but it pleased Khushi enough to accept a tattered fifty rupee note from Akshay Bhaiya. She buried the note at the bottom of the cash box, because she knew that Maa would be livid when she did the accounts at the end of the day. Accepting torn notes were an even bigger crime than giving credit in Maa's assessment.
But never had a boy like Arnav looked at her. Probably because boys like Arnav didn't hang around Gupta Mithai at Chandni Chowk.
"She can hear you, Payal, shut up," he had hissed and took his place on the front bench.
Behenji. Sister. Nobody had called Khushi that. The assistant at the shop called her Didi and to the customers she was either 'aye ladki' or 'suno beta'.There was nothing wrong in being a behenji, a sister, not in her world at least. But even Khushi knew that in the world of the New-On-Ite with their shampoo-ad hair and Disney branded schoolbags, this was a definite affront. Even without looking up she could sense the eyes of a few girls from Payal's entourage, turn back, look at her and giggle. But Khushi determinedly looked at her empty notebook and arranged her pens on her desk.
She had suspected that life would be tough for her. And she wouldn't fit in easily and quickly as a New-On-Ite. But she still felt a tad sorry for herself. Children had the ability to be so casually cruel.
"Hey, are you the runner girl," a friendly voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up from her desk and saw a cute girl, wearing short hair and a friendly smile.
"Ye.sss," she managed to stammer.
"Cool! Baig Sir told me about you. I am Lavanya, the Vice Captain of New-Ons sports team. What is your name," she asked her.
"I am Khushi. Khushi Kumari Gupta," she added and offered the friendly girl a small smile.
"Wow, middle name and all, haan? Fancy! Anyway, don't sit here at the back, come and sit with me," she said, picked up Khushi's bag and started walking to the front of the classroom before she even had a chance to say anything.
Khushi picked up her notebook and pens and followed Lavanya to the second row, right behind Arnav and Payal. A studious looking boy was sitting there.
"Aakash, this is Khushi. She will be sitting with me, tu peeche ja na," Lavanya instructed studious boy.
Studious boy did not protest, gathered his things almost immediately, waved at Khushi absentmindedly and vacated the spot. Khushi took the place next to Lavanya who began regaling her on the all sports tournaments that were coming up. At some point she tapped Arnav on his shoulder , who turned behind to look at them.
"Nanav, this is Khushi. She will be training with us for the triathlon. And Khushi, this is Nanav, the captain of our sports team," Lavanya introduced pretty boy to the behenji.
"Hi, Nanav," Khushi said shyly. Where uniforms failed, sports did not, bringing all kinds of people together.
"Hi, Khushi, my name is Arnav. Only Lavanya calls me Nanav. Welcome to New-Ons," he offered his hand and smiled at her.
His hands were warm, his handshake firm, his eyes the most beautiful brown, his eye-lashes long and completely wasted on a boy and his smile kind of crooked.
Khushi liked him already.
**
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