Parth
"Parth Samthaan, tumhare ghar se phone aaya hai." our caretaker come office boy, Raghu, called out to me.
We were hurrying across the corridor to attend our 'Hindi' class.
We, means Utkarsh, Angela, Neeti and I.
In the past few days, we have formed some sort a group, and though I hate to call it a friends' gang' (or whatever cool' terms people use now-a-days) yet, but the adverse situations we all had to go through in the past few days have really brought us closer.
Of course, Utkarsh was the glue that was holding us together.
"You guys carry on. I'll see you all in a minute." I gave them a nod and headed towards the office room.
As I picked up the receiver, I realized my heart was racing. *Mom, aap thik toh ho na!* I muttered a silent prayer under my breath.
"Hello, Parth?" relief washed over me as I heard Mom's voice on the other end.
"Mom, I called you yesterday, but you didn't pick up? Everything is fine na, mom?" I tried to hide the concern in my voice, but she, being 'my mom', could detect it instantly.
"I am sorry beta. I went to M.G. Road, to meet Anjali aunty...and you can't believe what she told me. She may actually have an opening for me in her company. They need an accountant and she promised me an interview next month." she's not sounded this excited in ages.
"I am so happy for you, mom." I smiled fondly, imagining her face lighting up like a little girl at this new prospect. My mom, the eternal optimistic.
"Achcha yeh bata, how's new school? Naye school mein koi naya dost banaya ke nahi?" I couldn't tell if she's teasing my eternal inability at making new friends.
Let's surprise her a little.
"Actually, I have made a lot of new friends." I was feeling smug.
*Thanks to a certain Utkarsh Rajput and his 'never-say-never' attitude towards making friends.* I corrected myself inwardly.
"Really? Well, that's definitely an improvement." she was still joking, but I could sense the relief in her voice. "And does your friend list includes any pretty girl? Someone I should know about?"
*Oh no! She is at it again.* I sighed.
"Listen mom, we had to choose our streams yesterday. I went with PCM, Physics, Chemistry and Maths. Also we have compulsory Hindi and English literature." I skipped the 'boxing-as-a-fourth-subject' bit. It would definitely freak her out.
"I know mera beta jo bhi decision leta hai, who soch samajh ke hi leta hai. I am proud of you, my son." I knew she had that warm smile on her face, which made me miss her even more.
"Mom, I miss you so much." A lump was rising in my throat and threatened to choke my voice.
"I miss you too beta. Tumhare bina yeh ghar, ghar nahi lagta. But I know my Parth will be strong for me." She had a little tremble in her voice.
I stood there silently, trying to ignore the prickling in my eyes. She didn't speak for a while too.
Mothers can see through our silence, I guess.
Suddenly, I heard another voice on the other end.
The voice which I was least expecting to hear at this moment.
"Kisse baat kar rahi ho?" it was the man I hated the most. The tormentor of our lives, my Stepfather, apparently threatening my mom over a phone call.
"I am talking to our son." Mom's voice had a steely calmness.
"NOT OUR SON, it's YOUR SON. Ask your Sahaab zada' whether he is at all into studies, or simply wasting MY hard-earned MONEY in chasing girls and smoking weeds." I could picture him in my mind, mouthing those nasty words with a devilish grin.
I could feel a dull throbbing in my temples. I was about to lose my calm.
"Pankaj, please. Don't be ridiculous. Who humara beta hai. I know my son. Maybe it's time you know him, too." Mom, like me, was losing her temper too, I could tell that; but since when did @-h***s like that man care about others' feelings?
"Maybe you could teach him a lesson or two about how to BEHAVE, with elders!" He hissed menacingly. "Tum dono maa-bete mil kar yeh jo mera khoon choos rahe ho na, yeh zyaada din nahi chalega. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU CRAZY, PSYCHOTIC..."
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Had I been there, I would have gouged out his tongue before he could say another word about MY MOM.
"You talk to her like that again, and I will make you regret every word that comes out of your dirty mouth. SUNA AAP NE? STAY AWAY FROM MY MOTHER, OR ELSE I WILL KILL YOU.
I SWEAR.
I WILL KILL YOU. YOU BUSTAR..." the contempt I felt for him at that moment was unprecedented.
I felt like sitting on a ticking time-bomb. All those rage and hatred boiling inside me threatening to undo me at any moment.
A reassuring touch on my shoulder started me out of my feverish nightmare.
It was Rishab Sir. I didn't hear him enter, though.
Now he was standing behind me, eyeing me with a little concern.
"Parth, is everything alright?" a little crease had appeared on his forehead.
I wanted to scream "NO! NOTHING IS. AND NOTHING WILL BE. ALRIGHT. EVER."
I wanted to f*cking cry!
Instead, I just managed to nod briefly, before throwing the receiver on the cradle and scuffled out of the room.
I barely managed to walk myself out when suddenly, out of nowhere, a figured appeared in my peripheral vision and...
BAM!!
Before I could realize or control myself, I'd collided against something.
Rather, someone.
Siddharth Rajput
Have you ever watched those campy Bolly movies?
Yes, those piece of arts (craps, actually) where the hero collides with the heroin, they look into each others' eyes, heroin's red dupatta floating in the air (like traffic signal), then violin starts playing in the background and our lovestruck couple break into a song-and-dance sequence (with background dancers perfectly matching steps with them!)
Reminded you of 'Main hoon na', I bet.
Now, try to picture this.
Instead of Shah Rukh Khan, imagine 'Grumpy cat'...and in place of 'Sushmita Sen' in her se*y backless saree', try to imagine a fifty year old aunty, clad in 'kanchipuram' sarees and 'gajra' (flowers) in her braid, just like 'Bittoo Sharma ki bua jee'.
What a priceless Jodi, right?
Well, unlike you, I don't even have to imagine all these, cause the scene was taking place right in front of my eyes (bless them!)
Moments ago, I saw the 'walking-talking Robo' (who calls himself Parth and acts like a cross between Amit jee in 'Agneepath' and Arnie in 'Terminator') coming out of the office room like a raging bull.
He looked pissed, as usual. Heck, even the 'walking dead' zombies had more expression than this guy.
Little did he see our Mananiya adhyapika' Kamini Chitralekha' Singh, swaying and sashaying her way to the office room.
A moment later, they are enacting the trip-and-fall sequence in front of the whole school.
This cute little 'PDA' was so charming', it almost made me throw up.
Even the bull looked as surprised as the rest of us, still trying to figure out how Kamini aunty' ended up in his toned, tattooed arms.
"Aaj toh Kamini iss ki le legi, bhai." Charlie whispered gleefully in my ears.
I nudged him to stop. This is going to be too entertaining to miss.
Meanwhile, Kamini jee had finally managed to find her feet and was adjusting the pallu' of her saree, all the while giving an expression that could put Rekha in Umraao jaan' to shame.
"Balwan jee, zara dekh ke chala kijiye." She said in a mock-scolding tone. "Kahin laagi toh nahi?" she traced her finger across his arm, purring like a kitten.
"Aankhon hi aankhon mein ishara ho gaya/ hayee/ baithe baithe jeene ka sahara ho gaya." Before I could stop him, Charlie had broken into an impromptu song.
It hardly helped that he had the most 'besura' (tuneless) voice I've ever heard.
"Saalim, haye mera Saalim, tum kahan chale gaye the?" One of the boys from the senior group, who were standing nearby and enjoying the full view, cried out in a high-pitched girly voice, followed by a few wolf-whistles.
Now, I know I can be a cold-hearted monster some times, but the furious blush on Parth's face almost made me feel sorry for him.
He visibly squirmed from her touch, mumbling something like "I am fine." In a barely audible voice.
"Sirf tan ki shakti hi kafi nahi, uss ke sath sath dimaag aur 'drishti' (eyesight) bhi tez hona zaroori hai." Our Kamini jee and her sudhdh desi' dialect were unstoppable.
"Tan ki shakti, man ki shakti, badhaye Bournvita. Mummy ko bolo Bournvita pilane ke liye." Someone in the back of the crowd sang a familiar tune from an ad-jingle, much to the amusement of the crowd.
This seemed to have rubbed 'the bull' in the wrong way, as he shot angry glances at the crowd. Kamini jee, too, seemed to come back to the earth after her little trip to heaven.
"Aap sab khade khade yahan kya dekh rahe hai. Chaliye sab apne apne 'kakhsha' (class) mein jaiye." She adjusted her gajra' and threw one last (wishful) glance at the bull. The corner of her lips twisted in a mysterious smile as she walked inside the office room.
The crowd started thinning, knowing that the show' is over.
At the back side of the crowd, I spotted the famous trio from the orphanage.
The 'Oliver Twist' aka Utkarsh looked concerned, perhaps for his best friend, the bull', who seemed to be the least concerned about him anyways.
Then there was Neeti, 'chota packet bada dhamaka' - kissi ne sach hi kaha hai. She tried to act too intimidating, but her size (or the lack of it) won't allow me to take her seriously.
...and then there was Siyali (or Angela, who happened to call herself Siyali. Whatever!)
If looks could kill, then my bones and ashes would've scattered to the floor, the way she was sending me death-glares'.
Too bad for her, cause I'd no plan of dying so soon.
I held her gaze steadily, then gave her a sly wink, something that Krissann swore could melt every girl's heart and turn their knees to jelly.
Siyali seemed startled for a moment, but the deadly look was back in her eyes and she mouthed something that seemed to me like @$$***'.
If the bull' and Siyali ever had an angry glare' competition, I wasn't sure who'd win it.
"My Gosh, you're something else, ain't you, gal?" I chuckled inwardly.
Look, my dear ladies, I know you think of me as a Casanova, probably Lord Kaamdev' himself (pardon my innuendo), but let me tell you that I have never, EVER, been in a serious relationship in my life.
Probably because I found most of the girls I've met so far as boring.
Girls bore me, honestly.
But NOT all girls, definitely NOT this one.
She seems like a challenge, from every angle.
I love challenges.
I see her lips parted, her nostrils flaring, the rosy tint at the tip of her nose.
I want to kiss her senseless.
Siyali
Siddharth Rajput.
How I would like to obliterate this guy from the face of the earth.
That obnoxious, little devil is the reason I've started hating this place.
Warrior High, the place of my dreams, has turned into a nightmare because of this guy.
A part of me secretly wishes that tonight, Utkarsh and Parth together teach this guy a lesson.
A lesson, which this creep will not forget in his lifetime
But the part of me which is sane keeps telling me that the boxing match is going to be a disaster.
Utkarsh alone is no match for these beasts, at least physically.
My Utkarsh has not even hurt a fly in his life.
Sometimes I want to slap myself for being so stupid, for trusting Siddharth Rajput with my secret.
I should've never given him the 'dabba'.
I know how far Utkarsh can go to bring the 'dabba' back, to bring his 'maa' back.
It makes my heart ache to think that nobody could possibly understand his attachment to that box, barring the three of us.
Only the three of us, who knew how it feels to grow up without a mother or a father.
I wish from my heart that I could do something to protect my best friend from the physical and mental pain he's about to suffer.
If only I was a legitimate student of Warrior High' and not an imposter of another girl!
I could've raised my voice against this atrocity of the rich, spoilt brats.
Par yahaan meri wajood hi kya hai?
But today, I made a promise to myself.
No matter what, we three will stick together through worse or better.
Tonight, Siddharth Rajput, I hope you burn in hell!
(Next part : See below)
