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Part One

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A

Thirty two out of fifty, I wrote.

Prateek was standing beside my chair in full attention, waiting for my next comment. Maybe that was

first serious test of his life. He probably didnt know what that all drama was for.

You are failed, you know, I said, circling his marks on the front page of his maths quiz sheet.Prateek looked at me. He might not know what did that mean by the word fail. He had never failed till

then, he had topped his class instead, every time. So all he did was, stood beside me, dumbstruck.

I had not played cricket with him that day or gone on a scooter ride. In fact I did nothing that could

interest him or make him happy or make him feel loved. All I did was took a maths test and then had said he

was fail. I had kind of scolded him that day, perhaps first time in his life. That was the day when I had lost

my job. Well, that was not a big deal or might be a big deal in my life as I got to be a teacher then after.

Prateek was eleven years old then, eligible to be, what they call to a student, raw material for a school.

I had failed him while he had scored outright sixty four percentages.

He fetched his quiz sheet and ran away. After a while he came back to me with his small bat and a light

rubber ball.

Dad, come, he said, bowl to me.

We, Prateek and me, had played a lot of games together. Every time he batted first. We mostly did not

do any toss. And sometimes when we tossed and I won it, he forced me to choose field. And I dont know

why I always liked it to field first. He was a superb striker in his childhood. He had broken a lot of vases,

windowpanes, mirrors, cups and bottles whenever he got the ball in his right areas. Direct hit to opposite

wall would be a six in our home cricket rules manual. And Prateek had hit a lot of them.

Till that day, his most terrific shot that I remember was the lofted shot he had played on my short ball.

Ball hit Madhus head who was fielding at silly mid-off. And that day, I had to cook food. It was a pathetic

experience for me. Dal had precipitated in the bottom of the saucepan, spices had all came up and made a

layer on the top. You really could separate all things from my dal with ease.

I am not a good cook. I can make only one thing in kitchen and that is tea. However no one likes it

when I make it.

And that day, like every another day, nobody liked my food. I had to run for a kilometer to bring food

from a restaurant.

Well, come back to that day when I lost my job and Prateek failed in maths quiz scoring sixty four

percentages marks, I lost the toss as well to Prateek. Madhu didnt play that day. Anyway, she is always out

of form.

You have improved your swing, dad, Prateek said as a short pitch ball beat him.

Of course, I replied.I bowled another in-swinger with same short length but putting my best on it. Prateek jumped down

the track, taking the best of the swing in the middle of his bat. He smashed the ball through the window,

breaking the glass, out of the stadium. He lifted his bat in the air in Ganguly style. And the match had to be

abandoned in halfway for we didnt have another ball.

Madhu Madhu, I called out from the kitchen.

I couldnt find where the sugar was. I was making tea on the gas stove. Dal was boiling on another

burner. I checked out all containers, but couldnt get sugar. Then I took out a spoon to check dal. Spoon

disturbed the arrangement of appliances and stainless steel plates clanged on the floor. Two tea cups fell

on the floor and shattered into pieces.

Madhu appeared there, like goddess appears before giant in that TV serial. The day was not mine.

What the hell are you doing? she shouted on me in the steamy air.

Making tea, I said, being innocent how Prateek had taught me to be one, where is sugar?

Dont enter my kitchen. Madhu snatched the spoon from me.

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I got out of kitchen.

Can you go and fetch all the clothes in? It seems like rain may happen shortly.

I went to collect clothes on the roof.

Well, before it begins to rain, let me do a start. I am Pankaj Mehra. I come from Jodhpur, a city in

western India. I am forty-five years old. I am a teacher. My family is my story which includes my wife

Madhu Gupta Mehra, my son Prateek and my daughter Paridhi (Pari).

Am I looking like hurrying to tell you my story? Yes? No? I am too precautious when happen to bedrunk. Okay, let the writer balance it out.

Although, I am one of those typically boring type of teacher, but the writer thinks my story is

interesting. I know its a little a little OK, leave it. I would say what I say to Prateek, I am not

responsible.

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B

That was my second day with joblessness. Night had passed more than usual. Drizzle had stopped. A

hot and rainy day had turned into a cool and silent night after an afternoon-evening rain. It was around

midnight when Madhu asked me, so they fired you or what?

I am not fired, I said, lying next to her, the project is over.Youare not bearable even for a single day if you are jobless, I thought in silence.

I was out-of-work since previous night. Before that, I had been working in a power substation project in

Sardarpura for more than a year. I rarely got any appropriate job in Jodhpur. Every year I gave at least five

interviews.

So now?

Now I have headache. Jobs vacancies are out there, thats not the big worry.

Madhu kept quiet for a few seconds. She pulled me; I rolled down on bed and faced her. She touched

my forehead with front and then back of her hand.

This is because of heat, she said, should I make tea or coffee?

Now?

I think a little milk is left in fridge, she said.

Sure, if you are not tired.

Madhu got up and moved to kitchen. I massaged my head. I pressed hard on my temples. I felt tired. I

stayed back on bed. I thought for next job interview.

I checked on kids. Both had slept. Then I go to wash my face. There was no sleep in my eyes. Then I

went to kitchen. A blow of stiff cold breeze came up in behind me. I put my arms around Madhu, from

behind. She didnt react to me but kept stirring milk on burner with a spoon. I wanted to know why she was

so distracted. I had stayed at home only for two days.

You should not be low like this, I said, let the next jobs tensions be with me.

She decreased the flame of gas burner and then turned to me with all teary eyes.

What happened, Madhu?

Madhu didnt speak for a while. She is difficult to understand, sometimes. I just hugged her tight. She

rested her head on my chest.

I dont know Pankaj, sometime what happens to me, she sobbed at my chest and increased my

heartbeats.

I waited for her to talk.

Neetu called me in the afternoon.

Oh, how is she, I asked, is she alright? I suspected if something unexpected had happened to Neetu.

She looked me in the eye. My T-shirt was wet with her tears.Yes. She is fine. She told me she misses us very much, she said and paused for a while, Pankaj, why

did we leave Jaipur where our own people live? Why couldnt we live there? Why did this happen?

Her emotions usually would last longer. I had to calm her down. I hugged her tight and kissed her on

forehead.

We cannot change whathas happen Madhu, I said, it was just destined to happen.

She kept quiet. Milk on the stove became hotter, steam rose up from it. I gave her a glass of water and

increased the flame of gas burner.

We sipped coffee on our bed.

It was a little cold when we slept. She cuddled me as I pulled blanket over.

I love you, I whispered.

***

Wake up, Madhu had yelled at me for the third time, I have a news for you.

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I, half slept, didnt respond. I am a heavy sleeper of morning times.

What a lazy person, wake up, she scolded me like she does to Prateek and snatched my blanket. She

opened the window and sun fell on my face.

It was eight in the morning when I finally got off the bed. I yawned. I stretched my body. Then I

yawned again. She faced me. Instead of wishing me morning, she gave me a dirty look.

Half an hour later, when I completely realized that I was awake, Madhu served me breakfast and the

news together.There is an ad in the paper, she said.

I took a piece of paratha and listen.

BAL Niketan Public School needs a physics teacher.

So?

Ive decided that you are going to apply for it.

I didnt respond. Paratha tasted good.

So, say something?

I liked the news, I said.

Will you apply for that?

You have already decided that, I said, havent you?

Madhu raised an eyebrow at me.

This is not funny, Pankaj. You are jobless and we have a family. You know that?

I had never thought about being a teacher in life. And all of sudden when I thought about it, I found

myself hating being a teacher. I remembered my school days where we never liked our teachers.

Will you say something? she screamed.

Teaching wont suit me. I am engineer, not a BSc graduate, as soon as Id said that, I expected a burst

of taunts from my BSc graduate wife.

Ok. Then stay at home, cook food, feed Pari, drop Prateek to his school every day, she counted on

her fingertips, Ill apply for that.

Those things trapped me into trouble.

We finished our breakfast. I read that ad also.

I say make a call or go to school before vacancy gets filled.

I mulled over it over breakfast and realized that Madhu was talking sense. All jobs are boring at some

point and all boring jobs pay in that order, more or less. So, I called at the number. School principal called

me to school and he said that there would be a demo class followed by a formal interview.

I went to Gargi Book Store near MBM College and bought four physics books for class eleventh and

twelfth, state board syllabus. I fell onto the books in the afternoon to prepare for a demo. It was strange to

open those books again after Fifteen years.

***

That day was lucky, my scooter started with the first kick. I missed my father for that particular

moment. I dont know why but scooter and going to school looked like standing next to my fathers

memories. Like those innocent days, that day Id waken up early in the morning. I took bath. Madhu fed me

breakfast instead of Sarita.

BAL Niketan Public School, the most popular school of the area and there I was, desirous to be an

employee in it. I noticed the three storey school building with familiar stone exterior from the parapet to

ground and drove into it.

Early morning and a fresh day but tense head I waited in there. Nothing creepy like being

unemployed.

Pankaj Mehra? an elderly man came to me after fifteen minutes wait. He had worn a loose shirt and

formal trousers. He got a thick French cut beard on his bespectacled face and few hairs on his head. In a

school, he could only be a principal.

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Yes, I said. We shook hands.

Sorry to keep you waiting, he said, I am Tilak Acharya, Principal of BAL Niketan Public School.

I sat across the principals table on visitors chair. He checked out my rsum and attached documents

whatever he had asked me to bring.

Have you taught somewhere else before? he asked.

No.

Tuitions? he removed his glasses and glanced at me interrogatively.I teach my son at home, he is in sixth standard now, I said.

So here we have totally inexperienced man in this field, he smiled at me.

I let him make a conclusion like that on me. I nodded. I smiled back at him.

Ok Mr. Mehra, he stood up, now well go to classroom. You will have a demo class for an hour and

then will take students feedback.

We walked towards classrooms. We entered a classroom on the ground floor and fifty of students

stood up from their stools. Principal and I both stood front of the class.

He is Mr. Pankaj Mehra. He will teach you physics, principal introduced me to the class. Then

principal went to the first row of students, drew a stool and sat down.

Sit down, please, I said and waited for them to settle down, as sir told you I am here to teach you

physics, I picked up a chalk from the desk and stretched out my hand to the students, tell me any topic or

lesson.

Electrostatic, rotational motion, nuclear physics, the whole class broke into whispers.

Calm down, calm down. We have only one hour. Let me start with electrostatic, I said and wro te

ELECTROSTATIC on the board. I tried my best fonts and curves to scribble those thirteen letters. In case

better hand writing could be a sign of skills.

I started plotting, there are three fields we mostly study about Gravitational field, Electric field and

Magnetic Field. You have already studied the Gravitational field in previous class. Gravitational Force?

Story of an apple that fell on Newtons head, remember? I paused with a question mark for three second.

Ok, lets start studying a new field here, the Electric Field, I underlined the word on the board, the

soul of electrical engineering, I added. It sounded like an impression, at least to me.

I spent almost an hour in that class, illustrating concepts of electrostatic with articulatory gestures,

defining new terms, interspersing simple examples and answering their questions. Meanwhile Id pause

and look around. More than fifty pair of eyes would look at me and so the heads would nod in reflex when

Id ask an open question is that clear?

Dont look convinced if you are not, I scanned the rows once again if there was any doubt waiting to

be noticed.

I wrote a sample question on the board and asked them to work it out. I waited on teachers desk.

Ok Mr. Mehra, thank you, principal interrupted me. I came out of class and principal stayed back. Aboy almost twelve years old got me a cup of tea and led me to staff room. I held my tea cup with chalk

smeared hand and sipped.

Ten minutes later, Tilak Acharya, returned to me. He drew a chair and sat across me.

So Mr. Mehra, you dont have experience, he paused, but still we consider you.

I kept quiet and nodded.

Students gave mixed reviews about you, he said and stroked his chin, lets talk about the salary.

And there I considered my job back.

Six, he said.

Six! I showed my disbelief. Six is too less. My previous job paid me ten, I said. Madhu had taught me

how to bargain, I was also not lying though.

Who is taking physics classes at present, I asked a non-relevant question.

Principal totally ignored my question.

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Look Mr. Mehra, this school is run by a trust and we have limitations. And also, a teachers job cant

pay you as much as an engineers does, he paused for a while, how much you see?

Nine at least, I regretted it reducing my price.

Seven last.

That is not affordable to me, I said.

Principal stared at me and then down at his table shaking his head for five seconds.

Ok Mr. Mehra, thank you for coming, he extended his hand I shook it. I stood up to leave, he camealong.

You dont have job now and besides teaching is not a back breaking job, its easy, he said.

You dont have a physics teacher either, I said.

That, he didnt like about me. You dont talk like that to your interviewer. But I didnt regret that. I was

an engineer and he offered me six?

I kicked to start my scooter and drove out of campus.

***

Prateek! I called out loud, come, lets study.

Prateek came to me running. We went to his room.

From now on, mamma wont teach you, I will, I said, where is your bag?

I sat on his bed, he sat on chair. His legs fell short to touch the floor. He started swinging his legs under

the chair.

Dont swing you legs, I said.

I opened up his bag. I checked it out for the first time. A geometry box in the front pocket of his bag

and then six text books and six notebooks, I took them all out. I picked up geography book.

How many chapters have been taught to you?

Two, Prateek said.

Name?

Chapter one I am Earth and chapter two Continents and Oceans, Prateek said.

Correct, I said, now tell me umm how many continents are there on the earth?

Prateek answered, correct.

Oceans?

Five.

Name?

Prateek counted on fingertips and hiccupped after every name.

Now round for some tough questions, and this one is going to be really really tough, I said, are you

ready for that?

Yes sir, Prateek exclaimed, accepting the challenge.Where is Madagascar situated? I quizzed.

And Prateek couldnt answer that. He kept thinking for a while. Then he mischievously said, sir didnt

tell us that?

How can that happen? Is second chapter is completed in class? I wore a serious look.

Prateek nodded.

Then?

Prateek kept quiet.

You dont pay attention in class?

I was waiting for his response when Madhu called me from living room, your phone!

I rushed into living room; it was Tilak Acharya from Bal Niketan Public School. We bargain once again

over telephone chat until Madhu came to settle the bargain. She helped me to get five hundred more.

Seven and halfwas my monthly salary.

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I had found out a lot of options to pass my time during my joblessness. I went out for jogging, first time

after years. I taught Prateek. I talked to my neighbors who always thought that I was an unsocial creature. I

went shopping with Madhu even for vegetables. I spent horrible time in living room watching Madhus

favorite TV serials and survived the rubbish of highly sentimental recipe they served. She never let me

watch discovery channel or national geographic or a cricket match. And I tell you, that was more boring

than working at a power substation or teaching kids in school.

Although I was not happy with the cash they were paying to me, but happy to have a job after lazingaround for a week, a run-of-the-mill job.

***

Staff room was quite tiny to have all the faculty members of BN School in it. I had taken four consecutive

classes in a hot July morning. People were sitting around a big wooden table on plastic chairs. A big ceiling

fan was whirring over heads. Room had one door and one window. If all the teachers got into it, it would

give no better feeling than a typical Jodhpur city bus. Well, we the teachers were not concerned about that.

It was not in contract that there would be an air-conditioned staff room.

When I first time appeared at doorstep and had a look inside, I stuck for a little while thinking if I

should enter.

Hi, I said.

Some people looked up at me but nobody responded.

I walked in to reach to most innocent looking guy in the corner. I took a plastic chair to sit on. A lady

opposite me across the wooden table was waving a newspaper across her face to fight the heat. An old man

was sitting next to the door reading a newspaper and was too stuck into it.

Newly joined? a young guy beside me asked.

Yes, I said, today itself.

I saw blurred view of his eyes behind thick glasses. Glasses had exactly defined him as a teacher.

A twelve year boy entered with a teapot and paper cups. He had worn a blue T-shirt and black scruffy

pair of jeans. He moved to teachers one by one asking, Chai?

Dont you serve snacks? I asked as he handed me a tea in a paper cup.

That will be in mess, he said and moved to next person.

I finished my tea and came out of staff room as Tilak Acharya met me for the first time that day saying,

welcome to BAL Niketan. I thanked him and we shook hands. We went to his office for a talk. He explained

me the spectrum of classes related to me. He told me the minimum number of quizzes and tests I had to

take. He read out the rules and regulations for teachers of BN School to me where I was supposed not to

smoke inside campus. I was expected to come in time, complete my course in time and try to maintain the

discipline in school.

I came out of his office. Recess had finished. I took out chit from my pocket to see where my nextassigned period was. I had started out as a professional teacher since that morning.

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C

This way your study cannot go well, I said.

I had been taking care of Prateeks studies for a week and I found that he was weaker than my

imaginations. He broke windows, wandered in street all day, brought complaints from school and

neighbors but didnt study.Make a timetable, I said.

After five minutes he showed me his notebook with a time-table. I made some correction in his time

table like increasing the time for English and Maths, inserted play time and wake up time and bed time.

Then I helped him to paste it on the bedside wall of his study room.

What is this time for?

Seven thirty to eight IBC news, he read out from the wall.

We both got into living room and switched on television for IBC news.

***

Dont you like to go to school? I asked.

Miss Paridhi Mehra was all set to debut in schooling, with a sullen face. Since morning we all had

called her by her full name, Miss Paridhi Mehra, quite unpronounceable at first. Pari was all she was

familiar with.

Lips pressed hard against each other, cheeks puffed out, eyes stuck on my knees and hands busy

tugging at my collarMiss Paridhi Mehra decline to talk or even to look up. I had dressed her up in a white

shirt, blue skirt and blue stripped tie. Prateek called her a penguin. She didnt like it to be called a

penguin.

She shook her head.

If you go to school, Ill buy you a scooter like mine, I said.

Paris mood didnt improve.

Pari, dont be so cheeky. Lets go to school, we are getting late, I said a little sternly.

Pari clamped her lips with more force. With frequently blinking eyes, she was a moment away from

crying.

OK, Im sorry, I said. Nobody will scream now, Pari is departing for school.

She didnt know why everybody was forcing her to leave the home.

Why? I asked, Prateek goes to school, I go to school and all good boy and good girls go to school. Do

you not want to be a good girl?

Pari couldnt afford not to be a good girl. Finally, she agreed for her school although she didnt openly

declare.

Pariii, here is two candies for you, for your first day in school, Madhu sang a song from kitchen,couldnt quite poemize the words though. She brought two candies, one in each hand, both of different

colours. Prateek and I clapped in appreciation.

Miss Paridhi Mehra ran to catch the candies and her Mickey Mouse bag danced on her back. Madhu

garlanded Miss Paridhi with her official water bottle, which was also of Mickey Mouse print. Then she was

presented two candies with a brief kiss which had punctured her puffed out cheek.

Miss Paridhi Mehra turned about and walked to school as fast as she could. Her shoes clapped with the

floor as she picked speed, like she would fly and land right in her school. But, but a penguin cant fly.

Unfortunately, her shoelace of one shoe came under another shoe and she fell on the floor with a thump.

Ouch! three of us exclaimed in unison.

She stood up as quickly as possible and looked around. Both the candies lay on the floor in pieces, she

burst into a cry, slow at first but with increasing volume, perhaps more for the candies than physical hurt.

Dont cry, dont cry, I dusted her clothes, look, how many ants you have killed?

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Pari calmed down and looked at the floor, not a single ant was dead. They were enjoying her candies

instead, which made her cry even harder, so hard that her scream completely vanished. Eyes took some

time to brim with tears.

Well, that day after all that tantrum, Miss Paridhi Mehra didnt agree to start her journey through Indian

education, even after offering ten candies, which was a way better offer than the one I got from BAL

Niketan, but that bribe met with a flat rejection. I and Prateek departed for school on scooter.

***

I signed my attendance in staffroom and then joined the prayers in the ground. Students were sitting in

well arranged rows. All teachers were standing on their feet. They had a common prayer position arms

folded across their chest and bodyweight on one leg. I joined them and joined their pose.

Students prayed to god to give them the strength that they never could be discouraged or dishonest,

that a lot of darkness was in their ways and they prayed god to give them light and justice. The tone of

harmonium and tabla complemented the lyrics and its melody.

Prayer ended soon. Prayer leader girls and instruments player boys stepped down from stage in

opposite directions to join their respective rows.

Parmeshwary Ahuja, director of BN School, appeared on the stage, Good morning, she said on the

mike. Her big dark red circular bindi was visible even from a distance, a lady with her own aura.

A collective voice of ground crowd wished her back. Then again silence spread in the ground. It was

the first address of director to school in that session.

Dear students and teachers, she said, new session has started off well. I hope you all will be doing

well.

Loud speaker started whistling, PTI ran down to take care.

Seventeen days has passed away, she restarted her speech with same pitch of her voice, now we

have to be serious with our studies. Some hard work is always compulsory in life and the time is right now.

Be regular in school, be regular at home. Its time to start working in full swing, she said and turned to

Principal Tilak Acharya who was posing an attention beside her. He whispered something to her.

We lack one chemistry teacher and a physics teacher for science classes. Interviews are being taken

and I assure you, you will get them soon, very soon. Apart from this, any other problem? she scanned the

rows, in case of any problem, tell us or drop it in suggestion box. Every suggestion and every issue of

yours will be entertained. You can leave for your class now. Thank you.

***

Pankaj ji, your Prateek has broken my window? our neighbor Mrs Soni cam e running to our home.

She showed me a few pieces of broken glass as evidence.

Oh, how?He threw a ball into it, she said, and I tell you this is not the first time. Earlier also he has done this

damage to us.

Mrs Soni glared at me as if I was the guilty. I felt itd be difficult to calm her down. I called out Prateek.

Where is Prateek? Prateek!

Prateek came behind Mrs Soni.

What happened? Madhu came out rubbing her eyes. Mrs Soni registered her complaint to Madhu.

Hes broken ours also. Naught boy, where is he? Madhu said, having a fake serious look.

I concentrated on my food. Madhu dealt with Mrs Soni. After mouthful of illustrations she returned

murmuring that they had been damaged for five hundred rupees because of the son of mine.

Prateek came in after Mrs Soni had left. Madhu hugged her and then pecked him on his plump cheek

and then asked proudly as if he had won man of the match award, you broke their window?

Prateek didnt respond. He hung his head.

Did she beat you up? Madhu suspected on Mrs Soni.

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Prateek shook his head.

Dont go there, I told you earlier. She is not a good person. She will slap you one day.

I ate in silence.

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D

Prateek was looking at his plunge pool, affectionately as if he owned it. Pool had a little water covering

proportionally large area. He checked out his paper boat for final time before sailing into the ocean. Pool

had mirrored a lot of thingsthe sky with mobile slaty clouds, the sun, roadside tree, Prateek himself and

of course Mrs Sonis broken windowpane.Prateek was still too lost in manufacturing process of the boat. Suddenly, a water drop plopped into his

pool and it lost all its imagery. And then another drop, probably some flying cloud wanted to enrich his

pool. He left his ship in it and it sailed across it intelligently. The pool caught rhythm as rain increased.

Prateek, I called out, Prateek was going to load the ship with some goods but then stopped midway.

Do you know, how do clouds come up with the rain? I asked.

The ship toppled with a quick blow of wind and an eraser it was carrying, drowned into the pool.

Prateek stared at her mission being failed and then shook his head to me.

***

We created a small universe in Prateeks room. A candle as the sun and his tennis ball as the earth, all

other planets and stars and galaxies were not there. Whatever they were, Prateek and I didnt care. Our

topology contained only sun and the earth. I scribbled the map of only one nation on the ball, say the earth.

That nation was our India.

He drew a wooden stool in completely dark room. We had switched off lights and bolted the door. I lit

the candle on stool, sunrise happened in our small universe.

The earth rested on my finger tip. I rotated it on my finger tip.

Universe is like this room and sun is like this candle, I began my illustration, and I am going to show

you how sunrise and sunset happen on the earth.

Prateek looked comfortable and curious with the first set of my words. His bubble like eyes twinkled in

candle light as he looked at me.

Look at the earth, I said, now sunrise has happened in India.

I moved the earth around the sun, walking on my knees. Prateek shifted and watched the fascination

the earth rotating on my finger tip and moving around the sun in our finite universe. I made sure Prateek

notice every sunrise and sunset in India.

For a while I stopped earth to draw one more map on it USA and then earth started again.

Prateek, whats the time in India now? I questioned.

He looked at the ball, say at the earth. The earth stopped moving and rotating until he guessed the

answer.

Afternoon, he answered.Prateek was too quick to pick. It was a satisfaction to my teachings. Good, I said.

We finished the first round around the sun in less than five minutes.

This is equal to one year, I was sure he would understand what I meant. One year was less than five

minutes, wow. Our universe was as fascinating to me as to Prateek.

Our earth completed a few more rounds around the sun in its dark universe. Every round told

something great to us. The sun lit and lit and lost its height. We had understood enough in a little time.

So, this is it, I said.

We destructed our universe, switched on the room lights and opened Prateeks geography bo ok. I

explained Prateek the two motions of the earth, concept of day and night as it was given in the book.

Candle kept burning and losing its height.

I gave an exercise to Prateek to do in the end and came out of his room. Afternoon had grown hotter,

sky was clouded. I surveyed and survived unsurvivable outdoor for less than five minutes and then sat in

living room thinking what would be next illustration for Prateek.

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Drizzle started and accelerated constantly. For next twenty minutes until I couldnt figu re out next

illustration for Prateek, the rain had filled Jodhpur streets and roads. The environment had turned shivering

all of sudden.

Prateek, I called out from living room, leave that exercise for tomorrow. We are going out in rain.

We took an umbrella and ventured out into the storm. There I had found my next illustration for

Prateek, we are going to see and know about rivers and waterfalls. We squelched through the Ratanada

streets in gurgling streams under one umbrella. The sky roared with a terrifying thunderclap. Umbrellafailed to do its job against the sky raining at an oblique angle.

***

There are three languages we speak, Prateek explained to Pari, pure Hindi, impure Hindi and

English. We dontspeak pure Hindi, we speak impure Hindi.

Prateek was in sixth class then, three year senior to Pari. Pari listened to Prateek.

What is pure Hindi? Pari asked Prateek.

That is tough, but I will tell you, Prateek said and took out his Hindi notebook fr om his bag and

flipped the pages, Ok listen.Apna Grihkarya Yathasheeghra Poorna Karenthis is pure Hindi.

Pari mouth fell open. Prateek was boring. Lets play cap verses, she said. Prateek was less boring

while playing.

Tell me, what is it called cap verses in pure Hindi? Prateek asked.

I dont know, Pari tried to avoid, lets play.

Ok. Lets start with names of places on the earth.

Jodhpur, Pari said.

Rajasthan, Prateek said.

Pari tried to think of a place which started with letter N. Prateek waited.

Either tell or pass, Prateek said.

Pari had to give up, pass, she said.

New Zealand, Prateek spoke out loudly and then challenged Pari once again, D?

Pari couldnt think of a place which started with D or rather she couldnt think of any other place. She

had to pass it to Prateek once again.

Ok, I will give you a hint. Capital of Bangladesh, Prateek said, where a one day match was played

today between India and Bangladesh and Ganguly scored a hundred.

Still, Pari gave up. And she gave up with playing any more.

One second, Prateek stood up quickly, Pari, go that side.

A cricket had entered our room on a flight from outdoor. It landed on Prateeks head. He didnt like it.

He ran to catch it but it flew away. Prateek took his notebook and chased it up. It was flying in his hitting

area now. He took it on a pull shot. It took the edge of his notebook and came to me.Dad, catch it, Prateek appealed.

Before I could prepare myself and see the cricket, it hit right into my left eye. I covered my eye with

hand. Prateek kept running to me, player had dropped the catch and injured himself. The dead cricket fell

on the floor.

Im sorry, Prateek said, looking at me pressing my eye.

Its OK, I said. Prateek held my eye open and blew on it .

It was a nasty smell around.

Ok ok enough, I said, do you know what this smell is around?

No, Prateek said flatly. Prateek knows nothing.

It has been left by this cricket. When in danger, some insects leave a particular kind of smell sothat

their cousins can get an alert about the danger, I explained.

Really? They are intelligent, Prateek looked amazed.

Yes, we will study about it in next chapter of your science book.

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Prateek nodded and then ran away. He still had to annoy Pari. May god give some wisdom to Pari!

Ok now question-question, and first turn, I give it to you? Prateek said.

Pari repeated the same question she always used to do or her rather favorite question, which is that

Nana,we can eat?

Banana, Prateek said.

Now your turn, Pari said.

Tell me the name of Indian desert.Pari was going to lose second time.

Indian desert, not any foreigner like Sahara is also a desert, Prateek clarified like reminding himself.

He waited for the answer despite knowing that Pari wouldnt answer, such a patient boy.

Thar desert, Madhu interrupted.

Prateek rolled his eyeballs, thats not fair mom.

Sorry, sorry, Madhu said doing a hands up.

Question is cancelled, I will ask another question Prateek declared, umm which is that headlight ,

everyone has but everyone does not use?

It was another unanswerable question. Whenever Prateek opened his mouth, there would be another

unanswerable question for Pari. When she didnt know answer, all she did would be keeping quiet and

staring at Prateek unblinkingly.

Mom, you also can answer my question, Prateek came out to be strong.

Madhu put a finger on her cheek and thought. When she couldnt have a right answer she said, I dont

have time for your stupid question, and walked out of the room.

Headlight of our mind, Prateek answered his own question, our principal sir says that everybody has

a headlight in his mind but some use it and some dont.

That was some philosophy from Prateek and his principal sir!

You lose I win, Prateek announced again.

Pari didnt seem like minding losing or winning. I think he really bored her sometimes.

Come, eat first and then keep playing, Madhu called out from kitchen.

We all gathered around dining table. Madhu brought out all the bowls from kitchen. Steam filled the

room.

Wow, rasgullas, Prateek exclaimed, he had a sweet tooth.

Yes. Have you washed your hands? Madhu glared at him.

Prateek stood up and ran away so that rasgullas cant get the time to turn stale. Pari followed him.

This woman is just a jerk, Madhu said.

What? I said, totally out of context.

Our neighbor, Mrs Soni, Madhu gave me a dirty look as if I was Mrs Soni, every day she comes with a

complaint.Madhu, Prateek broke their windowpane, I retorted weakly.

How can she know that? There are so many other kids around, she went berserk on me.

Point.

Even if he has, whats point in going mad? He is just a child, Madhu said, they have glasses in

windows only to sulk my son.

Correct, I said, they should not have glasses in their windows.

Kids returned after washing their hands, Madhu served them food. She cupped her face in her hands,

forgot Mrs Soni and kept watching them eating.

There were five rasgullas left when Prateek and Pari finished their dinner.

Two and half each, Madhu said.

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Sunday morning. Even at 8 am, Jodhpur was pretty hot. Prateek had started his studies when I was

trying to remember where my toothbrush would be. I went to his room, just to check on him, brushing my

teeth. He was doing his handwriting assignment given by me, in special four line notebook.

Honesty is the best policy.Honesty is the best policy.

Hon..

I stood in front of his table. Noticing my entry he became extra concentrated on his notebook. I hated it

when he would fake himself before me. For more than two minutes he didnt look up at me. Then I slapped

his table and snapped my fingers before his eyes. He looked confused. Toothbrush became still in my

mouth. I gestured him quizzically, Prateek had no response.

I took his thirty centimeter long plastic scale and he extended his palm. I struck that scale onto his

palm and then another palm. Prateek bore the punishment but scale didnt, over second time, scale broke

into two pieces. One part of it fell on the floor and shattered into more pieces and another twenty

centimeter part of it remained in my hand. I snapped my finger again, ignoring all other things which

existed there or had happened.

Remaining colour of Prateeks face faded away as he knew his fault, Date, he said to me.

I shook my head gesturing that I hadnt heard what hed said.

I didnt put date on the page, he said, swallowing his spit.

I threw twenty centimeter scale at his notebook as he sat down to put the date on the page. He pressed

his pencil with too much force against the page that graphite point broke on the spot. I looked at him. He

was pointless with his pointless pencil. He hunted into his bag for pencil sharpener. Sundays were good

unless you were Prateek Mehra.

I came out of his study room.

I was at bathroom door with soap, bucket and my clothes when Prateek presented his workbook with

completed assignment. That day his pencilled letters were more beautiful. He had made sophisticated

curves and perfect straight lines in small case English alphabet. I ticked his work and wrote very good on

the bottom of the page.

Now go, I said, mamma is waiting. Have your breakfast.

I handed him his workbook. He ran away. My hand patted his shoulder in air. I felt like kissing him and

loving him some more just for those few lines.

***

7:30 in the evening. I switched on TV in living room for one hour long news bulletin of IBC. I called outPrateek. He put away his ball and bat and came in. Madhu didnt like news. She would always get busy in

kitchen when I and Prateek would watch the news.

This is IBC New Delhi, on medium wave nine hundred eighty seven kilo hertz, the line burst out

fluently. Musical tones followed first line. TV screen showed a moving globe.

Speakers sophisticated voice, well calculated and well chosen words with brief coverage and clarity

thats why I liked IBC news more than any other news. And thats why I made Prateek to listen and watch

with me.

I am Rupa Jha, a female news reader said.

And I am Prabodh Vajpeyee, her co-reader said, Come, lets glance at todays main headlines of the

world.

Rupa Jha and Prabodh Vajpeyee took us through the headlines and then detailed reports on them,

small interviews, scenes where something had happened. Both of us listened in silence.

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Sbarro restaurant in Jerusalem is attacked by a Palestinian Terrorist. According to the reports 15

civilians were killed and 130were wounded, Rupa Jha said, TV screen displayed blast footage behind her,

lets connect with IBC reporter FarhanAhmad at Jerusalem. Hello Farhan how is the situation there? Rupa

Jha asked.

Hello Farhan, can you hear us? asked Rupa Jha, again.

We waited for Farhan to speak.

Oh no! Madhu screamed in kitchen.Before Farhan could tell us further story, power had gone from our home and from our street. Darkness

filled in living room.

I ran to kitchen.

What are you doing? Madhu said, as her torch went dark. I had taken its dry cell batteries out.

I am cooking, can you see that, Madhu screamed once again, louder than earlier, at me.

Please, please, I requested hastily, power will come back in seconds, IBC news wont. and came out

of kitchen. Madhu would have given me a dirty look in darkness.

Thankfully I found my radio. I put cells into it and adjusted its frequency. Five minutes had passed and

we couldnt hear detailed report of Farhan Ahmad.

Madhu had came out of kitchen and then into living room. She had lit three match-sticks on the way to

living room and then three more to search the candle packet. She lit a candle on TV stand and then left

again to kitchen. I and Prateek thanked her. Vague voices of male and female newsreaders filled the room.

I looked at Prateek. His face glistened in dim candle-light.

IBC news summarized all the happenings of the day security status change in J & K, a report on G8

summit that had happened in previous week in Genoa, a report on 56 years of bomb-blast in Japans

Hiroshima and Nagasaki, flood conditions in Assam due to heavy rain and overflowing of Brahmaputra and

a match fixing scam.

What happened in Genoa? and this was me, asking Prateek.

Prateek kept quiet.

Who is president of United states?

Prateek kept quiet. And that was ridiculous of Prateek. I lost my cool.

Where are you? Did you listen to anything that was said in news? I frowned.

Prateek didnt speak. I leaned forward to look at him. There was no move in Prateeks body. Melted

wax rolled down the candle like a tear, its flame trembled in air as I spoke out.

Look at me, I said, what are you thinking about?

Prateek sensed anger in my voice. He didnt like it, yet he couldnt avoid me. He had little choice. He

chose to answer my question; however he didnt know what that was. He was not like finding an

appropriate excuse.

I was looking at the candle, Prateek said, keeping his voice to the minimum decibel level.Did you listen to what have I asked? I asked what you were thinking about.

I waited for him to respond in vain.

Next time come only if you pay attention otherwise there is no use. Did you hear that?

And Prateek was like tongue less. He surrendered silently. He had forgotten everything in a few

moments.

Get out, I said. I really had said that.

Prateek stood up after two seconds and slowly walked out of living room.

As soon as Prateek stepped out of room, power came back. Tube-light sparked, ceiling fan moved and

candle was put out like it was a programmed task of a machine. I was cool again in that radiance. I scolded

myself. I switched off the television.

I went in search of Prateek who was not there in living room with me anymore.

***

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I tried hard to sleep, yet something in me or probably in my heart didnt let me. I turned around

several times on my bed like feeling hot. Water in water cooler was felt like on its boiling point.

What happened you havent slept yet? Madhu asked me.

You too?

I had slept enough in afternoon, she said, facing opposite wall. She hadnt moved a bit since last

fifteen minutes.

I kept quiet.What happened? she said.

What?

With Prateek?

He doesnt pay attention to news. You know how important that is for him, I said, like explaining to

Prateek himself, so many things they told you in news. If you listen carefully, your knowledge increases.

However, unlike always Madhu hadnt asked me all that. Didnt know why but I terribly wanted to talk.

Probably a feeling of guilt had entered my heart.

I am not scolding him every day. Once he starts paying attention, he will automatically take interest in

it, I said.

Madhu didnt say anything. She lay next with her back to me. I slid close to her.

I want to shape his studies to be well planned and well targeted. Our director also suggests that

education should be creative and meaningful. Sometimes I have to be strict with Prateek to show him the

right path, I said and stroked her hair, but take care of him when he is upset. Try to make him happy. You

know Madhu I always think that he will have much better future than us. We couldnt have a big beginning

of our lives, but he will. He surely will. You can see he has the makings of a big man.

Madhu neither responded nor moved. What a wife I had who used to listen to her husband with that

much attention!

Wont you say something? I cuddled her.

She slowly turned around with close eyes. She was asleep, yet she hugged me back. I sat up on the

bed. Madhu had missed my every word that was more important than even IBC news. She was worse than

Prateek on listening. I smiled at myself, alone in the deep of the night.

I got up to check on kids. Pari was sleeping with her cuddly teddy bear. Prateek was straight on his

back like a genius man. He had a ball-point pen in his front pocket which I had bought him that afternoon. I

sat on her bed for a while and stroked his forehead gently. I tried to take the pen out smoothly but then he

sensed it and tugged at his pocket, still asleep. I let him be.

Then I went to bathroom to wash my face and then came back to try once again to fall asleep, but there

were too many stories happening in my mind.

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F

Bulldozer hit the door and it fell open. Prateek chased the bulldozer, lifted it, wound it and then left it

back on floor. Bulldozer started moving, accelerated and went out of room. It hit a plastic chair in the way

before reaching in courtyard. Prateek chased it again.

What are you doing? I asked.Prateek stared at me with a white bulldozer in hands.

Have you done your homework?

Prateek nodded.

Show me.

I took the chair and sat down on it in our courtyard. Prateek came back running after two minutes. He

extended his maths notebook towards me.

Open it up and then give me, I said.

Prateek opened it up, flipped the pages and then handed over me. I checked his notebook and he

looked at his white bulldozer. He had put the date on the top and then solved question below.

This is not complete work, where are rest of the questions?

He looked at the bulldozer.

Prateek, I screamed, I am talking to you. Where are rests of the question?

I havent done.

You havent done?Why?

Prateek kept quiet.

What did you do all day? I asked, What? You played all day?

Prateek kept quiet and it made me more furious. I threw his notebook in the air. It shuffled in the air

flapping like a pigeon and landed at a distance. Prateeks gaze followed its sound and trajectory.

Give me your bulldozer, I said.

Prateek went to fetch his bulldozer. He handed me it like his maths notebook.

Bring that brick, I ordered, putting his bulldozer in front of me on the ground.

Prateek went to fetch that cement-brick. He lifted the brick. It must be too heavy. Prateek lifted it in his

lap and staggered towards me. His face turned red and then redder with every step. He released it a few

feet away from my chair. He puffed out his cheeks.

Lift it again, I said.

Prateek bent down to lift it again. A few sweat drops fell on the brick from his forehead and Prateek

lifted it again. He looked at me. He looked tired and red.

Dump it on the bulldozer, I ordered.

Till then Prateek had followed my instructions like a robot. He hesitated on my last words. His eyeswere opposing and he held the heavy cement brick diligently. He looked at me with open dislike.

Hmm, I raised my eyebrow. I gestured him to go ahead.

Prateek lifted his left foot and grounded and then right foot. He stood over the bulldozer parked

between his two legs and then released the break. The gravitation worked. Brick travelled vertically

downwards and hit the roof of the bulldozer. With an audible crunch sound, Prateeks white bulldozer died

on the spot. It shattered into pieces. Tires, windows, a LED light and seats everything had turned into

rubbish when I removed the cement brick to have a look. It was an accident designed by me.

***

I and Prateek were sitting on the same and only sofa in our living room, watching IBC news on TV.

Madhu was standing behind us.

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Oh my god, Madhus mouth fell open when she watched the television screen. The silence fell into my

years. Madhu came and sat down on sofa with me and Prateek, probably first time for the news. All eyes

dilated with shock.

A short video clip was displayed on the TV screen once again. An airplane flew and flew and then hit

the building. Fire and smoke blasted out. We kept quiet and watched. Once again another airplane was

shown in the air and then hitting into another building. It was nine eleven, the day when terrorists attacked

on World Trade Center and Pentagon with two hijacked planes in USA.That day IBC did detailed report on terrorist attack in USA. It took most of the time of one hour news

bulletinnumbers of killed people, the suspense about the people behind it and details of the twin tower.

According to IBC news, in India and in most of the countries, high alert was declared. They expected that

more attacks could happen in various parts of the world. It felt like the world had started ending, however

the attack had happened in USA.

The attack had taken all the headlines. Major countries were shown condemning the terrorist activity.

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Prateek progressed too quickly under my guidance. He passed every class with first rank in his school.

Everything was well shaped about Prateek he became regular in life unlike other kids of our colony. He

had a timetable and more than that he had a good student life. Every time he would bring his progress card

to me. I would analyze it and say two wordsvery good.Forget about what you have achieved; see where the mistakes took place. You have earned eighty

seven point four seven percentages, means you still have made mistakes to lose twelve point five three

percentages, I would calculate and say to Prateek. Prateek would listen to me quietly. Make sure next time

same mistakes dont repeat, I would add further.

I became twenty four hour teacher. And I had a great going at it. I won the best teacher title in my

school in the very first year of my profession. And I maintained it over the years and also my salary

mounted up proportionally. Nobody better than me came to staff room. Soon, my physics became famous in

the area. Some parents approached me for private tuitions of their kids but I couldnt do that as I was busy

with my own child, Prateek. Yet, I took classes on weekends under the banner of my own tuition center

PM Physics. Madhu complemented me with MM Chemistry. Students liked her more than me, somehow she

helped me settle the things, minimize the boredom and engaged more students than me.

Prateek was introduced to Newtons and pis world. He came in and conquered. His brilliance was

preview of his great future.

My own life, its purpose and my family progressed with the pace.

A few years passed away this way.

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Part Two

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Sometimes you became so happy that you forget to express it. And I was much more than this when I

click on the mouse button to find Prateeks JEE results. I would probably have jumped on my feet and got

out of room breaking its roof or punched the air to drive a storm; as I saw the screen. Prateek had cracked

JEE scoring 27th all India rank and it was not a dream.Madhu came to me and I didnt remember what we talked but we cheered like never before with

resounding cries. It was probably happiest news in my life. I had dreamt of it every day since last two years

and that had happened to me.

Even if Prateek had told us not to tell the news to him but I couldnt wait for the time. He was out of town

for another exam. I called him right then.

Guess what? Madhu asked with almost overflowing joy when Prateek picked up.

Prateek kept quiet on the other end.

Twenty seventh rank my son twenty seventh, and Iam not kidding, she said.

Really?

Yes.

***

Blue, violet and red light filled Prateeks room. A big cake was placed on his study table. A soft music

mixed with our chuckles. It was Prateeks success bash. We didnt have so many guests. Some of my

colleagues had come, some women from our neighborhood and some Prateeks schoolmates, thirty of

them. From Jaipur my mother-in-law had come.

.

Prateek cut the cake and everybody clapped. Flowers and gifts were showered on Prateek. He

accepted them with obvious relish. My mother-in-law had brought a gift for Prateek. Prateek opened it up

and it was a pretty expensive mobile phone. It had a good camera too. It was inaugurated right then. One of

Prateeks friends clicked some picture of Prateek with guest and gifts and with cake in his mouth and on his

black shirt. He was forced to smile every time when a new picture was clicked.

Madhu pulled me close to have a picture with my mother-in-law otherwise I was not so affectionate

with my mother-in-law. And it was the first picture of its kind, just three of us. In supplementary ceremony

of our marriage, I mean mine and Madhus, photographer was not even hired. Nobody remembered and

nobody felt that there was a need.

My mother-in-law, then, gracefully stood up for a speech. Although she had an eighteen year old

grandson, she was fit enough to stand up on her own. She shut them all up by raising her right hand and

struck a flamboyant pose on the stage. She had a speech. First, she brought the most expensive gift amongall of them and second, she was the granny so she deserved to be listened. I felt terrible waiting for her

words. It was only me who was tensed to look after other arrangements.

Dear all, her euphoric voice echoed in the room, today my son had made it. I am so happy for him.

She turned to stroke his cheek and smiled broadly to show up her gold filling which glittered in low

light as proudly as her. She continued, when Prateek was little, since then I was sure that he would be a big

man. And today he has really proved me right

I walked out of room. I had more work then listening to my mother-in-law. I had to check dinner

arrangement. I went to our courtyard. Suncity Sweetshad taken the order for dinner. Most of the item they

had brought readymade from their restaurant. They made kheer, puris, almond milk and some subjis in our

kitchen. I made sure that the arrangement and manner were good as it was a non-alcoholic family treat.

I returned to Prateeks room again. Thankfully my mother-in-lows speech had completed. I invited

them for dinner.

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People ate in order to their emergencies. All four of my colleagues left early after dinner. Prateek and

his tens of friends didnt eat with us; they carried their food back in that room and ate. Most of our

neighbors so called Madhus friends also ate and left. By eleven pm at night everybody had left, even

Prateeks friends and men from Suncity Sweets.

There were five of us including my mother-in-law. She looked much older then. Shiny skin hanging

from her wrists, cheeks, under her chin. Thick glasses rested on nose. She sat with Prateek and Pari in her

arms on sofa in living room, sharing some jokes or maybe some fantasy story.I am so tired, Madhu told me, among rambling kitchen utensils.

***

A white car stopped in front of our home in early Sunday morning when I was searching for something

useful to read in newspaper. Two strangers knocked on our main gate.

Please come in, I said, putting my newspaper away.

We shook hands and sat down on plastic chairs.

Mr. Mehra, we are from Gyan Bharti Public School, one of them who had worn check shirt and black

pants and looked younger, said.

I nodded.

He is Mr. Arun Kant, director of our school. Subhas Kotlana gestured at his director. Then I shook his

hand for second time. Director had worn a long grey Achkan with stiff white pajamas and a supercilious

smile, a semi-politician look.

And I am Subhas Kotlana, principal of Gyan Bharti, he said and tugged at his shirt.

Subhas ji told me yesterday your son has cracked IITJEE. It is a great honor to Jodhpur and all of us.

Many many congratulation, what a brilliant boy! director said and showed his genuine surprise. Principal

joined him.

Its a milestone sir, especially for Jodhpurs students, Subhas Kotlana summarized.

Oh, thank you so much, I said proudly.

Madhu served us tea and breakfast but they declined.

The person who was principal took out a little box from his put it on plastic table between us. It was a

sweet box from Suncity Sweets, for Prateek and his achievement.

Arrey, what was the need of it, I became formal.

They smiled in reflex.

So Mr. Mehra, you must have heard about our school Gyan Bharti. It is the most rising school of this

Ratanada. We have approved this year for higher classes, director said.

I said hmm and nodded.

Gyan Bharti came in way to Bal Niketan. And it was a new but rising quickly, true. In three years they

had got the license for classes up to twelfth. Yet, I had never been to Gyan Bharti. Once Tilak Acharya hadmurmured to me that Gyan Bharti was pushing them back and I didnt understand what he had meant.

We want you to work with us, skipped his line on ongoing conversation.

Huh? I couldnt go well on my words. So they came to get me from Bal Niketan, I thought what I had

been suspecting since last ten minutes.

What do you say? principal of Gyan Bharti asked me.

How can I cheat on Bal Niketan? I said.

We will pay you more than them, principal said, and Mr. Mehra dont panic yourself. Its all

profession.

Do you have any contract with Bal Niketan? director asked.

No but

Then join us. New session has just started. Everybody is looking for his own well, everybody, whether

it is Bal Niketan or us. Bal Niketan is paying you fifteen; it will be sixteen from us, principal said and looked

at his director. Director looked at me and nodded.

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I was surprised that they knew how much BAL Niketan paid me.

I think I should think about it, I said, finding no argument to put back on them.

What?

I mean you are paying me more but I had taught in BAL Niketan for seven consecutive years. I have

started taking classes this year. Every student knows me and believes I will teach them for whole year, how

can I turn my back on them all of sudden? I said, that was what I could really think when I thought of

leaving my school.Mr. Mehra its your professional life and students are same everywhere. You are good teacher, you

should be in a good school, the director said.

Lets be with seventeen, principal said, final?

I didnt expect that. I didnt respond.

One part of me had already accepted the offer. Another was still with BAL-Niketans boys. I felt bad for

thinking of suddenly leaving them.

Principal and director had stood up to leave. I walked them out of my home.

Take your time Mr. Mehra; we will get in touch with you later on.

The white car turned around, drove off and disappeared.

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I

First thought which clicked in my mind about Gyan Bharti was, it was better than BAL Niketan, in looks.

Mammoth five storey building had dwarfed most of the neighborhood. BAL Niketan felt a squat ugly

building to me. I climbed up more than ten marble steps and then reached in receptionists area. I saw a

good-looking girl behind long wooden desk with an ingratiating smile, first person of Gyan Bharti tointeract with people. That is how Gyan Bharti made a few noticeable differences. BAL Niketan didnt even

have a receptionist. On left and right hands there were three glass cabins or say offices for Principal,

director and hostel warden.

I saw Subhas Kotlana sitting behind a desktop in his office. He came out when he saw me. I followed

him to his office. His office was painted in cream colour; two giant cupboards in two corners, some files lay

on his table. Not so big not so tiny type room. Throughout the prayer he explained me my job, my classes

and the rules I had to follow as Tilak Acharya had told seven years ago.

I was out when prayers were ended. Subhas Kotlana gave me a chit. It was my timetable. Then I went

to take my first class in Gyan Bharti.

***

When is your train?

It is at 20:30.

Confirmed?

Yes.

Prateek had been accepted at IIT Kharagpur. He was given enrollment in Mechanical Engineering.

Madhu was going with him. I didnt because I had classes and I didnt let Dia go because she also had her

classes. Madhu and Prateek were leaving by Jodhpur-Howrah superfast that day. Madhu and Prateek were

busy in packing. I was given the task of cutting tomatoes.

Check out all your belongings, I said.

Prateek took out a paper from his pocket and read out, offer letter?

Madhu opened up Prateeks document-file and said, yes.

Admit card?

Yes.

Medical certificate?

Yes.

DD?

They checked out everything they had to carry with them while I cut tomatoes took peas out of peas

pods.IIT had sent two pages instructing us how to go there and what things to carry with and about the

arrival, transportation, registration procedure and everything that mattered. They had asked to arrive in

time. Prateek and Madhu were reaching there one day before registration.

That day we did team work in cooking. Pari, Madhu, Prateek and me all four of us entered our tiny

kitchen. Madhu instructed us around and cooked all mouth-wateringbhindi masala, dal halwa, kadhi and

boondi raitaall Prateeks favorite. Even the aroma was edible.

So all things set? I asked probably for the tenth time that day.

Yes dad, Prateek said and threw his bag in auto-rickshaw.

Madhu locked our home and handed keys to me. I followed auto rickshaw on my scooter as it drove

away. We reached at platform thirty minutes in advance of trains scheduled time.

I looked at Prateek. He never looked that much handsome before. He was wearing a check shirt and

blue jeans. He had a serious expression on face. I walked up to him as the Howrah train drew into the

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station. We climbed into our first-AC coach. I had been in first AC coach first time in my life. I had booked

first class AC tickets for first departure of Prateek.

We sat down on berths. Madhu told me not to be lazy and take meal time to time. I couldnt respond.

She told me to lock up the home whenever I was out.

It was 20:30 on finally. Train blew a long horn. It was about to leave. I stood up to get down.

Take care throughout the journey, I said as Madhu hugged me, and keep calling me.

Prateek came to me leaning down before me. He did so for the first time ever. I dont know whodtaught that to him. I grabbed his head and kissed him on his clean shaved cheek.

All the best, I said.

Train had started moving. I got down.

***

Teachers life is one of the most monotonous lives in the world I am telling you. He goes to same school

every day, meets same people and teaches same stuff over the years. When you happen to be in Gyan

Bharti, you feel it much more.

There was no days and fest celebration in school. There were no long speeches in prayer meet. There

were no prayers like BAL Niketan. After a few days, there was end of prayers for senior teachers and senior

students. We began to run tests and quizzes in prayers time for board classes, tenth and twelfth, student.

While others would pass their time in prayers, have more jokes and pleasantries in class than us. This was

Subhas Kotlanas strategy. Board classes were important for school. Only their performance told schools

image, and Gyan Bharti had succeeded to maintain a noticeable track record.

One day after school I asked Kotlana, Dont people object about our laziness towards other non -

board-class-students?

Kotlana patted his table and said, absolutely not. You know what, six or seven years ago when I was in

eleventh class my father would often say, Kotlana stoodup and pointed at me, you can go too loose this

year but I want solid percentages next year, and he sit down again. So like my father all Indian parents

dont bother about non-board classs result. Its a socio-psychological disorder.

I nodded. Kotlana really knew the situation.

Because they pay us so its our duty teach them whole material, arrange examination and give away a

formal report card. But it is no branded performance at all, Kotlana said, looking sideways.

That was only a fraction of Kotlana. He was young. He was a practical person. He was shrewd. He was a

good manager. Kotlana was the reason why Gyan Bharti progressed. When Arun Kant would come to

school for an inspection, Kotlana would led him to show his excellence of work, beauty of management and

heights of progress. He was loyal to his duties and his school.

Director Arun Kant was a lost person. His office with a glass door would mostly remain empty. I often

saw Kishan sweeping his table, telephones, paperweight and glass door. Kishan was senior peon of GyanBharti. Yes, there were senior and junior peons. Kishan had been working in Gyan Bharti since its first day.

He was dear to both Kotlana and Arun Kant because he was so loyal and hardworking. Sometimes he would

climb up a bamboo ladder up to fourth storey of the monstrous school building just to remove pigeon-nests

from windows. Arun Kant, the director himself put his arm around Kishans broad shoulders to give him a

patronizing hug. In his absence, Kotlana the principal himself would do that.

I had never worked with such people. BAL Niketan didnt have all this and that was why they lost

against Gyan Bharti. Gyan Bharti stole their good teachers and even some students who mattered. When I

and maths teacher Samir Ahmad left BAL Niketan, some students left it as well. Silly BAL Niketan couldnt

understand that. People would fall in love with Gyan Bharti at their first sight. The tide had turned in its

favour.

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J

I restlessly waited for one and half hour at platform number one of Jodhpur Railway Station. I had come

to receive my Madhu who was returning from IIT Kharagpur after one and half week. Ten days ago, I had

left Madhu, Prateek and Pari at the same platform in some coach of Jodhpur Howrah Super Fast for Prateeks

first departure for IIT.Last ten days had been very difficult for me to live alone in Jodhpur. Madhu had never been away from

me that long after our marriage. I talked to Madhu everyday for half an hour or more telling her to come

soon. Madhu was coming in the same train 2307 Howrah-Jodhpur Super Fast. The train was late by nearly

an hour and it made me wait for two complete hours to receive Madhu. I was the only person who ran to her

coach when train stopped at the platform with a long irritating whistle.

Madhu appeared on the gate, first to get off the train. Probably she knew the amount of restlessness in

my wait. I give her my hand and she came down on platform. I hugged her even though she seemed to be

resisting the same. I picked up the bags and stepped aside. I looked at the crowd.

Lets go, Madhu said.

Where is Dia? I asked.

She stayed back in Jaipur.

What? She has a school? I didnt realize it but I had said it too loud.

Some people around me looked at me like I was mad.

Dont shout, Madhu said, slowly.

I mean why did you leave Dia at Jaipur, she will miss her school, I whispered.

Madhu didnt respond. She picked one of the bags and walked. I followed her with another bag.

***

Madhu, I cant bunk school, I said, I am teacher. Three hundred students come every day to be

taught by me, you know.

Madhu shot me with a dirty look.

Only eight hours out of twenty four? I said.

That is something I dont like about you. You care for your school more than your wife? I am asking for

one bunk only. We havent been together for a whole day in years, she said, her voice turning heavier.

My student? I sighed as I surrendered. Are wives convincible, ever?

Believe me they all will have fun, she said.

Madhu held me tight in her arms until I said yes. I wondered what we would do all day. What actually a

married couple can do if both of them dont go for job, I had yet to learn. It troubled me bunking my

classes, even for single day. It was the first time I realized how dedicated I was to my students.Madhu kissed me and thanked god when I said yes. I calculated the possibilities of having fun on the

next day but Madhu told me the plan what we were going to do on my bunking day. She looked cheerful.

Now that, my son had made it to her target I need to have some rest. I looked at Madhu and I thought to date

her once again. We were not that old, I thought.

Night had silenced Jodhpur. As always, after all day in school I was tired. I looked at Madhus head

resting on my chest. I stroked her hair as she tightened her noose of hands around my stomach. My story

has a lot of nights, because it happens to be only night when I get some time to think about my life. All days

used to be hectic in equal amount.

What are you thinking? Madhu startled me.

How was IIT? I said.

It was fabulous. You should have come along with us, she said.

Really?

Yes. I missed you there a lot.

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I missed you too.

I closed my eyes and imagined IIT Kharagpur. I imagined Prateek walking in it. I fell asleep, dreams

led my imagination.

Next day, I dedicated my day to Madhu. We had a whole day being with each other. There was no

other world that day. We woke up together quite late in the morning. We brushed together. We took bath

together. We cooked food, together. We ate together. We watched TV together.

In the evening, we went to Kohinoor for third show ofKismat Konnection. We had dinner at Bhaa, arestaurant specialized in Rajasthani food. Madhu chose to wear a green colored chiffon sari with dark

flowers all over. She looked beautiful. She helped me choosing mine clothes.

We had never had a blissful day like that, full credit to Madhu. She had designed it like that. When we

reached home at ten at night, Prateek called from IIT Kharagpur.

My son, Madhu cried after she had talked to him, how far from us, our son has gone?

So feeling good? I asked Prateek, nineteen hundred kilometers away from us.

Yes, dad.

Take care of yourself. We are proud of you, I ended the call as I found it difficult to talk to him more.

Madhu walked into our bedroom as I followed her. She changed into pink nighty. I changed too. We

helped each other. She stood there like a pillar, bodyweight inclined on one leg and head tilted one side.

Face calm and eyes stuck on my chest its very appealing typical pose of her, like come on, I want to be

hugged.I lifted her and carried her to the bed. Tears rolled down her temples. I couldnt understand why,

most of the men cant, a peculiarly woman thing. Happiness or sadness, Madhu cries either way.

You have got some real fat, I tried to tease. It worked.

No, I havent, Madhu smiled and made her face despite tears. She looked super beautiful.

Yes, you have.

No, I havent, she retorted like a child.

I couldnt say it third time. I just stared at her face. There were like millions of things to be noticed and

praised. My eyes were stalled and there was no brain in me I think.

Sometimes you become romantic like real bollywood-type, she grinned as she avoided a straight kiss

from me.

What does that mean, anyway?I thought. A man in the middle of kissing cant really keep his ears on.

Night had passed quite a lot. Tired bodies huddled on the bed. Together. Those odd moments of life

when oldies like us feel like young again. Why doesnt life always come like this?

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K

Prateek was bouncing a cricket ball on his new bat. Shoes smeared with dust, clothes wet with sweat

and face looked tired with a beard, grown a little thicker than mine. He looked no handsome. He looked

exactly like a cricketer at the end of match.

Prateek, whats wrong. You are not coming with us?He shook his head. Cricket ball kept bouncing on his bat with a perfect rhythm.

You have to come with us, I insist, I said.

I have my friends birthday tonight, Prateek said, continuing with his bat-ball job.

That will be twelve at night, right? We will have come back by then.

He didnt respond. Ball started to bounce to higher heights. His eyes went up and down.

Prateek, I said, a little louder. Are you listening to me? You are coming with us, so get ready. Hurry

up, I said.

Prateek had a final shot on the ball and then grabbed it.

And please shave, I said and paused, OK, I help you shaving.

I will do it myself, he muttered and walked away.

I went to Madhu to check if she was ready. It is not easy to be a househusband and also deliver on the

invitations. I came to living room and switched on the TV for evening bulletin of IBC news. I could catch

only ending ten minutes of it.

Madhu and Prateek were still not ready. Why cant they be disciplined like me? Always late on

occasions.

Hurry up, my voice prolonged in the entire home.

Only two more minutes, Madhus reply came two minutes after my voice.

I set an alarm for half an hour and slept in the sofa in living room.

***

Kant, Kotlana and two-three more persons, all with big pink safas on their head, received us on the

entrance. They folded their hands and welcomed us. It was great to see Kotlana with folded hands. He

gentlemanly complained that I was late. Kant smiled through this. I kept an eye as Prateek shook hands with

a straight face.

It was tough to wait to get on food stalls. Still, we climbed up the big stage to congratulate wedding

couple.

I met my colleagues. We gossiped on school matters and our students. We tried to avoid Kotlana but

couldnt do for long. He came to meet to us or only to Prateek.

So, you are Mr IITian? Kotlana shook hand of Prateek.Prateek Mehra, Prateek said.

All of my colleagues and I stopped talking and gathered around them. Halogen light fell on us from a

distance.

I know, I know, Kotlana smiled broadly. How can I not know you? You are Jodhpurs brilliance.

Prateek smiled slyly.

So, what after IIT? Kotlana asked.

What after IIT what?

I mean what will you do after passing out from IIT? Kotlana elaborated himself, nodding her head with

eyebrows up.

Prateek folded his arms and just stared on that multiple-choice question.

You can join high class bureaucracy like IAS, you are brilliant. Kotlana said. You can do further

studies. Management is also a growing field nowadays. What you want to be?

I havent thought about it, he spoke and checked the time by his wrist-watch.

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Thats not a good thing, Kotlana continued, you should have decided by now. Now tell me,

something would be close to your hearts.

Ill make a film director in bollywood, Prateek said, destroying all dreams of Kotlana.

Kotlana looked surprised for a while and then he started laughing, unaware of his surroundings.

Whats funny? Prateek wasnt happy with his reaction.

Nothing, Kotlana said, laughing even harder. Im just wondering

Nice to meet you, Mr Kotlana, Prateek said, having an embarrassed smile. Ive my friends birthdaytoday, he said and turned to rest of us to wish a good night and then walked away.

Prateek, I called out, but he didnt listen to me.

My colleagues and Kotlana looked at Prateek going away.

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L

Now our todays honorable chief guest and former member of legislative assembly from Jodhpurs

Ratanada area, Shri Ram Ratan Doodi will shower us with his wit and knowledge, the host of the event, our

Hindi teacher announced. Doodi Saab, this way.

Doodi went that way and grabbed the mike from Hindi teacher. Before starting to speak, he signaledfor a glass of water.

I have returned from Britain three days ago. You can see my black hat, it is an English hat, bought

from London, Doodi took off his cowboy hat from his bald head and showed it to us. His thick neck had a

thick flower-garland. I am showing you the hat because I want you to know that I have been to Britain, he

paused and looked around for the response from crowd, us.

Perhaps none of us in the ground-crowd had been out of country and most of the people havent been

even out of Rajasthan. So they looked at Doodi as a celebrity or something like that.

Doodi suddenly changed the topic as nobody had clapped on his Britain tour. Indians were probably

too slow to catch his wit. He went further, I was always considered a weak student in my class when was in

school, I failed thrice in my tenth class. My guru is sitting in the guest row today. He might not remember

but I also scored ninety three percentages in my tenth class. Doodi took a few second to take a sip of

water.

But I didnt score it in just single year but in three years, Doodi claimed and paused for a while for his

joke to be noticed. I just didnt want to do everything in a hurry, he added.

Doodi was little fun but quite enough for a school event. Vast ground population clapped and laughed,

more to their frustration than the joke.

But jokes apart, dont be like me. You have gurus like Arun Kant. He is the greatest guide in India. You

have the best school a student can dream of, Doodi blew up the balloon. T hat was why he was there. He

was not a miser on choosing the words. Principal Kotlana gave him big hands and so did the students.

Doodi get off with a formal ending.

Hindi teacher praised Doodi for his time and sense of humor for following two minutes with words like

patriotic, kind, leader-of-Jodhpurites etc. Then he announced for next play A Kid in the KG in following

event consequences.

A Kid in the KG began and ended. Our English teacher also performed poetry. She claimed that it

was her own creation. A ninth class boy gave a speech in Sanskrit. His classmate gave it in English. Another

student came with a speech in Rajasthani language, proving India is a country with diversities.

Hindi teacher announced last performance of the day, it was directors speech.

Director Arun Kant left his chair and climbed up the dais, slowly like counting the steps. The crowd

clapped and clapped. He was a celebrity in his own school. He looked around, proudly. He waited for alittle while, with calmness and confidence on his full face, like a philosopher who had come to crack new

concepts of life.

Hundreds of bows in the feet of mother Sarswati, he paused to breath. I wish a happy independence

day on the occasion of its 62nd anniversary. Come on, lets remember our freedom fighters and their

selfless sacrifice.

Kant took a break again. He was a fluent speaker. He knew how to switch in a speech. He knew where

to notice the applause. He knew how to end a line after every topic of his speech.

I also congratulate all the stage performers of the day. My children, you have overwhelmed me with

your talents. Especially the dramaA Kid in the KG, you showed how much you love your school.

Anyway, that was not what Kant was there for. He was there to tell how his school was better than

others. Gyan Bharti, one school for all of us, has proved its genius without parallel. Good education is

paramount of for the society while standpoint of our school.

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He paused until people did a round of applause for him, long enough, but he didnt get off. He looked

keyed-up instead.

I want to thank and congratulate the very skilled staff of Gyan Bharti, two hundred full-time staff we

have for more than three thousand students of ours, for the best results in our city. You all are rungs of this

ladder.

He had complicated his language and lost some hands in the applause. Nobody likes formal ad-lib

speeches, no matter how great your pronunciation is. People were bored, yet Kant was not done.Gyan Bharti is a center of values and knowledge, he gestured towards guests and professed with a

swing of his hand, Pick up the records and you would see, quantitatively and qualitatively, Gyan Bharti has

given the best results in the area. As of last year, thirty three students from our school scored more than

eighty percentages in tenth board examinations.

You could see the effect of his speech on students. Some had begun whispering, some were itching

their body, some sleeping and a few keeping their mouth wide open and staring at the distant stage. Kant

had wasted their half an hour.

We are all alive to brag about ourselves, Go on.

Kant went on we nurture talents and make ability in them and thats why we have faith of fathers and

mothers. I want to make you believe that well always come with the same brilliance. Happy Independence

Day once again, with that Kant get off the lectern.

Students gave him biggest round of applause of the day.

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Part Three

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M

It was darkness outside when Madhu came home. I had been lying in the sofa for almost three hours in

the same pose without turning around. Life had been suddenly sour because of almost nothing. There was

another place in our home where Prateek would be lying. He was out of my sight.

Only one scene was coming into my mind like a musical track on a loop. It had changed the taste oftime. It was my son, Prateek who created it.

Where is your cell phone? I had asked.

I have lost it.

Where?

I dont know.

It was pure carelessness. He had not asked me to buy him another one or to help him search it out. He

had decided to travel a thirty five hours journey without any contact no. and that seemed fair to him. He was

going back to his college for next five months and he hadnt talked to me since that morning. I asked him

two questions and he answered twice. That was the only conversation we had had throughout the day.

Whats wrong with him? I had asked myself hundred times since last three hours and it only increased

irritation in my mind.

Are you okay? Madhu asked me.

Yes.

***

May I go? Prateek spoke behind me. My hand stopped on scooters seat.

Where? It was my anger that had burst out. Where are you going? I asked.

Prateek stopped in the middle of our courtyard and turned around to look at me, absently,

expressionlessly and rudely.

Ajmer, Prateek said, too low to hear.

Huh?

Ajmer to catch my train for Bengal, his compelled words came out and spread between us.

He had spoken to me, his father, after twenty hours. That was ridiculous.

I was frustrated with my feelings. I couldnt talk any sense. I couldnt control myself yelling at Prateek.

He had turned out to be an unsocial, rude and misbehaving. I didnt find it okay to see with him, my own

son.

Whats there for you