“I told you, sit!” Jai raised his voice. The bark was enough to remind the class of the royalty’s presence within their walls. Despite it being a clear cut disturbance, the teacher just looked at Jai with I-know-you-did-it-again expression and carried on with her teaching.
“Bitch, I told you not to!” Jai scowled.
“Sorry maaaan! I didn’t know you’d get so peeved so quickly?”
“Then know so! I am not in my best of mood these days, so understand!” Jai spoke with authority.
“What happened man? Something serious?” Hardik replied.
“You know it,” Jai said. “It’s that Sen-guy! He’s making me jittery.”
“What about him?” Hardik was inquisitive.
“They way he ass-licks people around, his fuckin’ charm and his sugar-coated comments. It’s making all the teachers go gaga over him. Asshole he is man, I’ll bloody fuck him if he pips me to the Head Boy’s post!”
“Head Boy? That pimp is applying for Head Boy?” Hardik’s jaw dropped, metaphorically, not literally.
“Yeah he is and I am pretty sure that he will end up getting it despite my candidature.”
“No re, that’s not possible dude! You are Jai Chauhan, the poster boy of DHS, how can anyone replace you overnight?” there came a spontaneous response.
“But there must be some way of getting that bitch down? Find dirt man, go find dirt on him!” Jai ordered.
“Dirt? What kind of dirt do you want on him?”
“Any will do. His weakness, it can be a person or a trait or anything for that matter. Something that’ll make him cut a sorry figure. You find that out and then we can nail his not so holy image in front of Veenu.” Jai spoke as Hardik nodded.
His Highness had just put one of his subjects on a daunting mission. A lot was at stake for Jai and this mission was perhaps very crucial to ensure that if there was one winner at the end of it all, it would be Jai!
*
“Don’t you dare talk to me now!” Sahana snapped as she pushed the chair back in the library with a lot of noise. Some heads turned to see the commotion; the Library in-charge sent a frosty glare from behind the layers of books crowding her table.
Sahana got up to vacate the seat she was occupying; a taken aback Rishav Sen, mustered a lot of courage and mumbled, “What now?”
“You know shit about me!” Sahana hissed. “And right now, you are just being a presumptuous dickhead,” she said.
Rishav scratched the back of his head before meekly submitting his response, “Mind the language woman…” “…how on Earth am I supposed to know that calling you by the name of an Indian revolutionary might just piss you off?”
“It just did and seriously now, don’t talk to me!” She turned her back on him and stormed towards another seat across the gigantic Library of Delhi High School.
Rishav sat there for a few seconds, trying to come to terms with the intensity of what just struck him. After all the drama of creating a non-existent dog’s birthday, fixing up a date, making Sahana make excuses – he calls her by the name of a weird Indian freedom fighter and BAM! There she goes, all mad at him. By the time Rishav had steadied his nerves, Sahana was at the far corner of the hall checking out the magazine section. I got this date after a lot of effort, Rishav thought. And I won’t screw it up, he added. So he gathered the balls to walk up and tried not to sport a puppy dog face. He knew how repulsed Sahana would get had he tried the fake antics of making cute-innocent-puppy dog apologetic expressions. Trying to be normal, he approached Sahana; who on seeing him turned around and walked straight back to her seat. Rishav tailed her as he felt the gaze of a number of eyeballs following his actions.
He sat down right next to Sahana, much to her annoyance. “I am sorry?” he said.
“Was that a question?” She asked.
“Not really. Just that I didn’t intend any harm and besides I wasn’t aware that that name would affect you so badly,” he spoke in a lowered voice.
Sahana looked at him, visibly pissed as she formed her reply. “Whatever,” she said.
Whatever? Rishav said to himself. Damn these women, he thought.
Sahana couldn’t really care less about a person who when repeatedly being warned about something didn’t listen. Yes, it was true that she had once made a mention of how Rishav should judge from her response and should stop and see whether the joke is being taken sportingly by her or not, rather than continue with his incessant blabbering. She was the type who’d rather stay away from such people.
But, on the contrary, Rishav cared of course. He did. And right now what mattered was the apology to be accepted. Why?
For Rishav it was need and Sahana saw that to be his ulterior motive. That day was supposed to be their first unofficial date and being the despo he was, he badly hoped that Sahana would not let this bizarre incident ruin his much worked out plan, but to his chagrin – she kind of had already got a feel of how much he wanted the day to work out. She was smarter than what Rishav perceived her to be. And not being around many intelligent girls, numbed Rishav’s sense of judgment of whether the girl in front of him was a step ahead of him or not.
Sahana came under the category of girls who didn’t like guys who tried too hard. And it would take time for Rishav to realize that - and that too, the hard way. And according to her, their date now stood officially cancelled. The news had a bad effect on Rishav. With a sunken heart, he insisted that Sahana reconsider her stand. It was a stupid incident after all but she felt otherwise. He better get used to it, she thought.
And the day passed with nothing much as Rishav decided to just let it go. He had apologized and there wasn’t much that he could do. Maybe he didn’t know why that name might have offended her, but then to his defense – how would he if she never shared? For the first time, Rishav got the taste of a colourless day. And the missing colour was Sahana who refused to talk to him, his feelings for her were getting stronger – something that he realized quicker than he should have.
ELEVEN
Jai Chauhan appeared to be the typical villain, like in every story but there existed a good-side to him that Rishav badly wanted to discover.
Situations had made Jai what he was. He was not the one who would express love or emotions to people because he had been taught to remain calm, composed and focused towards the task at hand at all times in life – to be successful in every situation that faced him. This was something that he learnt from his father apart from the glorious pieces of advice and anecdotes that the senior Chauhan often shared with him. But it was actually the missing love of a separated mother that made him realize that human emotions were worthless or as he called them – a bag of crap that pulls you back!
He walked towards the Audio-Visual Room with his usual long strides, covering as much ground as possible. On reaching the room, he knocked on the door twice. Without any further wait, he pulled the door towards himself and slipped into the room.
A little away from the Audio-Visual Room, Muskaan Kaur accompanied by some of her most trusted aides waited outside Bindu Kalsi’s office. They had sought an appointment with the Principal and since it was Muskaan, an appointment was more of a formality.
The buzzer went off, indicating that Kalsi was ready to meet them. Muskaan was the first to pop her head in, “May we come in ma’am?” she spoke in a tone that was loud enough to make Kalsi lift her eyes up from the circular she was reading.
Kalsi smiled, “Muskaan, please come in…”
Muskaan walked in first, closely followed by her two colleagues. Kalsi folded the circular and put it inside her drawer. “What brings you here?” She asked.
“Ma’am, my colleagues and I intend to begin work for Socialact Wave as soon as possible,” Muskaan replied.
“Socialact Wave? So early? Isn’t it a good couple of months away already?” Kalsi’s glasses rested on the tip of her nose. She read each face present in the room carefully through the deep shades of kajal that underlined her eyes
.
Socialact Club was one of the most popular clubs around in Delhi High School. Its membership was only restricted to the popular ones who had fathers with heavy pockets. The entrance criteria was as simple as it could get – be cool, hang around with the right kinds, talk of big stuff and whollah, you are in! Muskaan Kaur and her colleagues (the couple of them who were present in the room) were jointly responsible for running the club and making it what it was; with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of contacts! And Socialact Wave was the Inter-School music fest that was held every year under the banner of the Socialact Club. It was one of those events which witnessed a lot of money splurging, shady sponsorship deals, consumption of alcohol by minors and usual murk expected in a high-society co-ed school in the suburbs of Delhi.
“It’s been five years since we’ve had it outside on a grand scale, we intend to do so this time,” said Muskaan convincingly.
“Outside?” Kalsi asked.
“By outside, I mean outside the Auditorium. In the school ground preferably. Five years is a long wait and we do not intend to wait any longer.” The other two people present in the room shook their heads in support of what Muskaan just said as though their life depended on Socialact Wave going outdoors.
Kalsi remained silent for a while till she herself broke the silence, “You do know Muskaan and let me mince no words, we would be requiring triple the funds for organizing such an event on a grand scale. Where would you gather such huge amounts of money?”
“Sponsorship…” Muskaan began. Bindu Kalsi for the first time got visibly impatient, “What sponsorship are you talking about? The sponsors previous year had paid one-third of what they’d be expected to pay this year and every time we can’t expect overwhelming support can we?”
“Yes we can,” Muskaan said. “We have internal support this time and with your permission we can convert that into an overwhelming support system.”
“What do you imply?” Kalsi took off her specs and rubbed her temple.
“Compulsory sponsorship from students will really help the cause…”
“Are you out of your mind Muskaan? We are answerable to the parents!” Kalsi raised her voice.
“Tch tch…Bindu, I agree we are answerable to the parents but not when the Parents’ Association representative is on our side,” a smile lit Muskaan’s face.
Kalsi raised her eyebrows in inquisitiveness.
“Yes, you heard it right. Veer Chauhan is ready to support our demand for compulsory donations from students. And if he does so, I doubt it whether parents would disagree. Jolly old Veer,” Muskaan smirked.
“Veer Chauhan…? You mean Jai’s father?” Kalsi replied.
“Yes and he has also agreed to make 75% payment for the setup costs of the entire function’s infrastructure with the help of his Telecom Service Providing firm.”
“That is interesting, how did you convince him?”
“It was simple, Socialact Wave this year shall be the grandest Wave ever and it shall so happen under your leadership. Isn’t that a proud occasion?” Muskaan ranted.
Bindu Kalsi’s chest puffed up with pride, “Yes indeed.”
“Veer Chauhan has agreed to provide unconditional help in the form of cash and kind but in return all we need to do is tweak the rules a bit.” Muskaan paused. There was silence all around.
“…Jai Chauhan needs to be made Secretary of Socialact Club despite not being of the permitted class and…” she spoke in a low tone.
“And…?” Kalsi moved a little forward.
Muskaan took in a deep breath, “…and Jai also has to be given first choice preference when the Council is nominated and the Head Boy is selected.”
Kalsi looked at her in disbelief, so did the accompanying teachers who had no inkling of what Muskaan had to say.
Muskaan got up from her seat, Kalsi still hadn’t spoken a word. “We need to decide on this Bindu,” she said. “…we need to decide on it soon. You are on the path to becoming the greatest Principal in the history of DHS and all that separates you from that tag is a petty post that needs to be given to a boy whose father….erm, whose father is perhaps one of the most generous people you’ll ever come across. And he doesn’t really demand much in return and it’s nothing that you can’t provide.” Muskaan curtly nodded as she rounded off her sentence and got ready to leave.
Bindu Kalsi pushed herself back on her reclining chair. In a contemplative mood, she thought of all that Muskaan had said. Some things made sense while others still remained ambiguous in her head. On one side she had her principles while on the other side she had instant success. She lifted her intercom and dialed for her secretary. A couple of rings later, the secretary was on the line.
“Connect me to the Chairman,” Kalsi said and put the receiver down. She looked at Muskaan and gave a semi affirmative nod.
Though unspoken, Muskaan knew word-to-word what Bindu Kalsi’s nod suggested. She was a happy woman and why not!
TWELVE
Who cares about school events like special assemblies, academic workshops, usual festival oriented occasions, it’s time for Socialact Wave.
This was perhaps the most overused line in the build up to Socialact Wave. Delhi High School seemed to have been engulfed by the father of all waves of activity. Students, teachers, office staff and employees alike – everyone was seen where they were not supposed to be seen. Teachers were no longer within the walls of their Staff Room sipping their hot cups of tea, instead were seen doing a variety of tasks that included designing contingency plans, assisting the Heads with the invite list, coordinating with the Office Administration and all. Students who never really enjoyed the comforts of their classroom finally got a chance to smell the fresh air again – the air of the corridors. Varying in shapes and sizes, students could be seen all over the corridors. Most were accompanied by a Socialact Club member, who’d be appearing to be in a lot of work yet not be in any. The students were involved in work that ranged from designing posters to helping in transferring decoration items from one end of the school to another. Other students including His Highness Jai Chauhan went about ordering people, flaunting his influence and doing things that would be included under the broad sub-heading as chutiyapanti.
Every year, Socialact Wave was an event that was highly anticipated and people would actually look forward to it due to its tremendous glamour quotient. Unlimited caffeinated drinks and food to those who paid up sponsorship money was an incentive. And since, sponsorships were compulsory that year, everyone was entitled to the food and beverage. Crisp circulars had ensured that all students, willing or unwillingly had to pay up four hundred rupees towards sponsorship for Socialact Wave. Besides, there were separate forms for the rich Daddies like that of Jai who’d sponsor the entire banner that was being put up. And it’d be unrealistic to say that students couldn’t really find good sponsors, a famous liquor brand named Royal Hag was ready to pay up to twenty five lakhs but much to the disappointment of many – they were refused by the image conscious Bindu Kalsi.
The program for Socialact Wave included performances by Western music bands from twenty schools in and around the National Capital Region. Apart from that there was usually one professional band that would play some of its suckiest songs for exorbitant prices. Follow it up with a boring speech from the Chairman and an encore performance by the previous year’s school band- that was Socialact Wave for you. But, somehow amidst the head-banging, foot-tapping and screaming, lay tremendous interest that had been generated over the years in favour of the event. Be it the food, the official beverage which included Pepsi or the unofficial one which included bottles of Vodka within the cisterns inside the bathroom, Wave had unparalleled acceptance all over the school.
Veer Chauhan scribbled something on a form that seemed like his signature. “Thank you for this opportunity Bindu,” he said. He lifted the glass of water lying right in front of him and took a few sips.
“Anytime Veer, anytime,” Bindu Kalsi said. �
�It’s really kind of you to be generous enough to contribute towards the school’s progress. Parents like you are highly appreciated.”
“It’s as much my school as it is yours,” Veer Chauhan replied.
Bindu Kalsi coughed a bit. She didn’t want to share anything, let alone her Kingdom.
“Yes, yes…” she superficially said.
“So, once this token amount is encashed, do I expect some good news regarding my son?” Mr. Chauhan said trying to be humble and in a way insulting the six zeros that had been put next to the digit 15 on the cheque that he had just signed.
“We are definitely trying to work things out,” Kalsi said. “We will see what can be done in the best interests of your son and the school.” Diplomacy was being used at its best no matter how sore it sounded to the ears.
“You do know Bindu that my son’s interests lay in the interest of the school,” he chuckled.
Late to catch his sense of humour, Bindu Kalsi laughed for the sake of laughing.
“Is there anything else I could do for you?” Mr. Chauhan asked.
“No, your help is tremendous. Thank you for that.”
“Then I shall take your leave,” a firm shake of hand and Jai Chauhan’s Super dad was gone.
*
“Socialact Wave, add all the murk around you and then triple it – you’ll still not manage to add up to the dirt this event brings to our school,” Siddhant Dalvi spoke in a circumspective tone.
Rishav nodded. “Is it true that it’s going outdoors after five years? Is it that big a deal?” he asked.
“Yes it is, my friend. A lot of excess money enters the school through events such as these. It’s very important.”
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