by Nag Mani
Rohan dragged a sofa aside and lay on it. His mind was heavy. He was tired. Anjali had somehow known that something was troubling him. It was almost as if she expected something to happen. A girl had gone missing. This was impractical. How could someone just disappear from the school and not be found? He felt tired and sleepy. He felt cold. He wrapped his arms around himself. Chandni was on the stage, playing her part with the Scarecrow. And how lucky that Scarecrow was! He wanted to march up to Mrs. Sharma and ask her to make him the Scarecrow. And her eyes; they were so beautiful; he was drowning in them… deeper… deeper…
And he was drowning.
He rammed at the window. The water was filling in.
He kicked at the door. The water was filling in.
He was drowning.
And a whisper… Sirrr…
Someone was tapping on his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Akshay was leaning over him. Rohan looked around. Everyone else had left. He rubbed his eyes and sat up... and found himself covered in a blazer. Its fragrance was a bit too familiar. His eyes at once fell on the golden words embroidered on the badge. House Captain. “Where is everyone?” he asked, beaming uncontrollably.
“Everyone’s left. We have to lock the hall.”
Rohan could not believe it. She had actually left her blazer for him. It was so cold outside, yet she had left it for him. Something warm emanated from his heart, and his smile widened. He wanted to curl up in it and go back to sleep.
“Aren’t you coming?” Akshay asked.
“Yes!” Rohan followed him out of the hall, carrying the blazer as if holding his heart. He locked the doors and went back to his dormitory. He carefully folded the blazer and put it beside his pillow. How he wanted to hug it! But that would have been desperate. He smiled and went to sleep. No ghost could have haunted him that night.
Rohan brought the blazer down to the classroom the next morning. He wanted to keep it for one more night. But what if she asked for it, he had thought. He would then return it immediately, he had decided. He had even brushed it. She ought to know that he had taken good care of it. He waited for the girls to arrive. He would then go to her class and call her out. No, he would not just hand it over in front of everyone. He would carry it over his arm, casually. Not folded; that would indicate too much of caring. Call her out, hand it over and say thank you, casually. Maybe discuss the day’s rehearsal plan, as if that was what he had come for, the blazer being a secondary objective. The right amount of casualness was the trickiest part.
A bell rang. Classes started. But neither came any girl nor any teacher. The boys fooled around. An hour passed in palaver. Boys began to pour out of their classrooms, and prefects came out shouting, “Get back inside! NOW!”
Something was wrong. Rohan could feel the tension. Another hour passed. The boys grew restless. Some boys went out again, and were soon driven inside. But they brought back news. They whispered, and Rohan felt a chill run down his spine.
Chandni was missing!
6. IN THE WASHROOM
Rohan did not believe it the first time he heard it. But no one had seen her since morning. The air was tense. Teachers were in a meeting in the Staff-Room. Prefects and guards ran around. Rohan sat miserably in his class. The story was true. It had happened earlier. A girl had disappeared once and was never found again; and now, Chandni! Had it to do something with the role of Dorothy Gale?
Manav, Varun and Ayush were having a hushed conversation behind him. He did not want to join. He felt sick. Did she run away? That too, at night! Why would she do that? There was no plausible explanation. But then, he remembered her sitting all alone in the dark Green Room… something was indeed wrong with her. What was she doing there that night? Planning her escape? She had lied about him to his seniors, she must have. Was she crazy? How else could it be explained?
It was almost lunch time when girls began to arrive, chattering like flocks of birds. Yes, Chandni had been found and they excitedly narrated the incident to the news deprived boys. A Junior School student had forgotten his pullover in the Auditorium. He had the hall opened and when he went inside, he heard someone whimpering behind the curtains; and how scared he was! He yelled. And no sooner did he run out of the hall than the teachers rushed in. Chandni was lying unconscious on the stage. She was taken to the Infirmary. Apparently, she had been locked inside the Auditorium the previous night and had fainted out of fright.
“What was she doing there?” Rohan asked. Every head turned towards him. She had to cross two guard-rooms and a couple of patrol guards to get to the hall. Why, even in her wildest dreams, would she do that? And even then, how did she open the door? He had himself locked it. Maybe she used the side door, or… the truth dawned upon him. He now understood why everyone was staring at him. He felt his heart sink. What had he done!
It was he who had locked her inside! He imagined himself on that dark stage, he had been there once… the darkness… the quietness… the heaviness…
“May I come in?” a junior poked his head inside. “Rohan, you have been called to the Principal’s Office.”
Rohan wanted to evaporate. His body felt like lead. With great effort he rose from his seat and headed for the office, every eye on him. He found the principal midway in the front quadrangle, surrounded by prefects, their eyes radiating wrath. “Yes, Mr. Agarwal,” said Mr. Lawrence. “What time did you lock the Auditorium last night?”
“Around 1:00 AM,” he replied.
“And what time did Miss Joshi leave?”
“I don’t know the time, but she left with the others. The hall was empty when I locked it.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“No.” Now it made sense. She might have gone downstairs while everyone was leaving. Only she knew what mental trauma she had gone through. The seniors were glaring at him. “I thought she left with other girls,” Rohan said feebly.
“Don’t think so much, you idiot!” fired the Head-Boy.
Mr. Lawrence studied him for a while. “Don’t let this happen again,” he said and waved him to leave.
Rohan could not eat his lunch. He only thought of Chandni, blissfully unaware of students continually pointing and looking at him. He went to meet her immediately after lunch, but she was sleeping. With Anjali and Chandni away, there was no practice that night. Rohan dreaded what was to come later that night. He knew he would be called by the seniors and punished for his carelessness. He sat quietly on his bed after dinner and waited. Dreadful hours passed. No one called him. The warden took the night roll-call, with his hands in his pockets, and left. Still no summon. The lights were switched off. Rohan crawled into his bed and tried to sleep. But sleep wouldn’t come. What had he done? How could she ever forgive him? And her blazer. It was still with him. How cold it must have been…
All of a sudden, the lights were switched on and a group of prefects and seniors barged in and pulled him out of his bed. They had brought hockey sticks; and before Rohan could react, they began showering him with blows and kicks. He didn’t know for how long it continued, all he saw was shoes and sticks and heard abuses. He covered his head with his hands as he fell on the floor and felt excruciating kicks in his stomach. He felt himself being dragged around. And just as his head hit something, knocking his lights out momentarily, he heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs. The warden came in with some other seniors. “Come on, guys, let it go.” It was Arun Trivedi, his House-Captain. Apparently, he had brought the warden, and, Rohan now noticed, the Head-Boy with him. But they continued to kick and punch him.
“Okay, boys, now,” said the warden coldly. “Go back to your dorms!”
Sharma intervened and pulled Rohan out. The seniors left, flipping his bed as they did. The warden scrutinized him as he stood in the centre of the dormitory, his night-suit ripped off, shivering from head to toe. He was not visibly hurt, so it would not be much of an issue. “Everyone back to bed!” the warden shouted. “You!” he turned to Rohan, his voice devoid of any sympathy. “Ch
ange your night-suit and go to sleep. You can go to Infirmary tomorrow if you want to.” With that, he left.
Rohan stood awkwardly in his spot. His cheeks were burning. His legs hurt. He didn’t know what to do. So he just stood and let the bitter night numb his body.
“Are you all right?” Ayush rushed to him.
Rohan didn’t reply. He looked at his upturned bed. All he wanted to do was to jump inside and… hide. Ayush might have sensed it, for he immediately began making his bed, more neatly than he had ever done for himself. Manav brought him another night-suit from his locker. Rohan didn’t change. He crept into his bed the moment Ayush had finished and pulled the blanket over his face. He was fighting back his tears.
He had not cried when he watched his parents leave nine years ago and he would not cry now. He had felt something painful gnaw at him as they walked away. He had wanted to run to them and pull them back, but was forbidden to leave the Junior School premises. All he could do was catch hold of a railing for support and watch, desperately hoping that they would change their mind and take him along. And then, they were gone. He just stood there, watching the bend around which they had disappeared, half expecting them to come back any moment.
They didn’t.
Rohan was all alone in that daunting place. He waited for them. And when it began to get cold, he went to his dormitory and sat on his bed. He had to unpack his trunk and put his belongings into a wooden locker allotted to him, and then unroll his bedding and make his bed. The matrons were busy with kids who were crying, giving instructions to others to make their beds. His mother had bought him a Mickey Mouse bed-sheet he had always wanted. They were very tight on budget. One night he saw her go through her jewellery and the next day he had everything he wanted. And he had literally danced around his house with his new soft fur blanket, while his pet dog jumped around in synchronization, seeming equally happy.
The first night was rough. He had to make his bed all on his own as the ayahs too were busy helping those who seemed completely lost and cried beyond control. The bed-sheet required more skills than he had anticipated and he had to put in quite some effort to put on the pillow-case. His mother did it so effortlessly. But she wasn’t there. She was in a train with a ‘Waiting List’ ticket. And how desperately he wanted to know if it got ‘Confirmed’. With the blankets tucked in as directed, he was finally in bed, lost and helpless. By the time the lights were out, more kids had started crying. But he did not listen to them. His mind was far away with his parents in a train that rolled away to a fairy land a thousand kilometres away. He fought back his tears. The smiling Mickey Mouse was sad and the soft fur blanket was cold. He pulled out a piece of paper his father had given him. It was a letter. His eyes fell to the bottom of it.
Son, I am proud of you.
He didn’t cry then. And he wouldn’t cry now.
***
It was Sunday morning and Rohan woke up with his body aching. His left cheek was swollen and had developed blue patches. He didn’t eat much at breakfast and went to the Infirmary to meet Chandni. Sister was handing out medicines to students lined up at the door.
“I wanted to see Chandni,” he said, scratching his cheek so as to hide the marks. He didn’t want another beating for disclosing them. Sister was a strict lady in her fifties with a big mole on her chin. She had reddish hair which she always kept loose. She would have immediately marched to the principal had she seen his cheeks. She would have shouted at the principal, who would in turn have shouted at the seniors and they in turn would not have shouted at him, but made his remaining days in school miserable. “I have to return her blazer.”
“Corner room. Make it quick!” she replied without looking up.
Rohan paused in front of the door, completely at loss with words. How was he going to confront her? Nevertheless, he opened the door and went inside. Chandni was in her bed, her blankets rolled right over her head. “Hey!” he greeted awkwardly.
She sat up with a start and furiously began settling her hair. “Hi!” she smiled and tied her hair back. She was wearing a loose pink top and had rolled her sleeves up to her shoulders. She huddled in the cold, unconsciously stroking her slender arms. She looked so tempting, so soft… Rohan wanted to cuddle her, apologise, make her understand that he had never intended… “I am really sorry,” Rohan apologised and stood in front of her, not daring to meet her in the eyes. “I thought you had left.”
“No! No! It wasn’t your fault… what happened to you?” her hand went involuntarily to his cheek. He looked at it. She immediately withdrew her hand, suddenly aware of what she had done.
“Nothing,” he said, trying not to look at her bare arms. “I am really sorry. There was no one in the hall. I thought you must have…”
“Who did that?” she had not taken her eyes off his cheek.
Rohan kept silent.
“The boys did it, right?”
He nodded.
“And Hemant let it happen?”
“I am fine.”
Chandni looked at him tenderly. He knew she was concerned, but was helpless. She could not go against her classmates, right or wrong. “I am sorry,” she purred.
“No. I am fine. And I am sorry…” She was not angry with him at all.
“It was all my fault. But I told everyone that you had nothing to do with this. I especially told Hemant. I am so sorry!”
“What are you doing?” Sister interrupted. “Handing over her blazer or stitching one for her?”
“Take care!” Rohan put the blazer beside her. She continued to look at his cheek.
She did care, after all!
Chandni did not blame him for what had happened and Rohan felt a heavy burden lift away. He spent most of the day sleeping, mainly to avoid people’s stare. They were more disturbed about the incident than she herself was. By dinner, his cheek had improved and he almost leapt with joy – almost: he had to stop as his knees hurt – when Varun informed him that the play party had been excused from the final exams. “We’ll be marked on the average of the year,” said Varun.
“Who talked to the principal?” he asked.
“Chandni.”
“But she is in the Infirmary.”
“She took leave. Went home.”
“And how did she talk him into it?”
“She just told him that we will not be taking our exams.”
“And he agreed? Just like that?” She had style, and that was why he went nuts for her.
“But there is something I want to show you,” Varun grinned at him and pulled him into a washroom.
“What?” Rohan looked around. The washroom had two rows of wash-basins on opposite walls and two cubicles for toilet. Manav was talking to a classmate, Mayank Seth. He was a fat boy with beady eyes and shiny hair parted perfectly in the middle. In a basin in front of him was a thick bundle of oiled chapattis rolled in tissue-paper. Rohan looked around again. Students did manage to smuggle in food items from the town once in a while. But there was nothing else in the room that could go with chapattis kept in an unhygienic wash-basin. "What's with this?" Rohan asked Varun.
"How many times have you been told to take rounds of the Field for a pair of unpolished shoes?" asked Mayank.
"Never!" Rohan replied curtly.
"Well, in that case, how many hours have you spent polishing your shoes?"
"Come to the point."
"With these chapattis, you don’t have to worry about your shoes ever again. You can shine them in seconds!"
"You brought these upstairs to shine your shoes?" Rohan was amused by his stupidity. Carrying eatables outside the Dining Hall was punishable and the warden made sure he made an example out of the guilty.
"No. These seniors have ordered butter-chicken from town today. They told me to carry these chapattis to their dorm after dinner. They didn’t tell me not to polish my shoes with them..."
"…Or spit on them," added Manav.
"Or," Mayank pointed at the freshly cleaned toil
ets, "rub a few on those seats!"
Rohan let out a snort. "Seriously?"
"Yes," Mayank said, "and we thought it would be nice inviting you to their party. Do you want to carry these to their dorm?"
"Damn! Yes!" Whenever the seniors decided to order delicacies from the town, they made juniors carry chapattis to their dormitory. This meant that the unlucky junior had to hide the chapattis for an hour in his class after dinner, then another two hours in his dormitory till roll-call. And if caught in the act, he dared not accuse the seniors. Rohan had himself carried chapattis for them on several occasions, and had been caught once. The warden had made him kneel in front of the girls' tables the next day during lunch.
Rohan carried half the bundle to Class XII dormitory. He paused at the door to put on a grim look. "May I come in?" He asked and entered, Mayank behind him. The dorm was in an utter mess. Dirty socks lay scattered everywhere. Most of the lockers were open, displaying the chaos inside. Loud music was blaring in one corner. "Why are you here?" asked a stubby senior bitterly.
"You asked for chapattis..." Mayank held up the bundle he was carrying.
"Ya, but why is he here?"
“I helped him sneak these chapattis.” Rohan lied instantly.
“And came here sniffing for chicken?”
“No, I was just helping him.”
“Leave them here and get out!” the senior glared at Rohan.
Rohan had expected he would at least get a chance to watch them eat. But since the stubby senior was eyeing him, he thought it was better to leave than arouse suspicion. Once out, he burst into laughter and ran back to his dormitory, impatiently waiting for Mayank to return.
Rohan was beaming when he went to sleep. The seniors had thoroughly enjoyed their butter-chicken and Mayank had equally enjoyed watching them eat. They had even offered him a piece. Chandni was not mad at him. And above all, she cared!