by Nag Mani
About an hour later, they halted in front of a tea stall in a corner of the town, opposite the Naini Lake. To their right, a road ran up above the Bhotia Market to the Governor’s Residence, from where it took a U-turn and continued upwards to their school. A little way to the left was a Gurudwara and a police station. The town’s field was at a lower level and they ran through its length in small groups, keeping close to a high wall that obscured them from the police station. People threw random glances at them. But groups of uniformed boys wandering about in town was not an uncommon sight. They worked their way past the Ashok Talkies to the taxi stand. It was decided that they would, if possible, go to a classmate’s house in Haldwani and then contact all those who lived nearby. Some students procured cash they had successfully hidden from the warden. Four students went ahead to talk to the drivers while others lingered around, nervously glancing at the police station or the road that ran up to their school.
“What’s wrong? Why are you boys here?” asked a taxi driver.
This was unexpected.
“We have to go to Haldwani,” replied Manav.
“Your holidays have started?” asked another driver. A few more joined in.
“Yes, sort of. We are going to visit a friend of ours.”
“If your holidays have started, why are you all in uniform?” asked the first one.
“No, we have to come back to school today itself. Just a quick visit and back.”
The drivers exchanged looks. The schools in the town usually booked buses for a party this big. “Does your principal know about it?”
“How do you think we came here?” Rohan intervened.
It seemed obvious. They couldn’t have just walked out of the gates. More than a dozen drivers had been observing them. They began to talk among themselves. The students waited with their hearts in their mouths. Were they planning to enquire?
“Okay. How many cars?” asked a driver eventually. They were sixty and decided to take six taxis. Fare was agreed upon. They hurriedly got into the cars lest they be caught in the last moment, and soon they were speeding along the lake.
Rohan nervously looked around. The lake was dotted with beautifully decorated boats, while Ayarpata, one of the seven giant mountains of Nainital, rose for the sky beyond the opposite bank with a huge landslide scarring its green surface. He heard bells ring continually in the Naina Devi Temple. Tourists in colourful dresses were strolling along the road, exploring the road-side shops, enjoying the scenery or blissfully sitting on benches with pink cotton-candies. The town was as beautiful as ever.
It was 4:00 PM, time for roll-call. A bell rang and within minutes the boys lined up in the front quadrangle. But there was a gap between Class X and Class XII. The warden was furious. Juniors were sent to call them. They ran around the campus but their seniors were nowhere to be seen. The warden was boiling with rage. Prefects were summoned. “I want the entire class here in two minutes!” he snarled. The prefects sent more juniors to look for them. The warden waited impatiently. He would give them the hammering of their lifetime.
Meanwhile, the vice-principal, Mr. D. K. Roy was tending to his garden, his pair of golden spectacles perched atop his head. His wife sat on a rocking-chair, enjoying a cup of tea with a Junior School nanny. A heap of answer papers rested on a table beside her.
“It is nice to see the boys go out more often,” said the nanny.
“Yes, it is nice,” agreed Mrs. Roy, her mind on the unchecked papers.
“But holidays start day-after. What was the purpose of sending them today?”
“I don’t know. Ask Sir,” she pointed at her husband and took a sip.
“Sir, I saw some boys out of the campus. They said it was a picnic.”
“Yes… yes,” he replied without looking up.
“But I did not see any teacher escorting them.”
“Saw whom?” He had her attention.
“The boys… go… picnic…”
“What picnic?”
A phone rang in the Staff-Room. The warden answered it. Students could see him through the windows. There was a sudden disquiet because what the warden heard made him fall to his knees. Soon, phones were ringing in every staff quarter. Teachers came running out. Search teams were sent to the town. There was panic. There was chaos. Where could they be? And what if something happened to any of them? Eventually, a phone rang in the police station.
Four drivers were playing cards when a police vehicle screeched to a halt in front of them. Two officers jumped out and asked if they had seen any student of Queen Victoria School.
Yes, they had. An entire group.
Did they know where they went?
Yes, they did.
Did they have contact number of any of the drivers who had taken them?
Of course, they had.
It was for the second time that the phone rang in their car. The first time had been about an hour ago. Rohan’s mouth had gone dry then. But it was only the driver’s wife asking him to bring home vegetables. But this time it was different. Rohan felt it the very moment the phone rang. They were about eight kilometres from Kathgodam, a small town at the foothills of Nainital and the nearest railway station. The driver stopped the car and stepped out. Four cars had lined up behind them. All the drivers were excitedly talking on their phones. The sixth car was not in view. Rohan looked out of the window and watched their excitement turn into nervousness and then, fear.
He had doubted their plan from the very beginning. It was puerile and impulsive. He was scared that even if one of them got injured, they might all have to return. But so far there had been no accidents. And with good luck, they had come this far. But it was over. He would certainly be expelled now, no doubt.
“What have you done?” the driver shouted through the window.
“We are going to Haldwani to meet a friend,” replied Manav immediately.
“No you are not. You ran away from your school!”
“No! We are just going…”
“Yes, you did! Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You wouldn’t have taken us then.”
“We could have helped you!”
“Helped us? You would have taken us back to our school.”
“No! We would surely have helped. You are like our brothers. We have been driving you people for years. We would have done whatever we could.”
“Fine, then take us to Haldwani. We have almost reached Kathgodam. Haldwani is just fifteen minutes from there.”
“You don’t understand what trouble you have landed us in.”
“You are in no trouble. We are. All you have to do is…”
“The police are after us!” With that the driver left.
“Listen,” Rohan called out, “why don’t you just drop us in Haldwani?”
“Because we have been ordered to wait here,” he shouted back.
“You can at least drop us in Kathgodam. It’s just eight kilometres from here. Anywhere,” Rohan looked around at the quiet pine trees waving gloomily in a breeze, “but here.”
“Why don’t you realise the gravity of the situation? The police have set up a checkpoint in Kathgodam. They are even sending a patrol car up.”
Manav was the first to realise the gravity of the situation - for a smile spread over his face. Rohan felt proud too, and a bit nervous. They had indeed created a stir. Cops and teachers chasing them - they couldn’t just give up. They had to put up a good show. The desperation to evade heightened. “Then why don’t you drop us somewhere before Kathgodam. We need to go off-road,” he said.
“We can’t. We have been ordered to stop. They might slap a charge on us for…”
“You can tell them we had reached Kathgodam by the time you received their call.”
“We already gave them our location. They said, ‘Stop right there. We are coming.’”
“See,” Rohan raised his voice, “you are six and we are sixty. Think about it. You can always tell them we forced you to drive on. Y
ou had no choice. Just drop us somewhere near the plains and be on your way.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Then - you are six and we are sixty. Think about it!”
The driver stared at him in disbelief. He consulted with his colleagues. They were all nervously pacing up and down the road. One of them was just standing at the edge of the road, looking dreamily at the mountains. Rohan couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but suddenly, they all headed back to their cars and without a word, started the engines and accelerated. Rohan had no idea that in time to come, they would actually tell the police that the students threw stones at them and beat them with sticks, (Really? They couldn’t come up with anything better than stones and sticks!) and forced them to drive on. One of them literally pulled up his sleeves to show some marks.
Just as they were to enter Kathgodam, they spotted a narrow path that led off the main road to the banks of the Gaula River. They paid the drivers and dispersed from the road. The sixth car was still missing. It was highly dangerous to wait for them on the road. Judging by the time they had wasted earlier, the police or the school authorities could be there any minute, and it was quite likely that the sixth car had already been busted. They ran down the path and wandered near the river, concealed by thick foliage of road-side trees. They spotted a small temple and took shelter. The priest was most astonished to see them and asked curious questions. They didn’t answer much. Rohan had an unsettling question gnawing at him. They had come so far, but what now? They couldn’t go back on the road. They were stuck!
After much hullaballoo, the class decided to send a pair of boys to contact their parents and another pair to wait by the road for the missing car. But just as the first team set out, they saw the sixth car speeding down the road, straight towards Kathgodam, probably unaware of the checkpoint that had been set up. They shouted and flailed their hands, but in vain. There was nothing more they could do. A few minutes later, Rohan saw a SUV on road. He caught a glimpse of something green inside. Prefects! The sixth car was sandwiched. He wondered what would happen to them. They had no idea where their classmates were. But would the prefects believe them? He turned his gaze to the swift waters of the Gaula River, swirling and dashing down its rocky bed. Soon, a police car swept by, turning every eye on the road.
Few villagers had begun to gather around the temple. They just stood and watched. The two boys returned. They had seen the prefects and had decided to come back. After a splenetic debate, it was decided to send them again. There was no point just hiding there. The boys walked towards the road as everyone watched gloomily. And just as they stepped on the road, a car screeched to a halt in front of them.
They stepped back in fright… and out jumped an elderly man and a woman.
“Mother!” one of the boys screamed and hugged her. Apparently, the authorities had called all local parents to help in tracking the students. The news had knocked the wind out of them. They were on their way to the school and whom did they see but their son step out from the trees! His father made quick phone calls and soon, more and more cars began to roll in. Rohan sat quietly on the temple steps and watched his classmates excitedly narrate the wrong doings of the warden. He was somewhat happy that his parents were blissfully unaware of this. They would know, eventually, but they were spared the period of turmoil of missing son, no matter how brief.
The sky darkened. All six taxis were lined up by the road. A big crowd had gathered around them. A few constables were struggling to keep media away. There was a flash every now and then. The priest was busy giving his statement to the police. The school authorities were pleading with them to return. The principal individually talked to them on phone, but the students simply refused to return. Eventually, the parents decided to send them back and everyone agreed. The media was pushed away and the students were ordered to go quietly back to their respective cars.
“Now, we have created history!” said Manav brightly once in the car.
“Yes,” agreed Rohan. They had actually done it. “But we also screwed our reputation,” he said faintly.
“We didn’t,” said Varun. “The warden did.”
A prefect entered their car. “Wait till you reach school!” And they spoke no more.
Rohan sat awkwardly all the way back to school, not daring to even move in front of the prefect. They received a great welcome from juniors when they arrived in the dormitories. They clapped and cheered till some prefects shooed them away. Dinner was arranged separately for them and the waiters served them graciously. Everyone, except their seniors whose batch reputation they had ruined, was supportive of their uprising. Mr. Lawrence talked to them after dinner. He cancelled the expulsion of the five boys and asked them for a fresh start. After all, they were the boys who would be leading the school next year.
No one knew what happened to the warden. He was never seen again.
12. THOSE ABANDONED BARRELS
Ayush returned the next morning, shouting madly on his way into the dormitory. He was overwhelmed that his classmates could go that crazy to bring him back. There was hugging and slapping and abusing and everyone congratulated each other and narrated their roles in the whole incident. Rohan cut himself out the moment he found time. He was restless. They had managed to get rid of the warden and bring their friends back, but the truth about Kajal still lay buried. He had told none of his friends about it. They were all gloating over their extra-ordinary achievement.
No one knew about her. No one cared.
He had felt special when he realised that it was Kajal who had saved him. It was the closest encounter he could ever have with her. It was thrilling… experiencing a vague bond with someone who no longer existed. All this time, he had been scared of her, and initially he had fought not to even believe in her existence. But she had been there all along, and even walked those very corridors once. Life had different, cruel plans for her. All this time she had only been asking for help, struggling, in her own way, for justice. And of all students, she had chosen him, trusted him.
The principal began to call his classmates, in small groups, to the Staff-Room. Local parents and guardians wanted to investigate the circumstances that led to the mass runaway. However, the air had lightened drastically. The principal had already appeased them and they did not find any need to press the issue further. Rohan, unexpectedly, was called alone in the evening.
Mr. Lawrence sat at the head of a long table with his wife, Mrs. Nandana Lawrence, an elegant woman with a strict face and greying hair. Harry was sitting quietly in a corner. Mr. Roy, the vice-principal, was in a far corner writing something in a notebook. A police officer was exploring the campus through the windows while three constables were strolling outside. There were no parents.
“Come in, Mr. Agarwal,” said Mr. Lawrence in a relaxed voice. Everyone had their eyes on him. Rohan waited for him to continue. “As I said yesterday, let us start afresh. Let us forget what happened in the past and focus on what lies ahead.”
What was it about? It was the last evening before the holidays. In a few hours, there would be a ‘Chapel Service’ and then they would be served ‘Special Dinner’. New prefects would then be appointed. But rumour had it that the decisions had not been made yet and would be announced only after the holidays.
“Yes, Sir,” he replied blankly.
“I am putting you back in the play team,” Mr. Lawrence beamed at him. “There have been certain… eh, unforeseen turn of events, but let that not ruin the hard work you students have put in. I give you full responsibility of the play. Continue with your practices. You can contact Mrs. Sharma for help. And Harry,” he turned around, “have you fixed a date yet?”
“Not yet, but I will let you know soon.”
No props. No costumes. No date.
“I know it will be hard for you,” Mr. Lawrence returned to Rohan. “But I also know that you can do it. Feel free to ask for anything you want. Go, work hard and win the audience. And I promise your contributions
will not go unnoticed.”
So, it was probably about the Head-Boy next year. But why, after all the ridiculous things he had said, were they putting him back in the play? It could have been some wicked scheme to win his loyalty and shut him up or a genuine gesture that they still believed in the goodness buried in him.
“By the way,” said Mr. Roy from his seat, “why did you run away? What problem did you have with Mr. Kumar?”
Rohan could have simply enumerated all his problems - made up a few, perhaps - and accepted the offer. He would have an awesome trip to Delhi with Chandni and if everything went fine, he would end up as a Head-Boy and have his name engraved in the Auditorium for endless years to come. But the Green Room flashed before his eyes. He saw her hands tremble as she raised them to defend herself, saw the Pity, the Fear, the Helplessness.
“I did not have any problem with the warden,” he declared.
“Then why did you run away? Class unity?”
“No, Sir.” Rohan took a deep breath and looked directly at the police officer. “Because a girl was raped and murdered in this school and ever since, the school has covered it up with a fake story of her being killed by a leopard.”
The room fell silent. Mr. Lawrence’s face went dead pale. His wife and the vice-principal eyed him in utter surprise. Harry was staring at him in disbelief. Rohan could sense something cooking in his mind.
“What is he talking about?” the officer asked Mr. Lawrence.
Rohan told him about the weird incidents he had experienced in the Green Room. He then narrated what he saw the night he had followed Kajal. He had believed that the officer would look into it, but he just seemed amused. “What is this boy talking about, Mr. Lawrence?” he asked again. “Is it about the case of 1989?”
“Yes. And you see now,” the principal rose to his feet, “it is not easy. We have to deal with maniacs like him. You saw what happened right now? You saw, didn’t you? Despite what these boys did, I gave him another chance, and he… one bad fish spoils the whole pond!”