I Kissed A Girl In My Class (8 page)

Then, the children
were handed over to the mali, who showed them where the watering
can and the trowels were kept. He told them not to water the plants
too often, but since it was already summer, not to let the soil
below them go dry. That was confusing, but none of the students
raised any questions. They nodded their heads wisely, and the mali,
who didn’t like children anyway because they stole flowers and
played on the grass, and shied stones at the green mangoes in the
trees, was only too happy to get rid of them in a few minutes.

***

The
first-period bell had already rung and they were well into the
second period now. So, the 12 of them decided to hang around a
while longer. But they knew they would be seen from the class
windows, so they disappeared inside the building from a side door
and hung around the water coolers. There really wasn’t anything to
talk about, yet the talk flowed incessantly and loudly. They
gossiped about their new teachers and discussed the lessons in the
new books. When one said the lessons were too difficult, another
contradicted to show how clever they were. But that’s how students
have always talked.

Those stolen
minutes broke the reserve between the students who had been in the
same school and class for years yet had remained strangers behind
the walls and doors of their sections. Another bell rang the second
period to an end, and the students were at risk of being discovered
as teachers on their way to the other building were bound to pass
by. So, they quickly broke up into their section-wise groups and
ran up to their classrooms by separate staircases, hurriedly
good-morning-ing all the teachers they met on the way, and hoping
that they would not run into the teachers whose classes they had
missed.

Early morning was
the best time to look after the trees. Not just because the mali
said so, but also because the students would not get time later in
the day. None of them wanted to spend the tiffin break watering
trees and there was no question of staying back after school hours
for this job.

On Tuesday
morning, some of the chosen students, the ones who cycled to
school, came early. Manu was early, and so were Neha and Priya, but
the others, like Samar and Deepak and Anisha, who lived further
away and came by the school bus arrived much later. The students
were very excited about their responsibility. There’s neither a
trophy nor any marks for watering a sapling, but the fact that the
principal herself had chosen them, and the trees had been planted
by the PATRONS themselves, swelled the students with pride.

In the morning,
the school ground was a cool place, much cooler than the road
outside. The second school building cast its long shadow over the
ground and the saplings. Neha, who was the first to arrive because
she lived nearby in Sector 47, dropped her bag in class and eagerly
rushed down to the tap stand near which the watering can was kept.
The steel can was large and heavy, and it didn’t fit into the sink
under the taps, so Neha had to find a hose to fill it. And by the
time she did that, Priya and Manu had also arrived.

Manu showed his
chivalrous side, letting the girls take the can first, but Priya
who had picked it up in Neha’s absence said she had the first claim
to it. Neha, who never fought or even argued with anyone, didn’t
object but held on to the hose. After a minute’s struggle, Priya
realized that the hose in Neha’s hand was needed, and she
surrendered the can.

Neha filled the
can to the brim, but when she tried to lift it she couldn’t raise
it an inch. Priya also had a go at it with limited success, and
then Manu stepped in hopefully and happily to oblige the damsels.
He was able to raise it but the sharp edges of the handle bit into
his palms and the weight dragged his shoulders. “After you,” Manu
told the girls with his best grin and started walking behind them.
The can was overfull and at every step it shook and spilled a
little water on Manu’s left trouser leg. It slowly soaked his left
sock right down to the toes, and when he stepped into the ground
from the concrete path, mud stuck to his wet left shoe, caking it.
Yet, Manu smiled and walked after the girls.

He wanted to empty
the whole can into Neha’s sapling, but Priya’s was nearer so he
stopped and showered the soil quickly, reminding her that the mali
had told them not to flood the soil. His own sapling stood next,
but he walked past it to Neha’s that was at the end of the row. She
protested loudly, but he brushed aside her arguments with a wave of
his free hand. This time, he was royally generous. He walked around
the sapling, raining water on the soil, and then through the gun
slits in the protective cage, he poured water on the leaves to wash
them. The splashing water muddied both his shoes and the hems of
his trouser legs, but Manu didn’t care. He stepped back to admire
his work and then searched for a look of admiration in Neha’s eyes.
However, she only seemed alarmed at the puddle he had made around
her charge. He saw it too and realized he had overdone the favour.
“Er, don’t worry, Neha, the soil will soak the water in minutes.
It’s going to be a hot and dry day,” he said.

For his own
sapling, Manu had precious little water left and he quickly emptied
the can around it. The buses had arrived and through the school
gates a flood of students was pouring in. The other nine came and
stopped to look at Manu’s work and the mess he was in. “Will you
water our saplings, too, Manu?” girls who were in charge of the
three other saplings pleaded? But Manu said he needed to clean up
and nudged Samar and Deepak to make themselves useful. It is good
to be helpful, but not without a purpose, he thought. He would have
to spend six hours in class wearing clammy socks, and that was too
severe and undeserved a punishment for a Good Samaritan.

Manu sat on the
merry-go-round and scraped mud off his trouser legs and shoes with
mango leaves. He had decided his strategy for the next morning. He
would come well before Neha and Priya, and water his and Neha’s
saplings. She would be surprised, and know without guessing too far
that he had done it for her. And, he would not fill the can so much
again. Half of it would have been enough for two saplings. There
would be no repeat of this mess.

From his perch, he
saw the other students carrying the watering can in teams of two.
They were having a nice time, all together, laughing and chatting.
And they were also making a fine mess. Two girls had dropped the
can near a sapling and wet their shoes. And then the wet mud from
the rim of the can had rubbed off on Samar’s white shirt. He had
spread the stain trying to rub it off, and was laughing with the
others. While Anisha was around, Neha had gone back to the class
arm-in-arm with her friend Ginny. Manu didn’t know whether he had
made a favourable impression upon her. He checked his watch, it was
time for the assembly bell and he walked towards the classroom,
calling out to the others to hurry up.

***

Wednesday
morning Manu came in really early. The cycle stand was empty and he
was tempted to park his cycle at the end of the stand under a mango
tree—a space that the class 10 boys had reserved for themselves. A
couple of them even came to school on motorcycles, a Kawasaki Bajaj
KB100 and a Yamaha RX100. But then he thought the better of it
because they would certainly deflate his cycle’s tyres, or even
puncture them. Leaving about 20 slots for them, he parked his cycle
as close to the tree as he dared to.

The classrooms
were empty, and even the corridors were empty but for the sweepers
who were hurriedly mopping the floor and pushing their noisy pails
along. Manu dropped his bag on his bench, and hurriedly drew a
Jolly Roger on the blackboard since there was no witness around to
tell on him. Then he hurried down to the tap stand and filled the
watering can with the hose that had not been removed since the
previous day.

He saw Rachna
Ma’am’s green Premier Padmini come in as he walked down the
driveway to Neha’s sapling. Some students had also been dropped to
school by their parents and they were playing on the swings. It
won’t be long before Neha arrived, so Manu quickly poured water
around her plant and then did the same with his own, all the time
taking care not to splash his shoes and trousers. He had to give a
long explanation for the state of his uniform at home the previous
day.

Manu hurriedly
returned to the building and stood at the newspaper stand to await
Neha’s arrival and enjoy her surprise. But he was disappointed.
Neha came in a hurry and rushed up the stairs without noticing him.
A minute later, she hurried down the steps, towards the ground,
again without noticing him. It was clear that she hadn’t stopped to
see the sapling on her way in. From the door of the school
building, he saw her filling the watering can at the tap stand and
carrying it with great difficulty, using both hands, to the
sapling. She stopped and stared at the soil for a few moments,
obviously puzzled. Then she walked down the row of saplings to see
whether the others had also been watered.

Manu suddenly
panicked. All along he had wanted Neha to know he adored her, and
now that she was about to figure out his feelings, he was very
afraid. How will she take it, he thought. Will she be angry, will
she hate me, will she tell the other girls and mock me, will she
complain to a teacher? A jumble of possibilities arose in his mind.
Neha had finished her survey and was walking back, leaving the
filled can in the ground. Manu fled up to his classroom and waited
with bated breath. His heart beat wildly and he hoped that no other
student would be around to witness the scene, if a scene was what
Neha intended to make.

He heard
footsteps, and then the small smiling face peeped inside. “Hi,
Manu, did you water our sapling?” An idea came to Manu suddenly.
“Er, not really,” he said, “I was left with a little water in the
can and thought I would pour it on your plant. But it was only a
little, Neha, and you will need to pour some more. These are hot
days”.

Neha nodded, not
knowingly or wisely, but innocently. She hadn’t read his mind and
had gone back to pour more water. The crisis had blown over. Manu
leaned back in his bench and thought how foolish he had been, and
decided not to woo Neha so overtly. Instead of coming in early, he
would time his arrival with Neha and then help her openly.

Manu again came
early on Thursday but instead of running down to the taps, he
browsed at the newspaper stand. When Neha came, he asked her if she
had seen any of the others in the ground, and when she said ‘no’,
he suggested that they go out together and finish the job rather
than crowd around the taps for their turn with the others. It was a
wonderful feeling, just he and Neha tending to their saplings with
no Priya or Anisha to bother them. He talked to her about the
coming unit test and algebra and whatever else came to his mind.
She laughed at some of his jokes, and he felt encouraged, but she
didn’t understand some of them at all, and Manu realized the
foolishness of trying to act smart.

This became his
morning routine, and he finally found the confidence to walk up to
Neha and talk to her whenever he saw her outside the class, and he
was quite sure that she had not gauged his feelings about her at
all.

Two weeks passed
in this manner, the saplings had not grown much, but some had grown
more leaves than the others. Samar’s sapling was covered in tiny
leaves like a cleaning brush, Deepti’s was also looking strong, but
Manu’s had actually lost a leaf or two, without showing any signs
of budding new ones. The mali said he should be patient, his
sapling was under the shade of another tree and would grow slowly.
He also warned Manu not to water the sapling unless the soil turned
dry, as too much water might make it rot. “What rot,” Manu thought,
“everyone’s sapling is quickly turning into a strapping tree and he
wants me to deny mine the nutrition it deserves.”

He continued
pouring water into it every morning, and even increased the amount
somewhat but the result was just as the mali had predicted, the
tree looked weaker and weaker still. Was it ill, was it dying, did
it need some scientific treatment, Manu wondered. He searched for
answers in the biology portion of his science textbook. There was a
chapter on agriculture towards the end of the book, and it talked
about the Green Revolution and the role of fertilizers. Urea and
potash. Yes, his sapling needed some fertilizers, and then it would
shoot up to be the tallest and stoutest of the trees in that
orchard. Perhaps, it would yield fruit before Manu passed out of
school in four years, and he would be honoured on the school stage
with its first basketful. Um, no, the first dozen mangoes would
have to be sent to the school’s patrons wherever they lived, and he
would insist upon the principal accepting the next, and only then
take the third lot as reward for his labours.

It was a pleasant
reverie but Manu realized that he had no way of getting
fertilizers. The schoolyard always had a heap of manure for the
flowers in one corner, but he would not for anything handle such a
vile thing. Besides, it wasn’t scientific and modern enough for his
taste. Manu asked Papa where he could get some fertilizer, but got
another question in reply: “Why, what do you need fertilizer
for?”

The days had
become very hot and the summer break was just two weeks away. All
the water in the world was not making any difference to Manu’s
sapling while the other five were thriving. “Mine is a lemon,” he
cursed his luck. It was left with just four or five leaves whose
tips had curled and turned brown. The main stalk was also beginning
to shrivel.