Sunday night was tensed, I got to know from a senior who stayed near my home about Bhavya’s father visit to our class teacher’s home.My father was leaving for Chennai, mother had returned from Kundapura and was relaxing, grandmother was watching a repetition of the daily soap and my brother busy romancing his monitor. I started cursing Darshan instinctively, I was tensed damn fuckin tensed. Forced myself to a disturbed sleep and woke up the next day without being woken up by my mother. Poured a cup of hot filter coffee- the elixir of joy and undoubtedly God’s greatest gift to mankind, closely followed by chocolate.
Finished my daily chores, prayed extra so that I wouldn’t get roasted. Rode hard and went to school as early as possible so as to gain control of the situation, which was beyond control already. To add fuel to already burning fire, I saw Darshan punching Mahesh – class clown, both of them swearing each other’s mother. Son of a bitch, I mumbled within my breath, I had guessed the exact sequence of events rightly, Darshan was parking his cycle and Mahesh sang a song from the movie we watched on Saturday, Darshan would have used his most popular swear word, “Mother F**ker”, Mahesh would have insulted Darshan’s mother, that would have resulted in the fight.I stopped them from fighting further, brought Darshan to senses by making him realize the gravity of the situation.
I saw Bhavya enter the school gate sitting behind her father on a Bajaj chetak scooter, he seemed like a miserable little man, totally frustrated with his life, Bhavya threw a expressionless glance at Darshan, their eyes met, Darshan stood motionless and he noticed this little romance. He parked his vehicle and advanced towards us and asked who was Darshan, Darshan replied, he was Darshan, like a hero from one of the old Indian movies, where the protagonist confronts the rich antagonist-father of the female lead. I poked him on his spine to behave properly, his father looked me and asked my name, I replied ” Holla, Bhaskar Holla, uncle”. By noticing my surname he asked if was from Kundapura, to which I replied “yes, but born and brought up in Bangalore”, he gave me a pleasant look and requested me to advise my friend to not mess with his daughter’s life and also not to spoil his life. Bell rang and everyone in the playground started running inside the prayer hall.
Class teachers used to take first hour of every Mondays and Thursdays, we were all seated in our respective desks, an attender came and called out who was the class representative, I raised my hand and he gave a puzzled look at me and said all the people who had gone to watch the movie on Saturday were being called by our class teacher towith chamber, with an all knowing look on my face I asked the gang that watched the movie on Saturday to leave and I joined them, attender asked why I was following, I replied even I was with them, he looked at my face and asked if I was not ashamed to do such a thing being the CR. For God’s sake it was just a movie and the position was just a class representative, not the prime minister or the President.
We entered our class teacher’s chamber, Bhavya’s father gazed at me with a surprised expression on his face.Our class teacher asked us to stretch our hands and he took a thin bamboo stick and gave each of us a canning on our palm and made us promise not to do such things in future, girls were crying profusely, Darshan and I tried to fake a tear, but failed miserably. Bhavya’s father asked me if I was not ashamed to such a thing by hailing from Kundapura and that too having “Holla” as a surname, I just gave a lame response saying “sorry uncle”. I feel ashamed now for apologizing for no crime of mine.
To our good fortune, our class teacher convinced our headmaster not to announce it in the assembly hall. While during school hours our class teacher had informed my mother about my massive adventure, I lied to her saying I was not aware of girls coming and I had just gone out with Darshan. From then on for sometime she started monitoring my every move for sometime and slowly she realized I was ” incorruptible” or was beyond “repair”.
That was one of the longest Monday of my life, few more to come up in years ahead.