RECAP

It has been a month since Kabir is admitted to the school. He still has not been able to make friends and hates going to the school. Sujata consoles him saying that soon his classmates will start liking him. He is a brilliant child. Yet another day at school, he gets the highest marks in Maths test. His teacher appreciates him, while it further widens the gap between him and his classmates.

CHAPTER  5

Red… orange… pink… purple… black… the kites were flying like birds all over. It seemed as if some artist had flung his colour palette in the sky, painting it with all shades of hues. Certain blue patches, still unblemished by the colours, were peeping through the tinted sky though!

Kabir’s eyes were slowly absorbing all those colours. He turned to Shilpa and said, “Aunty! Here also kids fly kites?”

Shilpa had just come out of the bathroom after her long elaborate shower on returning from the office.

She replied, “Yes beta! Children do fly kites here, but hardly for a few days… towards 15th August.”

“15th August?” he questioned, “But in our village, we used to fly kites on Basant Panchmi. It comes in January or February.”

“Beta! Every state has a different culture. Here kites are flown on Independence Day… and in Mumbai on Makar Sankranti, which falls on January 14,” explained Shilpa.

“Wow! You know so much, aunty!” exclaimed Kabir.

She, in response, laughed and said, “That’s because these days in my office, I’m working on a book on various national and regional festivals of India. You know, I’m an editor.”

“Actor?” his eyes widened with surprise.

“I said ‘editor’, bachche!” she stroked his hair, “We have authors who write books for us. Then, we polish their language, look after the pictures, and all such things. An author just writes the book, but we editors make it.”

“Hmm…” Kabir disinterestedly turned back to the window. It seemed as if he did not understand what Shilpa said, and perhaps, even did not want to comprehend.

He was still looking at the kites. He said, “Aunty! I also want to fly kites.”

“Kites? But child, we don’t have any kites in our house,” she said, “Still if you want, I’ll get some for you.”

She looked at the clock and mumbled, “Oh! It’s just seven. The shops must be open. Let me ask Aakriti.”

She called Aakriti and said, “Beta! Bhai wants to fly kites. You must be knowing a few shops. Please take him with you and get some kites.”

Aakriti, as usual, made a face and said, “Please mom! I don’t have any leisure time to waste. First term exams are beginning from next week. I’ve to study.”

“Come on, girl! It will hardly take ten minutes.”

“I’m not going. If he doesn’t want to study, that doesn’t means I don’t have to either.”

“Aakriti!” Shilpa shouted, “This is the height of insolence. Why do you speak so ill of him? After all, he’s your younger brother.”

“No! This stupid nosy village boy with oiled hair can never be my brother,” she replied curtly.

Shilpa was about to scold her even more, but Kabir intervened, “It’s okay, aunty! Don’t scold di.”

She looked at him and said, “Tomorrow is 15th August. Uncle will also be at home. He’ll get the kites for you. Alright, son!”

Kabir smiled and went to his room. Aakriti, too, departed stamping her feet.

“Ever since he has come, my parents have suddenly become so rude to me,” she contemplated, “They no longer love me. They fulfil each and every desire of him. I know, tomorrow dad will surely get the kites. But he won’t let me have a mobile phone. All my friends have one; their parents love them. But my mom-dad are least bothered about me.”

She, then, picked up her books and said inwardly, “There’s only one way I can get the mobile. I’ll study hard and perform better than the previous classes this time. Then I’ll ask for a mobile as a reward for performing well.”

                                      ****

Unfortunately what Aakriti had planned did not happen. She was an average student. No matter how much she tried, her percentage could never jump above 70%. This time, though she had tried hard, she could only manage to get 68%.

Kabir, on the other hand, passed the first terms with flying colours. He secured 96% and stood first in the class, which made him a favourite among his teachers. However, the flip side to finding appreciation in the eyes of teachers was that his classmates were estranged even further, and had started ignoring him more and more.

Today, both Aakriti and Kabir had got their report cards. They were coming back by the school bus. Kabir could not decide if he should laugh or cry. He had got the highest marks in all subjects. His teachers had developed an affinity for him, but he was now completely alienated from his classmates. He, certainly, did not want this to happen to himself. He wanted to win them over. He wanted to make friends with them.

He remembered how he used to celebrate whenever he stood first in his village. Mamma would prepare some mithai at home and distribute among all the neighbours, while papa would take him and all his friends to the nearby bazaar and treat them with papadi chaat and barf ka gola. How much he missed them! And papa too!

Aakriti, on the other hand, was very disappointed with her performance. Though, it did not have as much to do with the performance as much with losing the prospect of getting a mobile phone.

“Even if I had got 75%, I could have bargained,” she moaned.

“Relax, sweety!” her friend in the bus consoled her, “This was just the first term. You still have second terms and finals.”

“Who will wait till then?” she whined, “All my friends have a mobile. Even you have one!”

“Why don’t you urge your dad to get you a cell? Tell him that you’ll get more marks next time,” her friend suggested.

What a paradox that was! Aakriti, at least, had a friend to console her when she was dejected. But Kabir, in spite of doing exceptionally well in studies, had no one to rejoice in his happiness.

Both the children reached home. While Kabir went straight to his mother, Aakriti, sulking, closed herself in her room. Vimala, the part time maid, asked her to have lunch. But, she shouted a casual ‘I’ll have it later’ without bothering to step out of the room.

“Mamma! See, I stood first in my class. I’ve got 96%,” Kabir chirped.

“Very good, beta! I’m so proud of you,” Sujata praised him.

“It’s been so long since you prepared halwa-nagori for me. I don’t even remember when I had it last. Could you please make it today?” he requested.

Sujata did want to make halwa-nagori for her little child… as a reward for his good performance. But she was helpless! Each and every movement would give her a pain. She could not even sleep comfortably in her bed. She could not stand; her thighs would start aching. Now she was just five days away from her due date. And, all she was interested in was getting the baby out of her womb.

“Just a few days more, child! I’ll make whatever you say,” she replied in a feeble voice.

Kabir caressed her bloated belly. Then without uttering even a single word, he had his lunch and got busy with his homework. Circumstances had suddenly made him a matured and understanding child. Sometimes, Sujata herself wondered if he was growing up fast.

                                   ****

At the dinner table, he broke the news of his success in exams. Both Vishal and Shilpa were delighted that despite his rural background he excelled in a top-notch school of Delhi.

“Congrats, young boy!” Vishal patted his back, “Go, get your marksheet.”

Kabir excitedly jumped from his chair and ran to his room.

“That reminds me,” Shilpa turned to Aakriti, “You too must have got it, Aakriti. What’s your percentage this time?”

“Mom… mom…” she stammered.

“Get it,” she ordered.

Aakriti lowered her eyelashes and quietly left. By now, Kabir had got his report card. Vishal was appreciating him a lot. Aakriti got hers and handed it to her mother.

Shilpa looked at it and handed it over to Vishal saying, “This girl will never mend her ways.”

“58 in Science, 55 in Maths, 63 in Computers… what’s this, Aakriti? Such low marks!” he shouted.

“Dad, but…”

“What but? You promised you would try to get good marks this time. What happened, then?”

“I tried, dad!”

“You remember our promises so well, but never keep yours. I know, had you got good marks, you would have already started bugging us for a cell phone,” he exploded.

“Dad, all my friends have one… Vanshika, Laura, Sahil, everyone… Their parents got them a mobile last year only,” she said in a shivering voice.

“Don’t compare us with other parents. We’re not like them. We’ll never fulfil unjustified demands of our children,” Shilpa joined.

“Look at Kabir! He’s got such good marks,” roared Vishal.

“He’s in 3rd grade,” Aakriti said in a choked voice.

“3rd grade!” Shilpa screamed, “But you never got 96% when you were this small!”

“Now go to your room and study! Next time, you have to get at least 80%,” commanded Vishal.

Aakriti took her report card and slipped into her room. She broke into tears.

“What do I do? I always study so hard. But whenever I sit for the exams, an unknown fear grips me and everything evaporates from my mind… especially during Maths and Science tests,” she said to herself.

She looked at her report card again. All she could see was 86 in Art. She always secured the highest marks in this subject. Drawing… sketching… painting… colouring… shading… she excelled in every aspect of Art. She also had a keen interest in clay modelling. Statues, sculptures and artefacts always caught her fancy. But her parents saw no future in this field.

Vishal wanted her to be an architect like himself, while Shilpa wanted her to opt for literature and be a lecturer in a reputed college. No one ever asked Aakriti what she wanted in life.

Her eyes were swollen red.

“Why do they compare me with others when they don’t like to be compared to other parents?” she thought, “They scolded me in front of Kabir… that village boy. They compared me to him. I felt so small!”

She wiped her tears, picked up a notebook and a red bold marker, and started scribbling something in it:

I HATE KABIR.

I HATE KABIR.

                           To be continued