RECAP

The last period was the sports period, in which Kabir’s class is taken to the school playground for playing cricket and badminton. No one wants Kabir to be in his team. As such, Kabir feels left out. He goes back home and finds his mother in labour. Shilpa comes back home early to take her to the hospital. Kabir, however, is worried thinking that his mother is going to die. Sujata gives birth to a daughter in the evening.

 

CHAPTER 7

It had been just two days since Sujata came home with the child. She was surrounded by all the inmates of the house. Shilpa, through with her evening shower, came straight to Sujata’s room and started playing with the little angel. Aakriti and Kabir were already there.

“Hi, angel! Hello… see, I’m your aunty… your badi maasi,” she pampered her, “Hey Sujata! Have you decided any name for her?”

“Not yet, di!” she smiled.

“Oh well, I’ve thought of a name,” said Aakriti, “She’s my sister. So her name should be Prakriti. Or maybe just Kriti. Aakriti-Prakriti, Aakriti-Kriti… both sound good. What do you say, aunty?”

“Kriti is a nice name. Prakriti sounds very similar to Aakriti. In any case, I like shorter names,” Sujata replied.

“Oh yes! Kriti is final then,” Shilpa joined.

“Okay, Kriti! Are you happy with your name?” Aakriti said to the little girl.

Everyone laughed.

“Mamma! I too thought of a name. Komal…” Kabir intervened.

“Komal?” Aakriti gave her usual disgusted look, “Such a stupid name!”

“Yes, beta! Komal is quite an old name,” Sujata said.

“Mamma, Komal was the name of my favourite Chak De girl. Remember Komal Chautala from Haryana? I liked her so much. So I thought my little sister should be named Komal.”

“Please aunty! Not Komal…” Aakriti took the little girl in her arms, “Hello Kriti! See, even she seems to like this name.”

Kabir was silent. After a few moments, he said, “Di! Let me hold her for some time.”

“Oh no, beta!” said Shilpa, “You’re too small. You won’t be able to carry her. What if you drop her? She’ll be hurt, no?”

Suddenly, the door bell rang.

“Must be Vishal,” Shilpa got up to open the door.

“Surprise… surprise…” Vishal entered the house carrying a lot many toys.

“See, I’ve brought toys for the princess,” he said entering Sujata’s room.

“Call her Kriti,” said Shilpa, “We’ve decided her name.”

Sujata laughed and said, “But why so many toys, jijaji? She’s very small. She can’t play with them.”

“Oh! She’ll soon grow up. Haven’t you heard girls grow up faster?” Vishal took Kriti from Aakriti’s arms, “Time will just fly away. And, soon you’ll be worrying about her marriage.”

“Vishal! You’re going too far now. In any case, before Kriti, we’ll have to worry about Aakriti’s marriage,” laughed Shilpa.

“Look, who’s going far now?” Sujata smiled.

Once again, the house reverberated with sounds of laughter. Kabir, however, least interested in their talk, was just looking at the toys admiring them silently.

“Nice toys,” he said caressing them.

“Hmm… But child, it would be better if you play with your own toys and spare hers. I know you’re in a habit of putting everything in your mouth. She would get your germs, no? You must have read about germs in your school,” Sujata said.

Kabir stepped aside with her eyes fixed on everyone. They all were playing happily with Kriti. But, was he happy? Vishal uncle had said that mamma would get him a living toy. Did he really get one? He could not even hold his ‘toy’ in his arms. Nor was he allowed to keep her name of his own choice. They all were making merry, with their faces radiant with mirth. No one saw the distress on his face. He felt so left out… so alone….

He took his schoolbag and went into the drawing room. He opened his school diary to check if any homework was left. A composition in English was undone. He had to write a short paragraph on ‘My Best Friend’.

‘My Best Friend’… he thought for a while. He knew not what to write and where to begin. Still, the composition had to be written, otherwise ma’am would punish him the next day.

He picked up his pencil and began to write.

“I have many friends…” his hands did shiver a little writing such a white lie on paper.

“But my best friend is…” he wondered whose name to write.

Then, he decided to imagine his best friend and write about him.

He wrote, “But my best friend is Mark.”

“English name!” he smiled inwardly.

“He has curly hair…. He has blue eyes….” he wrote more about him.

While his hands were scribbling in the notebook, his mind was engrossed in painting a vivid image of his ‘best friend’.

“He loves me very much…. He talks a lot…. He plays cricket with me…. We go to the park…. He is very naughty…. We study together…. He is a good student…. He stands first in the class….” he wrote further.

“I wish I really had such a wonderful friend,” he said to himself, still thinking about him.

He wrote a few more lines, “He likes painting…. He wants to be a pilot….”

“Hey friend!” suddenly a voice broke his reverie.

A kid of his own age was sitting in front of him.

“Who are you? And, where have you come from?” Kabir asked him.

“Arre, you didn’t recognise me? I’m your friend… Mark,” he replied.

“Mark?” Kabir looked at him quizzically.

“Yes! What are you doing?”

“Writing a paragraph on ‘My Best Friend’.”

“Oh, you mean, on me. That’s great! Show it to me,” he peeped into his notebook and started reading the composition.

“Blue eyes?” he asked, “But my eyes are black. Correct this sentence.”

Kabir looked at him. He really had black eyes. He erased ‘blue’ and wrote ‘black’ in its place.

“That’s better,” Mark smiled and started reading further.

“Hmm… so I’m naughty, huh?” he smiled, “And what have you written here? I stand first in the class. But it’s you who topped this time, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes! Then what do I do with this line?” queried Kabir.

“Just erase it. It’s not required,” he replied as he once again resumed his reading.

Kabir still could not believe his eyes. He asked, “Are you really Mark? My best friend?”

Mark looked at him and said, “Why? You have any doubt? See, I’ve curly hair, I talk a lot, I play cricket, and I also want to be a pilot.”

Kabir smiled back at him. He was now sure of his existence.

“Beta Kabir,” they heard Shilpa’s voice, “Come, dinner is ready.”

“Oh! Shilpa aunty calling you,” said Mark, “Now have your dinner and go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright, friend!” Kabir chuckled and departed for dinner.

                       To be continued.....