Nine
Uncleji’s Tuck Shop was extremely busy that morning. Apparently, toast and boiled eggs that smelt like rotten eggs had been served in the school refectory. One look at the eggs and the girls had made a beeline for Uncleji’s. In contrast, the tuck shop smelt of a strange mixture of omelettes, sausages, bacon, coffee, freshly baked cakes and scones, parathas and pickle. Strange mixture, yes, but appetising enough.
Gurpreet clicked his fingers at Bahadur and thumped his table. ‘What happened to my tea? Are you getting it from Assam?’
‘Two seconds, sahib, just give me a minute,’ Bahadur replied.
Yawning, Gurpreet looked at Mili and Vicky sitting across the table. How did that Vicky always manage to look so alive? Especially in the morning – she looked as refreshing and bubbly as a freshly churned glass of lassi.
‘What are you reading?’ he asked as she laughed again.
‘Shakespeare. A Midsummer Night’s Dream ,’ she replied. ‘This Bottom is so silly,’ she giggled.
‘I think Shakespeare as a playwright is highly overrated,’ said Gurpreet. ‘If you wish to study plays, read Ibsen or Shaw. Their work is much more relevant to today’s society. If you look at the character of Ibsen’s Nora in A Doll’s House , or Eliza Doolittle in Pygmalion —’
‘I’m impressed,’ drawled a familiar voice, clapping his hands.
It was Raven. Standing there with his arms folded, looking down at the three of them. Gurpreet cringed. Damn, he should have known. What was he doing here? Trust him to interrupt just when he was trying to impress Vicky.
‘I agree, sir,’ said Vicky. ‘Gurpreet, I had no idea you knew so much.’
A pleased smile hovered over Gurpreet’s face as he shrugged his shoulders, pretending to be unaffected by the compliment.
‘Why don’t you come to school tomorrow and give a lecture to my girls on plays and playwrights? I’m sure they’re bored of my teaching and would welcome a change,’ said Raven.
‘Yes, sir, that’s a brilliant idea,’ chirped Vicky.
Gurpreet looked at her and wiped his brow. His smile had vanished. He had to get out of this. ‘But the principal?’ he asked lamely.
‘I’ll get permission from her,’ replied Raven. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘Oh, what the devil. This sounds like fun,’ said Vicky.
Raven touched Gurpreet’s shoulder lightly. ‘That’s settled. Tomorrow, ten o’clock sharp. See you then.’ So saying, he walked off, leaving Gurpreet staring after him, fuming and squirming. How he hated that Angrez. Especially after what Mother had told him about Raven’s father.
Gurpreet looked at his watch and hastened his steps. He had spent all night preparing for the lecture and now he was going to spoil it by being late. As he reached the school building, he looked up and found Raven pacing the corridors. He glanced at his watch again. Damn, he was ten minutes late. ‘Morning, sir,’ he grinned at Raven as he followed him into the classroom.
He stumbled as he got up on to the rostrum.
‘Have you been drinking?’ Raven asked under his breath.
‘Oh no, sir,’ replied Gurpreet.
Raven proceeded to introduce him to the class. Then, with an ‘All yours now’, he went and stood at the back of the classroom.
Gurpreet nodded at him, then smiled at the class. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. Pull yourself together, Gurpreet. You can’t teach a bunch of girls and you want to fight for India’s freedom? Stop being a chicken.
He picked up a piece of chalk from the chalk box and broke it as he spoke. ‘Hello, everyone. As Prof. Raven just said, I have come to speak to you about …’ He picked up another chalk as he lectured and broke it.
Then another. And another. But soon he had got over his initial nervousness and was speaking confidently. Why, all the girls were listening to him with rapt attention. Even Vicky. Success.
At the end of the lecture Raven began to clap his hands. The
Uncleji’s Tuck Shop was extremely busy that morning. Apparently, toast and boiled eggs that smelt like rotten eggs had been served in the school refectory. One look at the eggs and the girls had made a beeline for Uncleji’s. In contrast, the tuck shop smelt of a strange mixture of omelettes, sausages, bacon, coffee, freshly baked cakes and scones, parathas and pickle. Strange mixture, yes, but appetising enough.
Gurpreet clicked his fingers at Bahadur and thumped his table. ‘What happened to my tea? Are you getting it from Assam?’
‘Two seconds, sahib, just give me a minute,’ Bahadur replied.
Yawning, Gurpreet looked at Mili and Vicky sitting across the table. How did that Vicky always manage to look so alive? Especially in the morning – she looked as refreshing and bubbly as a freshly churned glass of lassi.
‘What are you reading?’ he asked as she laughed again.
‘Shakespeare. A Midsummer Night’s Dream ,’ she replied. ‘This Bottom is so silly,’ she giggled.
‘I think Shakespeare as a playwright is highly overrated,’ said Gurpreet. ‘If you wish to study plays, read Ibsen or Shaw. Their work is much more relevant to today’s society. If you look at the character of Ibsen’s Nora in A Doll’s House , or Eliza Doolittle in Pygmalion —’
‘I’m impressed,’ drawled a familiar voice, clapping his hands.
It was Raven. Standing there with his arms folded, looking down at the three of them. Gurpreet cringed. Damn, he should have known. What was he doing here? Trust him to interrupt just when he was trying to impress Vicky.
‘I agree, sir,’ said Vicky. ‘Gurpreet, I had no idea you knew so much.’
A pleased smile hovered over Gurpreet’s face as he shrugged his shoulders, pretending to be unaffected by the compliment.
‘Why don’t you come to school tomorrow and give a lecture to my girls on plays and playwrights? I’m sure they’re bored of my teaching and would welcome a change,’ said Raven.
‘Yes, sir, that’s a brilliant idea,’ chirped Vicky.
Gurpreet looked at her and wiped his brow. His smile had vanished. He had to get out of this. ‘But the principal?’ he asked lamely.
‘I’ll get permission from her,’ replied Raven. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘Oh, what the devil. This sounds like fun,’ said Vicky.
Raven touched Gurpreet’s shoulder lightly. ‘That’s settled. Tomorrow, ten o’clock sharp. See you then.’ So saying, he walked off, leaving Gurpreet staring after him, fuming and squirming. How he hated that Angrez. Especially after what Mother had told him about Raven’s father.
Gurpreet looked at his watch and hastened his steps. He had spent all night preparing for the lecture and now he was going to spoil it by being late. As he reached the school building, he looked up and found Raven pacing the corridors. He glanced at his watch again. Damn, he was ten minutes late. ‘Morning, sir,’ he grinned at Raven as he followed him into the classroom.
He stumbled as he got up on to the rostrum.
‘Have you been drinking?’ Raven asked under his breath.
‘Oh no, sir,’ replied Gurpreet.
Raven proceeded to introduce him to the class. Then, with an ‘All yours now’, he went and stood at the back of the classroom.
Gurpreet nodded at him, then smiled at the class. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. Pull yourself together, Gurpreet. You can’t teach a bunch of girls and you want to fight for India’s freedom? Stop being a chicken.
He picked up a piece of chalk from the chalk box and broke it as he spoke. ‘Hello, everyone. As Prof. Raven just said, I have come to speak to you about …’ He picked up another chalk as he lectured and broke it.
Then another. And another. But soon he had got over his initial nervousness and was speaking confidently. Why, all the girls were listening to him with rapt attention. Even Vicky. Success.
At the end of the lecture Raven began to clap his hands. The
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