Shala by Milind Bokil Page A

stop. But I was like a man possessed! I imagined I was Lokmanya Tilak or Bhagat Singh. I imagined I was being taken to the gallows, my hands were being nailed to the wall, but I was unperturbed. I was standing tall and proud. I challenged them to continue hitting me. Let the blows fall! I am ready to take them. The reddish curtain blurred my vision, but I could see Shirodkar through it. She continued to stare at me while I stood like an undefeated hero.
    Finally, tired of her own assault, ma’am stopped.
    ‘Go and sit at your place,’ she said, throwing the ruler on to the table.
    I went back without uttering a word. Sensation returned to the palms. They were red and swollen. My fingers ached miserably. I put my palms upwards on my thighs and placed my head on the bench. No one bothered to disturb me through the rest of the period.
    The bell, mercifully, announced the mid-break.
    The boys gathered around me even before ma’am had left the classroom.
    ‘Ichibhana, this Bendre…!’ Surya started, fumbling for the right words. ‘We need to throw her out of school.’
    ‘Chaila! Look at the way his palms have swollen up,’ Teredesai observed. ‘Must be aching like crazy, isn’t it?’
    ‘I salute you, Joshi,’ Bibikar said. ‘I could not have dared.’
    ‘You are the bloody sissy-type first-benchers!’ Surya erupted. ‘And that ruler of yours! I’ve told you a thousand times not to get that thick ruler to school. If I see that again, I’ll break it, bhenchod!’
    ‘I won’t get it again, I promise.’
    ‘We ought to go and complain to the Principal,’ Ghasu Gokhale suggested. ‘Shall we?’
    ‘What is the point in complaining?’ Phawdya said. ‘They are all the same. Is this a school or some kind of jail?’
    I realized the girls were also looking at me. They were watching me from a respectable distance—the birdies, Mirikar, Sukdi, Bakre, Sarawate, and Deodhar; Shirodkar too.
    ‘Look at the way she has battered him, poor soul!’ one of them said.
    ‘I swear! She has become a terror these days.’
    ‘No one can afford to say anything in her period.’
    The boys held my palms and inspected them. They felt as if they were on fire.
    ‘Joshi, don’t just sit here,’ Chitre said. ‘Come, let us go down. We need to put your hands under cold running water. You may feel better.’
    We stood up and went out to the taps. I cringed when the cold water fell on the palms, but after some time I felt a little better.
    ‘Do you want to drink some water?’ Chitre asked.
    ‘Yes, but how do I drink?’ I asked. ‘I cannot do anything with these hands.’
    He ran and got a tumbler from Balu, the watchman and held it to my lips.
    ‘Phawdya, go and get some ice-candy,’ Surya said. ‘Here, take this money and get four.’
    ‘You will feel better eating that,’ he said, looking at me.
    ‘We have a special oil at home,’ Santya suggested. ‘Shall I get it? You smear it on the area where it hurts. It gives a lot of relief.’
    ‘Then why don’t you go and get it? Don’t sit here and ask!’ Surya said.
    Santya rushed home. Chitre got another tumbler full of water. Phawdya got the ice-candy. Chitre helped me suck on it. I had held back my tears in the classroom, but now I could feel them brimming over.
    Santya got the oil before the break ended. The oil was blackish-red with a pungent odour. He gently rubbed it onto my palms.
    ‘It is an ancient remedy,’ he whispered. ‘Ekdum bestest!’
    ‘How come you have it at home?’ Phawdya asked.
    ‘My dad got it,’ he said, sharing a secret. ‘It comes in handy whenever he gets beaten up by the police.’
    The oil smelt horrible, but I felt a little better. The next period was Drawing. I sat at the back doing nothing. Rajguru sir asked me the reason and I was forced to show him my palms.
    ‘Bendre ma’am hit him, sir,’ Teredesai said.
    Sir inspected my palms but kept quiet.
    The next class was Manjrekar sir’s. He asked us to draw a diagram. I tried