in me calling him uncle, but someone needed to
remind him.
'Maths Khanna,' the shopkeeper shouted. His assistants pulled out the yellow
and black tome. Now if Resnick and Halliday is scary, M.L. Khanna is the
Exorcist. I haven't seen a thicker book and every page is filled with the hardest
maths problems in the world. It was amusing that a person with a friendly name
like M.L Khanna could do this to the students of our country.
'What is this?' Vidya said and tried to lift the book with her left hand. She
couldn't. She used both hands and finally took it six inches off the ground. 'No,
seriously, what is this? An assault weapon?'
'It covers every topic,' I said and measured the thickness with the fingers of my
right hand, the four fingers fell short.
She held her hand sideways over mine to assist.
'Six, it is six fingers thick,' she said softly.
I pulled my hand out, lest uncle raise his eyebrows again, or worst case join his
hand to ours to check the thickness.
'Don't worry, for the medical entrance you only have to study a few topics,' I
reassured her.
We paid for the books and came out of the shop.
We walked on the Navrangpura main road. My new shop was two hundred
metres away. I had the urge to go see it.
'Now what?' she said.
'Nothing, let's go home,' I said and looked for an auto. 'You are a big bore,
aren't you?' she said. 'Excuse me?' I said.
'Dairy Den is round the corner. I'm hungry,' she said.
'I am starving. Seriously, I am famished.' She kept a hand on her stomach. She
wore three rings, each with different designs and tiny, multi-coloured stones.
I took the least visible seat in Dairy Den. Sure, no one from our gossip-loving
pol came to this hip teen joint, but one could never be too careful. If a supplier
saw me at Dairy Den, I would be like any other trendy young boy in Ahmedabad.
I would never get a good price for cricket balls.
I felt hungry too. But I couldn't match the drama-queen in histrionics. She
ordered a Den's special pizza, which had every topping available in Dairy Den's
kitchen. All dishes were vegetarian, as preferred by Ambavadis.
'These books look really advanced,' she said, pointing to the plastic bag.
'They are MSc books,' I said.
She raised her eyebrows. 'Can someone explain to me why seventeen-year-olds
are made to read MSc books in this country?'
I shrugged. I had no answers for lazy students.
The pizza arrived. We kept quiet and started eating it. I looked at her. She tied
her hair, so that it would not fall on the pizza and touch the cheese. She kept her
dupatta away from the table and on the chair. The great thing about girls is that
even during pauses in the conversation you can look at them and not get bored.
She looked sideways as she became conscious of two boys on a faraway table
staring at her. It wasn't surprising, considering she was the best looking girl in
Dairy Den by a huge margin. Why are there so few pretty girls? Why hadn't
evolution figured it out that men liked pretty women and turned them all out that
way?
She checked her phone for any new SMSs. She didn't need to as her phone
beeped louder than a fire alarm everytime there was one. She pulled back her
sleeve and lifted a slice of pizza. She used her fingers to lift the strands of cheese
that had fallen out and placed them back on the slice. Finally she took a bite.
'So, what's up?' she broke the silence. 'Are we allowed to talk about anything
apart from science subjects?'
'Of course,' I said. I glared at the boys at the other table. They didn't notice me.
'We are not that far apart in age. We could be friends, you know,' she said.
'Well,' I said, 'tough, isn't it?'
'Tough? Give me one reason why?'
'I will give you four - (1) I am your teacher (2) you are my best friend's sister (3)
you are younger than me, and (4) you are a girl.'
I felt stupid stating my reasons in bullet points. There is a reason why nerds
can't impress girls. They don't know how to
remind him.
'Maths Khanna,' the shopkeeper shouted. His assistants pulled out the yellow
and black tome. Now if Resnick and Halliday is scary, M.L. Khanna is the
Exorcist. I haven't seen a thicker book and every page is filled with the hardest
maths problems in the world. It was amusing that a person with a friendly name
like M.L Khanna could do this to the students of our country.
'What is this?' Vidya said and tried to lift the book with her left hand. She
couldn't. She used both hands and finally took it six inches off the ground. 'No,
seriously, what is this? An assault weapon?'
'It covers every topic,' I said and measured the thickness with the fingers of my
right hand, the four fingers fell short.
She held her hand sideways over mine to assist.
'Six, it is six fingers thick,' she said softly.
I pulled my hand out, lest uncle raise his eyebrows again, or worst case join his
hand to ours to check the thickness.
'Don't worry, for the medical entrance you only have to study a few topics,' I
reassured her.
We paid for the books and came out of the shop.
We walked on the Navrangpura main road. My new shop was two hundred
metres away. I had the urge to go see it.
'Now what?' she said.
'Nothing, let's go home,' I said and looked for an auto. 'You are a big bore,
aren't you?' she said. 'Excuse me?' I said.
'Dairy Den is round the corner. I'm hungry,' she said.
'I am starving. Seriously, I am famished.' She kept a hand on her stomach. She
wore three rings, each with different designs and tiny, multi-coloured stones.
I took the least visible seat in Dairy Den. Sure, no one from our gossip-loving
pol came to this hip teen joint, but one could never be too careful. If a supplier
saw me at Dairy Den, I would be like any other trendy young boy in Ahmedabad.
I would never get a good price for cricket balls.
I felt hungry too. But I couldn't match the drama-queen in histrionics. She
ordered a Den's special pizza, which had every topping available in Dairy Den's
kitchen. All dishes were vegetarian, as preferred by Ambavadis.
'These books look really advanced,' she said, pointing to the plastic bag.
'They are MSc books,' I said.
She raised her eyebrows. 'Can someone explain to me why seventeen-year-olds
are made to read MSc books in this country?'
I shrugged. I had no answers for lazy students.
The pizza arrived. We kept quiet and started eating it. I looked at her. She tied
her hair, so that it would not fall on the pizza and touch the cheese. She kept her
dupatta away from the table and on the chair. The great thing about girls is that
even during pauses in the conversation you can look at them and not get bored.
She looked sideways as she became conscious of two boys on a faraway table
staring at her. It wasn't surprising, considering she was the best looking girl in
Dairy Den by a huge margin. Why are there so few pretty girls? Why hadn't
evolution figured it out that men liked pretty women and turned them all out that
way?
She checked her phone for any new SMSs. She didn't need to as her phone
beeped louder than a fire alarm everytime there was one. She pulled back her
sleeve and lifted a slice of pizza. She used her fingers to lift the strands of cheese
that had fallen out and placed them back on the slice. Finally she took a bite.
'So, what's up?' she broke the silence. 'Are we allowed to talk about anything
apart from science subjects?'
'Of course,' I said. I glared at the boys at the other table. They didn't notice me.
'We are not that far apart in age. We could be friends, you know,' she said.
'Well,' I said, 'tough, isn't it?'
'Tough? Give me one reason why?'
'I will give you four - (1) I am your teacher (2) you are my best friend's sister (3)
you are younger than me, and (4) you are a girl.'
I felt stupid stating my reasons in bullet points. There is a reason why nerds
can't impress girls. They don't know how to
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