A New Beginning
"Bye man! Take care, will surely miss you. Cannot believe that our partnership has ended", Said Vishal to Tarun. Tarun, Vishal, Abhilash, and Gurinder had studied together from KG to the tenth standard. Also, Tarun and Vishal were the opening batsmen for their school. Now Tarun was leaving to Kerala to stay with his grandparents. He had joined a school there. It would be a long time before they could meet again. Farewells are difficult, more so when you have a decade or more of memories.
"There cannot be a worse friend than you" said the bespectacled Abhilash. Slightly short, with a curly mop of hair, he was the topper of the batch and the resource person for all things related to studies. Vishal and Tarun relied on him to cover the notes while they were busy notching up runs in the inter-school cricket tournaments. Gurinder was a third-generation artist. His family had their art gallery in the city, with a studio that doubled up as the friends' hang out place.
After the party, Tarun walked to his house, deep in thoughts. He was sad to leave all his friends and the city he loved. Every step he took felt as if someone had chained him to a weight and he was being punished for some misdeeds. A sob almost made its way out from his mouth, and Tarun kept walking. Memories, that was buried deep within his heart made their way out as if they had found an outlet. He remembered the day he fell from his cycle and broke his nose. For 3 months he had to wear a contraption on his nose which made it painful for him to wear spectacles. He remembered the day his mother passed away in a car accident, she had promised him that she would make carrot pudding that evening.
Tarun's father was a mid-level executive in a nationalized bank. He had been promoted after a long due, but that was also accompanied by a transfer to a different part of the country. He wanted to stay along with his son, but the new position in the internal audit department meant that he would not be in one city for more than a month and Tarun's education would have been affected.
"Don't worry, Tarun. You will easily make it to the cricket team in the new school also. And you will have granny to dot on you. The only thing I am worried about is how you will manage without your favorite Chole Bhature. You won't get it there." Dad said with a chuckle. They were at the railway station, waiting for the train which was 2 hours late.
Tarun joined the school the week after he reached Kerala. The previous week was amazing. He took a stroll through their rubber plantations, followed by a lengthy swim in the pond. Sometimes he just sat on the bank, looking at the fish, darting here and there. A couple of frogs sat across him with puffed cheeks, as if inviting him for a duel.
Everything seemed to be going well, then came the twist right before he joined his new school. Tarun had scored decent marks in his board exams, but it was a shade lower than the cut off for the science stream. He hoped to get admitted as he had done well in sports. But that was not to be. A last-minute admission with a recommendation from the school management committee derailed his plans. He had two options. Take an admission to the commerce stream and continue in the same school, or get admitted to a different school. It was a case of Hobson's choice since there was no way he was going to get an admission to any school nearby at this last moment. He felt out of breath, as if someone had punched him in his guts. His dreams of doing Aeronautical engineering, designing the next generation of fighter planes, vanished into thin air.
It was clear in his mind. He hated this place-this school that had cheated him. He did not feel like sitting inside the class. As if God sent, at this very moment, the peon came in with a note from the principal. Tarun was being called to the ground for cricket selection. The interschool tournament would start in 3 months. "Mahesh is bowling fast. If I can attack him, I have a better shot of selection" thought Tarun. Mahesh was the school's opening bowler, who had just attended the district under 19 competition. In the face-off between Tarun and Mahesh, neither won. Mahesh almost took the edge on one occasion, but Tarun middled the next three balls. He defended the other two deliveries on the front foot. That evening, the cricket-selection result was put up on the notice board. Tarun was in the 15 member team selected for the school. At least something was going well.
It was more than a month since he joined this new school. Tarun, however, had not made any friends. He rarely talked to his classmates in Commerce stream. He did not feel connected to them. His classmates felt that he was a show-off. He did not bring rice for lunch, had problems with the accent, and whatnot.
In the evening, he sat in his room, with his eyes closed. He thought about how his life had changed. He who was always in the company of his friends, now did not have any friends to talk to. From night-outs, to study groups, to cricket-everything was with friends, now he just had cricket.
"Cricket camp for the students selected to the school team begins on 24th" read the notice on the notice board in front of the staff room, hanging precariously supported by only one pin. It was exactly how his life was hanging. It was just a week away.
"Aah...Aah" screamed Tarun, in agony. As he cycled back to his house, he was hit by a scooter and he fell from his cycle. He was not badly hurt, but his uniform told a different story. His pant was shredded at the knees and his shirt was torn. He also got a few scratches on his face, as he went small distance face down with the impact. He was taken immediately to the hospital by the people who saw this accident. A couple of them held the scooter rider by his collar, and gave a few slaps. Others wanted to hand him over to the police.
A few X-rays and first aid later, the doctors advised him to return home. He was given some tablets that would remind him of his situation, in case the pain did not. He closed his eyes. All his sorrows again seemed to have found an outlet. It was almost as if someone was getting a sadistic pleasure from seeing him in sorrow. Suddenly his mobile beeped. It was a new message. "Hey, new guy! Don't be so sad. You will still play for the team, be confident." He received a message on his mobile from a number that he did not recognize. His brain was trying to process what fresh hell this could be, after all this mess. "Beep Beep", his mobile buzzed again. Another message from the same number. "Btw this is Alisha. Classmate. You have never spoken to me, but I feel we should once you are back."
"There cannot be a worse friend than you" said the bespectacled Abhilash. Slightly short, with a curly mop of hair, he was the topper of the batch and the resource person for all things related to studies. Vishal and Tarun relied on him to cover the notes while they were busy notching up runs in the inter-school cricket tournaments. Gurinder was a third-generation artist. His family had their art gallery in the city, with a studio that doubled up as the friends' hang out place.
After the party, Tarun walked to his house, deep in thoughts. He was sad to leave all his friends and the city he loved. Every step he took felt as if someone had chained him to a weight and he was being punished for some misdeeds. A sob almost made its way out from his mouth, and Tarun kept walking. Memories, that was buried deep within his heart made their way out as if they had found an outlet. He remembered the day he fell from his cycle and broke his nose. For 3 months he had to wear a contraption on his nose which made it painful for him to wear spectacles. He remembered the day his mother passed away in a car accident, she had promised him that she would make carrot pudding that evening.
Tarun's father was a mid-level executive in a nationalized bank. He had been promoted after a long due, but that was also accompanied by a transfer to a different part of the country. He wanted to stay along with his son, but the new position in the internal audit department meant that he would not be in one city for more than a month and Tarun's education would have been affected.
"Don't worry, Tarun. You will easily make it to the cricket team in the new school also. And you will have granny to dot on you. The only thing I am worried about is how you will manage without your favorite Chole Bhature. You won't get it there." Dad said with a chuckle. They were at the railway station, waiting for the train which was 2 hours late.
Tarun joined the school the week after he reached Kerala. The previous week was amazing. He took a stroll through their rubber plantations, followed by a lengthy swim in the pond. Sometimes he just sat on the bank, looking at the fish, darting here and there. A couple of frogs sat across him with puffed cheeks, as if inviting him for a duel.
Everything seemed to be going well, then came the twist right before he joined his new school. Tarun had scored decent marks in his board exams, but it was a shade lower than the cut off for the science stream. He hoped to get admitted as he had done well in sports. But that was not to be. A last-minute admission with a recommendation from the school management committee derailed his plans. He had two options. Take an admission to the commerce stream and continue in the same school, or get admitted to a different school. It was a case of Hobson's choice since there was no way he was going to get an admission to any school nearby at this last moment. He felt out of breath, as if someone had punched him in his guts. His dreams of doing Aeronautical engineering, designing the next generation of fighter planes, vanished into thin air.
It was clear in his mind. He hated this place-this school that had cheated him. He did not feel like sitting inside the class. As if God sent, at this very moment, the peon came in with a note from the principal. Tarun was being called to the ground for cricket selection. The interschool tournament would start in 3 months. "Mahesh is bowling fast. If I can attack him, I have a better shot of selection" thought Tarun. Mahesh was the school's opening bowler, who had just attended the district under 19 competition. In the face-off between Tarun and Mahesh, neither won. Mahesh almost took the edge on one occasion, but Tarun middled the next three balls. He defended the other two deliveries on the front foot. That evening, the cricket-selection result was put up on the notice board. Tarun was in the 15 member team selected for the school. At least something was going well.
It was more than a month since he joined this new school. Tarun, however, had not made any friends. He rarely talked to his classmates in Commerce stream. He did not feel connected to them. His classmates felt that he was a show-off. He did not bring rice for lunch, had problems with the accent, and whatnot.
In the evening, he sat in his room, with his eyes closed. He thought about how his life had changed. He who was always in the company of his friends, now did not have any friends to talk to. From night-outs, to study groups, to cricket-everything was with friends, now he just had cricket.
"Cricket camp for the students selected to the school team begins on 24th" read the notice on the notice board in front of the staff room, hanging precariously supported by only one pin. It was exactly how his life was hanging. It was just a week away.
"Aah...Aah" screamed Tarun, in agony. As he cycled back to his house, he was hit by a scooter and he fell from his cycle. He was not badly hurt, but his uniform told a different story. His pant was shredded at the knees and his shirt was torn. He also got a few scratches on his face, as he went small distance face down with the impact. He was taken immediately to the hospital by the people who saw this accident. A couple of them held the scooter rider by his collar, and gave a few slaps. Others wanted to hand him over to the police.
A few X-rays and first aid later, the doctors advised him to return home. He was given some tablets that would remind him of his situation, in case the pain did not. He closed his eyes. All his sorrows again seemed to have found an outlet. It was almost as if someone was getting a sadistic pleasure from seeing him in sorrow. Suddenly his mobile beeped. It was a new message. "Hey, new guy! Don't be so sad. You will still play for the team, be confident." He received a message on his mobile from a number that he did not recognize. His brain was trying to process what fresh hell this could be, after all this mess. "Beep Beep", his mobile buzzed again. Another message from the same number. "Btw this is Alisha. Classmate. You have never spoken to me, but I feel we should once you are back."
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