Half Girlfriend Read online

  ‘Sit up,’ she said. She sat cross-legged on the charpoy. I faced her, but I moved far enough so she wouldn’t feel I could strike again.

  She smiled at me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It was nice,’ she said.

  ‘What was?’

  ‘What we just did.’

  ‘We sat up cross-legged. That was nice?’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said and laughed. ‘It was wonderful how we sat up. Wow. You sit pretty well.’

  ‘We have sat before.’

  ‘This was a different league. Guess maturity makes a man better,’ she said, ‘at. . .sitting.’

  We laughed. I wanted to touch her, if only to touch my fingertips to hers, but didn’t. I couldn’t believe we had kissed again. We chatted about old classmates of ours. We had lost touch with most of them, but tried to update each other with our limited information.

  Twenty minutes later, she coughed. Once, twice and then five more times.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah, it is a little cold,’ she said and went into a coughing fit.

  ‘I’ll get water.’

  I ran downstairs to my room. I came back with a bottle of water. She lay down on the charpoy, right hand on her forehead.

  ‘You’re not well, Riya?’ I said.

  She coughed again, sat up and had some water.

  I touched her forehead.

  ‘You don’t have fever,’ I said.

  ‘I’m exhausted, I guess.’

  ‘Did I stress you out?’ I said. I felt guilty about kissing her.

  ‘No. I should just go rest.’

  She had a coughing fit again, this time more violent.

  I helped her stand up and escorted her to the guestroom.

  ‘Will you be okay? You want someone here?’ I said.

  She smiled.

  ‘Nice try, sir. But I will be just fine,’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t mean that. I could wake up Ma.’

  ‘No, no, please. I need sleep, that’s all. We are going to the school tomorrow, right?’

  ‘If you’re feeling better.’

  ‘I’ll be okay. Goodnight, Madhav,’ she said.

  ‘Goodnight, Riya,’ I said, not wanting to leave.

  ‘Thanks for taking care of me,’ she said, her voice sleepy.

  She shut the door. I came back to my room. As I lay in my bed, I touched my lips. I thought about our magnificent lip-lock under the stars.

  ‘I love you, Riya Somani,’ I whispered before I drifted off to sleep.

  29

  ‘So this is the famous Dumraon Royal School,’ Riya said, her eyes widening at the sight of hundreds of kids buzzing around like bees.

  ‘Nothing royal about it,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I hear a prince runs it,’ she said.

  She smiled at me. I gave her an all-knowing, what-happened-last-night look. Of course, not much had happened. But a kiss is a kiss is a kiss.

  ‘We decided never to talk about it,’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘Tell your eyes to be quiet then. They talk too much.’

  I laughed. ‘How’s your cough?’

  ‘Better,’ she said.

  We reached school at nine, two hours after Ma. Riya had slept in. Since she did not know the way, I had to wait for her. She had donned a skirt and top first, but I had asked her to change into a salwar-kameez instead. Not that the kids would care but the principal, or Rani Sahiba, would. She had to approve of the dress code. So Riya switched to a plain white chikan salwar-kameez.

  We entered the staffroom.

  ‘You finally made it. Welcome,’ my mother said. I ignored her sarcasm. Riya and I greeted her, but Ma only nodded, without looking up from her notebooks.

  I introduced Riya to the staff.

  Tarachand ji duly rang the bell. My mother stood up.

  ‘Where are you going, Ma? It is my period.’

  ‘Are you working today?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Good, because I have a hundred books to correct.’

  She sat down again.

  ‘Is it okay if Riya waits here?’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I could walk around,’ Riya said.

  ‘It’s fine,’ my mother said.

  ‘Or I could help with the books?’ Riya said.

  My mother looked up and lowered her reading glasses.

  ‘Help?’

  ‘I can correct some notebooks. Should I take a pile?’

  In a slow movement, Ma pushed a pile towards her.

  I smiled. Rani Sahiba’s heart could melt. I imagined the three of us at school every day, after it had received the Gates grant. If you are imagining it, might as well dream of the perfect scenario, so I thought of Riya, my mother and me, laughing and correcting notebooks. I thought of Riya and me teaching the school kids basketball.

  ‘Madhav?’ my mother interrupted my daydream.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Class?’

  ‘I was just leaving,’ I said.

  ‘Who is that didi?’ a little girl in class III asked me.

  I taught classes III, IV and V simultaneously. Since we didn’t have enough teachers or classrooms, we had come up with a new system. I divided the blackboard into three parts.

  Each class had a third of the blackboard. I would teach a concept to one class and give them a problem. While they solved it, I moved on to the next class. It wasn’t the best way to teach, but the kids adapted to it.

  ‘She’s my classmate from Delhi. Same as you have classmates here,’ I said.

  ‘She’s so pretty,’ another class III girl called Shabnam said. ‘Are all Delhi girls so pretty?’

  I smiled.

  ‘Just like all Dumraon girls are pretty.’

  ‘Are all Delhi girls so tall?’ Shabnam said.

  ‘No. Only those who can write the nine-times table.’ The girls giggled and got on with their classwork.

  I moved to class IV and then to class V. Forty minutes into the class, I sat down for a break. I had finally managed to keep all three classes busy with their respective work.

  ‘Madhav sir,’ a ponytailed girl next to Shabnam said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Bring your friend to class.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘No. This is study time.’

  A couple of other girls followed and started the ‘please’ routine. Soon, the whole class chanted ‘please, please, please’ to me. I had taught them about manners just the previous week. Now they were using them against me.

  ‘Fine, I will get her,’ I said, ‘provided you stay absolutely quiet and work.’

  Everyone nodded and placed their fingers on their lips. I left the classroom. The class burst into noise as soon as I stepped out.

  My mother and Riya sat in silence, each busy with their stack of notebooks.

  ‘Riya, the students want to meet you.’

  ‘Me? Why?’ Riya looked up, surprised.

  ‘Just curious, I guess.’

  Riya looked at my mother. Ma didn’t react. I pulled Riya’s arm.

  ‘Come, no,’ I said.

  Riya and I stepped out of the staffroom.

  ‘How is it going with Ma?’ I said.

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘She is sweet, no? Comes across as strict, but is a big softie.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this, Madhav?’ Riya said.

  ‘Just.’

  We reached the class. The students broke into applause.

  ‘Hi, I am Riya,’ she said. She knelt down to be on their level.

  ‘You are so pretty,’ Shabnam said shyly.

  Riya tweaked Shabnam’s nose. ‘So are you,’ she said.

  Shabnam blushed.

  Riya spoke to the girl next to Shabnam. ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’

  The girl buried her face in Shabnam’s lap.

  Riya laughed. She repeated the question to an