‘You have always been a little slow, Dada.’
‘Wow. Maa–Baba never really taught you modesty, did they?’ he said and ruffled my hair which was irritating because I’m not a three-year-old any more.
In the evening there was a party at home to celebrate my No.1 position in my school. SO MUCH FUN. LIKE SO MUCH FUN. I’m being sarcastic, of course. Sounds much better when you say it out loud rather than write and read it.
No one cared to mention to the attendees of the Gangulys’ Son’s Board Exam Result Celebration Party that I shared the top spot with Brahmi Sharma, the breaker and breakee of hearts. Countless Bengali families including the Bhattacharyas were home eating Maa’s mutton chops. Despite their daughter Arundhati’s rather dismal performance, it was hard to spot the disappointment on their faces.
‘She got a 100 in English!’ squealed Bhattacharya Aunty.
‘So nice,’ said Maa.
The women and the men skilfully concealed their envy and congratulated me and showered love on me like I was their own son. Richa Mittal on the other hand scored a 43 per cent and there was considerable gloom in her house. I know because they complained of the noise we were making and they made Richa make that call.
‘Hello?’
‘Richa?’
‘Can you please ask your guests to stop making noise? Or my father will complain to the residents’ welfare association next week. We don’t say anything doesn’t mean we will keep bearing this,’ she said in a voice that seemed to have churned from an ocean of limitless sadness. This was also the longest string of words I had heard from her. Her parents would have made her mug up the sentence I think.
‘Okay, I will tell Baba.’
‘Congratulations, Raghu.’
‘You too.’
I don’t know why I said that.
‘Is Arundhati there too? I know she is. She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? She is. She is very beautiful. And intelligent. She lives right across you and gets to go to the temple with you. Very nice.’
‘Yes, she has come with her parents,’ I said.
She disconnected the call.
After the dinner, the men and the women were inside drinking and talking about politics and sarees and marriages; and the younger ones were sent outside to the balcony and busied themselves with Mina. Mina revelled in the attention and let all of them be her masters and licked them equally.
‘You don’t seem to be happy? What did you expect? A 95?’ asked Arundhati.
‘No. 92 per cent. Just half a per cent more than Brahmi. I could have got it. I still don’t see how I could only score 92 in mathematics.’
‘You both scored the same? Like you are soulmates! That’s so sweet.’
‘There’s nothing sweet about that!’
‘Of course it is. And why are you so grumpy? Beat her in the next boards. Big deal. No one will ask us about these marks when we grow up anyway.’
‘Please don’t talk to me right now.’
‘Fine, grumpy head.’
She sat next to me and stayed quiet.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘It’s okay.’
‘Tell me something, Arundhati. Like you only scored 62, don’t you feel you’re letting down your parents?’
‘Why would I? They were expecting lesser. If anything, they are impressed!’
